Mariners emerge victorious from eight hour fever dream

I sit down to watch the Mariners game at 11:45 AM, five minutes late. As always seems to be the case, I miss a vintage Julio Rodríguez play: a grounder to short that prompts a rushed and errant throw from Cleveland shortstop Amed Rosario, allowing Julio to take second base. Not one minute after I settle in, Ty France ropes a double down the third base line to score Julio.

The late morning sun casts its rays through my window, cheering my apartment. I’ve got to savor this, I think to myself. Later tonight, as the sun drops below the horizon and plunges me into darkness, and I lament the fact that I haven’t yet purchased a floor lamp, I will be praying for respite, for release from the prison…