God, I love this time of year. Spring has sprung, my allergies will kick in any day now and your Seattle Mariners have taken the field. I know, I know, the long baseball season has just begun, but as John Fogerty once crooned: “Well beat the drum and hold the phone the sun came out today. We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field.”

Like spring, and new grass on the field, hope is renewed again. Trees and flowers bloom, my nose starts running and our Mariners give us hope that this is their year. We wait in the rain for six months, buoyed by the fact that the Seahawks are Super Bowl champions, and that if we could only transfer some of that 12th man mojo, our boys at Safeco Field could make the playoffs and then, well….

Who am I kidding? If the M’s make the playoffs this town would go crazy all over again. And making the playoffs would be good enough. We loved it two years ago when the Seahawks made it, but were denied in the playoffs one game short of the NFC Championship. But one year later, they stayed patient and hungry, and went out and did the unbelievable, won a championship.

And that’s all us Mariner fans could hope for this year — a playoff spot.

So let’s all gather round and join hands. Let’s find some leftover razor stubble from Lou Pinella. Let’s mix in some used chewing tobacco from Jay Buhner, find some pine tar from Edgar Martinez’s bat and burn it all in an old athletic supporter from Ken Griffey Jr.

After the smell dies down lets all chant together: “Remember 95! Remember 95! Remember 95!” Chant it over and over until the voice of the late great Dave Niehaus rises up and yells, “Get out the rye bread and mustard Grandma, it’s grand salami time!”

Let’s get out and give these boys some “10th Man” Mojo.

They sure could use it.