Your Signature Call

Aaron Goldsmith side-steps you in the hallway. He’s almost bouncing, as he quickly moves away from you and down the corridor. He looks back to you and half-shouts “thanks again for doing this, boss! Be back in a minute.”

Your hands *were* clammy, a few seconds ago. Now they’re flat-out slippery, and shaking. You try and fail to calm yourself with a deep breath. “30 SECONDS.” A disembodied voice shouts from inside the booth. You can hear the hum of the crowd beyond that doorway. How is this happening? This is absurd, you think to yourself as you inch toward the source of your dread and adrenaline.

How “this” happened, is that Aaron Goldsmith’s late night Taco Bell run has begun to rise up from the murky depths within him like a recently-named Seattle hockey franchise. Rick was off today, and Gary Hill was nowhere to be found. Aaron was left with no options and little time, and you made the mistake of choosing to explore T-Mobile Park. The announcer with the good hair saw you, and now you’re stuck. But also, you’re blessed. This is the only way you’ll ever have this opportunity. He was insane to ask you this, and he might get in trouble later. But he did ask you. And you cannot let him down. “Just keep it simple,” he had told you. “It’ll be like one at bat, at most. Don’t overthink it, you’ll be fine. Just describe the action.”

That hurried advice feels like a lifetime ago as you step into the booth, smacked by the afternoon sunlight. There it is. An empty chair, beckoning you to your doom, or your glory. You sit down, mildly surprised at the production team’s lack of surprise at your presence. Aaron gave them a heads up, of course. You stare back at them a little too long, and receive several annoyed nods towards the field of play.

The vast expanse of the field is taunting you — a predator batting around its prey. It’ll be over soon. You clear your throat feebly, and lean into the microphone. “W-welcome back to Mariners baseball. On 710 ESPN. It’s the…the bottom of the fourth inning here.” Every cell in your body wants to abort this mission, but you gave Aaron your word. Don’t mess this up. Keep it simple.

And then it happens. A hanging slider left over the plate. THWACK. This is a no-doubter. Your heart is racing. No. NO. Don’t do it. He said keep it simple do NOT do this. “This,” of course, is the home run call that you have made up, all on your own, in preparation for this moment that would never come. But now the moment is here. And you MUST do it. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t. Time to live mas. You inhale deeply as the ball rockets towards the left field bleachers and shout —

****

Well, Sailor? What is it? What did you shout to all of Mariners fandom as that ball sailed over the fence? That’s right, I’m asking you for YOUR best home run call. I believe there is some untapped greatness out there in our ranks. So submit it to me, won’t you? And we’ll post them. You can record yourself delivering that glorious call over the video of an existing home run, if you’re tech-savvy. Or you can just describe it to me. As a community, we will embrace the ones we like the most, and carry them forward in immortality. The only rules are:

1. It must be an original, by you. If we found out you ripped someone else off, you’re walking the plank.

2. Please, keep them as appropriate as possible. Remember that these would be going out on the broadcast from the team’s flagship station.

3. The weirder, catchier, more memorable the better. There’s a lot of creativity out there. I know you can do it.

4. Let’s not spoil the fun until we’re ready to share all of them, or risk people riffing off of others’ content. Send your submissions in a private message to Trident Deck on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or email.

Let’s see what you got.

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