Missing the little things adds up

I need my life to return to normal, if that’s possible.

I need to read a story about a baseball game in the morning paper.

I need to scan the boxscores to see how Junior and A-Rod did.

I need to look at the standings to see how the National League race is shaping up.

I need to think about who I would like to see the Mariners meet in the playoffs.

I need to get in the car, turn on the radio to the Dan Patrick show and take a leisurely drive to the ballpark.

I need to drive down First Avenue and see Safeco Field looming in the distance.

I need to see fans standing outside the ballpark, eager to watch baseball after the trauma of the last week.

I need to get to the ballpark early so I can see it come to life.

I need to walk the concourses, watching the concession stands open.

I need to go out below the left-field stands to see if the printing on the personalized bricks is still legible.

I need to walk around the ballpark and absorb all the food smells.

I need to see the icy sweat on bottles of beer.

I need to walk up to the pressbox, look out on the field and marvel at that carefully manicured lawn.

I need to crowd onto an elevator with 20 Japanese writers and photographers.

I need to go down on the field and listen to the magic sounds of bats meeting balls during batting practice.

I need to watch pitchers shag lazily after fly balls in the outfield.

I need to watch Ichiro do all of those impossible stretches.

I need to see Jay Buhner’s shiny head.

I need to look at the oak-like forearms of Edgar Martinez.

I need to wonder how he still gets down the line despite the pain he must feel in his legs.

I need to ask myself who color coordinates Dave Niehaus’ clothes.

I need to hear Bret Boone growl with a wink and a scowl, “Get outta my way.”

I need to see Mark McLemore sitting stoically in front of his locker.

I need to see Lou Piniella working crossword puzzles with his glasses perched on the end of his nose.

I need to hear Piniella remark for the 1,000th time, “These young men play hard every night.”

I need to hear Boone mutter, “This team prepares better than any team I’ve ever played for.”

I need to eat a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza. And one of those chewy cowpie chocolate chip cookies.

I need to write the starting lineups in my scorebook.

I need to walk around the pressbox and say “hi” to some writers I know.

I need to just sit and take in the beauty of the ballpark.

I need to see the umpires meet at homeplate with the managers.

I need to hear the national anthem sung – not by a guest soloist, but by 45,000 fans – like it’s never been sung before.

I need to hear the sound of silence to honor those who died last week.

I need to see the Mariners throw the ball around the infield.

I need to see the Angels’ leadoff hitter dig in.

I need to hear the home plate umpire yell, “Play ball.”

I need to see Freddy Garcia throw a first-pitch strike.

I need to hear the crowd cheer.

I need to hear Rick Rizzs gee-whiz “That’s the way to start out a game.” And Ron Fairly to reply, “Indeed, that’s the way to start out a game.”

I need to know Niehaus is in the broadcast booth.

I need to see Ichiro come to bat.

I need to see him chop one off the plate for an infield hit.

I need to see him steal second and go to third on a McLemore grounder.

I need to see Martinez hit a line drive into the left-field corner and go chugging into second.

I need to see John Olerud rip one into the gap in right-center.

I need to see Boone go 0-for-2, then line a pitch into the right-field seats.

I need to hear Niehaus scream, “It will fly away.”

I need to see the place go nuts.

I need to look up on the scoreboard and see that Oakland got beat.

I need to see Garcia pitch a 2-hitter.

I need to see the Mariners win and clinch the AL West.

I need to see a quiet, respectful celebration, if that’s what they’ve decided to have.

I need to see this decent bunch of guys enjoy what they have worked so hard to achieve.

I need to hear them say “but we haven’t won anything yet.”

I need to see Piniella shed a tear or two.

I need to see Jay Buhner savor the moment.

All of this may not return my life completely to normal, but it’ll help.

It definitely will help.