2007 - Seattle - rebuilding team, coming off a 74-84 campaign, 13th in runs scored, 9th in runs allowed. The team dumps its best young pitcher, picks up some journeyman hurlers, (Batista, Weaver, HoRam), and a couple of journeyman bats (Guillen, Vidro). Expectations are low. Complaints about management choices are high. It was supposed to be ANOTHER rebuilding year, and one where they were almost universally picked for last in the division - as most pre-season looks at the team assumed they had gotten worse.

They begin 5-3, then lose 6 in a row, (5-9), confirming the suspicions of a miserable season to come. But, then they win 7 of 8, improving to 12-10. How can a team that loses 6 in a row, suddenly win 7 of 8? Did they acquire someone new? Did they got out and sign a new FA pitcher? No. None of those things happened. They simply played better.

During the losing streak, getting swept by both the Twinkies and Angels, they scored 1,2,4,4,5,6 runs (not in that order), and allowed (4,5,5,6,7,11 runs). Three of the losses were by one run (4-5, 5-6, 6-7). Then, against Texas, Oakland, KC and the ChiSox, they scored: (2,3,3,4,5,5,5,7) and allowed (0,1,2,2,2,4,4,8). They won a pair of 1-run games, (3-2 and 5-4).

The above only covers about a month of play. Yet, we see the SAME team play lousy and play great. What most fans don't quite understand is that this is not an aberration. This is how *ALL* pennant races go. Competition changes every 3 or 4 days. Players slump. Players streak. Players get hurt. Call-ups shine. Call-ups fail. The whole is sometimes greater than the sum of the parts - sometimes less. But, the number of parts is vast. It's not just the 25 on the roster. It's also the manager, the coaches, the competition on a given day, the trainers, the hotel, the travel secretary, the agents, the families, the friends, the Gameboys, the girlfriends, the escorts, the dead uncle, the newborn son, the fans in the stand, the reporters hounding them in the locker room, and the radio stations playing pranks. The sum total of what happens on a given day is influenced by thousands of little things that the fan watching the game can and will never know about.

Yet, we all mostly perceive sports as a simple case of mano-a-mano, where the superior athletes win, (mostly). Of course, you need talent to compete. The cast of "Survivor" is going to lose 100% of games they might play against the worst MLB team. I can beat many of my friends at tennis, (most of my friends stink at tennis). I wouldn't likely win a point against Sampras, who isn't even on the tour at this point. The reality that VASTLY superior talent will always win doesn't translate well when the talent differential is very, very, very small.

As fans, we perceive a player like Pujols with his 1000+ OPS figures to be VASTLY superior to someone like Endy Chavez, struggling to put up a 700. The difference SEEMS really big, 700 to 1000. But, even with players THIS disparate, one can find similarities. The rate at which each strikes out is surprisingly similar. In 2004, Endy's last full season -- 547 ABs, 40-Ks. In 2006, Pujols had 535 ABs, 50 Ks. It's as difficult to strike out Endy Chavez as it is to strike out Albert Pujols.

This doesn't mean that Endy is as good as Pujols, whiffing is just one aspect of hitting prowess. But, give me 500 ABs versus major league pitching, and unless I do nothing but attempt to bunt, I'm probably fanning 490 times. But, the point I'm trying to make is that the differences in athletic prowess between the best and worst full-time major league hitter is a LOT smaller than most people realize. And because that difference is small - a LOT of little things can impact results.

Most of the baseball battles are fought not by the cream or the chaff. They are fought by the guys in the middle - average hitters facing average pitchers. We concentrate on the results of the stars, of course. But, in baseball, the stars only get 10-12% of the opportunities. The star pitcher will throw 200 innings of the 1450 that his team accumulates, (about 14%).

The focus in all sports is on the stars. But, in baseball, where the stars must wait their turn, most games are determined not by the stars, but by the average players. And this is why out of all sports that baseball has always had the flattest curve between winners and losers. The day-to-day performances of the guys in the middle are deciding many more games than most people realize. But, the talent difference is so small between the middle guys that tiny things going on around them that have nothing to do with talent, can have major impact on outcomes.

Of course, baseball has a 162-game season. So, over the course of six months, most of these variables tend to even out. And as they even out, the 'difference' makers, the superstars, pay enough dividends to turn average teams into winners. But, since there are so many more average players than superstars, if one is able to tweak conditions to favor those average players, THEN seemingly magical things can occur. But, it's not magic. Getting an extra 2% in production out of 5 guys is worth MORE than getting an extra 10% out of one. Why? Because if you have one major weapon, baseball allows you to bypass that dangerous weapon strategically. You can pitch around 1 guy. You cannot pitch around 5 or 6 or 7. And it is impossible to get that one guy up "when" you need him.

For Seattle, in 2007, after a 10-10 April and 16-14 May, the team stood 26-24. They had proven for 2 full months that they were effectively a .500 team. They go 9-2 to begin June. Felix wasn't the winning pitcher in ANY of them. Then they lost 6 in a row. Then they won 9 of 10 to finish the month with an 18-9 record for the month. Was it the star, Felix that led them? No. He went 1-1 with a 4.60 ERA for June, (though the club did win 4 of his 5 starts). Offensively, Ibanez had a great June, (.870 OPS), but he had an even better August, (1129 OPS), when the club only went 15-13. The club managed to go 14-14 in July while Ibanez was posting a .503 OPS.

Pennants are not won by one guy "carrying" a team, despite the many pundits and fans who have bought into this myth. Winning pennants DEMANDS production from pitchers, hitters and fielders. All of those are plural. In 2001, Barry Bonds had perhaps the single greatest offensive performance in the history of the game to that point. His team didn't make the playoffs. Arizona won the division (and World Series) that season. History says they did this because of two great pitchers - Unit and Schilling. The offense was "carried" by Luis Gonzo. Well, the reality is this. Arizona finished THIRD in fewest runs allowed. Yes, Unit and Schilling provided 500 of the 1450 innings. But, Luis Gonzo provided only 419 of the 2472 total bases the offense produced. The OFFENSE for Arizona also ironically ranked 3rd in total runs scored. That team won more than San Fran because of guys like Counsell and Dellucci and Spivey and Jay Bell and Steve Finley *ALL* producing 90+ OPS figures. But, because of the "star" power of Unit and Schilling, they get credit for carrying a team, where in fact, the offense was statistically equal to the aggregate pitching.

So, what does all of the above mean for Seattle in 2009? It is intended to shine a light on a simple reality. If Barry Bonds, posting a 1379 OPS cannot carry his team to the playoffs, over a team of guys like Jay Bell, why would one expect a guy like Dunn or Swisher do it for Seattle? At the end of 2001, San Fran's offense ended up ranked 5th in runs scored in the NL.

The key to making a pennant run is not that "one" player. It is having 7 or 8 players coming together and having fun and playing hard. Sometimes "one" player can add the right ingredients to make those average players a bit better. But, history shows us that more often than not, the superstar arrival tends to have the opposite effect more often.

Seattle has begun 2009 with a fantastic mixture of youth, talent and experience. They have been lucky in a spate of different ways, managing to win games despite most of the roster being in an offensive funk. But there is a lot of truth to the old chestnut, "You make your own luck." The players are not idiots. They KNOW that they are going to have to play better offensively if they are going to keep things going. But, they also know that they are almost all capable of playing better.

Could the club use another 120 OPS+ bat? Certainly. But the following players that are already under club control have the capacity to produce a 120 OPS+ season: Lopez, Beltre, Ichiro, Gutierrez, Griffey, Wlad, Carp, and Branyan (already doing so). Each has either done so previously, or is young enough where upper limits in production are not yet known. Terry Pendleton, the import who helped turn around the Atlanta franchise had a bat LESS scary and with LESS potential for vast improvement than Franklin Gutierrez. Yet, he ended up with an MVP season.

At 10-6, the club is on "pace" to win 100. Of course, nobody expects the team to continue at that pace. But, like that Arizona club, they have two starters that may be the best two pitchers in the AL. They have a cadre of guys used to being at the back of the bus - Branyan, Endy - being handed a chance to play full-time. BOTH have gotten off to fantastic starts. They are loose and together. THAT is a genuinely dangerous combination for the competition.

But all that said, EVERY pennant chase has ups and downs. This club WILL have some 6-game losing streaks, (and yes, that is plural). But, the team is also capable of winning 10 or 12 in a row. Back in 1982, Atlanta began the season 13-0. They would finish April 16-5. In August, the season nearly fell apart as they went 13-18, and went from 9 ahead on July 29th to 4 back on August 18th. In the end, they were 3 back on September 22nd, but ended up winning the division by a game. THAT is the anatomy of a pennant race.

You cannot predict the precise ups and downs of any particular pennant race. Almost no one was predicting Tampa in the 2009 World Series. The optimists might've said that the Rays might squeeze out a 3rd place in the AL East, and perhaps if things went perfectly for them they might win 75 for the first time in franchise history. By April 22nd, they were 9-11 and 5 games back, (that included losing 2 of 3 to that 2009 powerhouse called the Mariners).

In the end, the secret that separates the winners from the close-but-no-cigar teams is the truth that their fans should, (but rarely do), learn. That they should embrace the good times. REVEL in every lucky break that goes your way. GUSH with appreciation for the winning streaks, ESPECIALLY if the wins may not seem deserved. Enjoy those precious times when you move into the flow of the universe and it seems that the entire world is lining up to give you every gift you could wish for on a silver platter. But, the flip side is to NOT despair during the periods where the toilet of the universe backs up on you.

This is no trivial task that I suggest. To embrace the highs and release the lows takes an amount of mental and emotional discipline that few on the planet have ever possessed. Yet, that is probably the best description around for what a major league manager is expected to do -- not only for himself, but that is the chore set before him in dealing with 25 distinct personalities that actually play the games.

What is the most common route to the playoffs? Have two GOOD months (18-9), and play .500 ball the other 4. Think about that. A pair of 17-10 months (36-18), and .500 ball the rest of the season gets you to 90-72. Heck, going 18-9 isn't even an exceptionally good month. That is a 'commonly' good month. That 2007 Seattle team went 18-9 in June. They just were not able to put together that second good month.

For Seattle, in 2009, with a division of foes who have teams as flawed (or more) than the Mariners, believing that 90 wins can take the division is not a reach. In some seasons, 93 wins wouldn't be enough. This does not appear to be one of those seasons. But, it's early. As sure as the moon rises, there will be tides ebbing and flowing, teams waxing and waning. Enjoy it exactly backward of how you enjoy a rollercoaster. Scream in joy as the team skyrockets upward, and then anticipate the next undulation as the team plunges. Though we may not know the twists and turns to come, we can enjoy the ride -- and try not to throw up until it's over.