I miss watching the Seattle Mariners lose.

Obviously, I am not like most baseball fans. The crack of the bat brings back horrible memories of playing third base and letting grounders through my legs. Powerful home runs lead me to immediately factor in how much steroids were involved. And I believe there is no such thing as a riveting pitchers’ duel.

Still, I look forward to baseball season because I get an odd amount of joy out of watching the Mariners struggle.

Many of my Seattle friends would hate me for saying so, but watching the Mariners blow late-inning leads is one of my favorite sporting events. I can’t get enough of it. A few years ago, the M’s had one of the worst bullpens in Major League Baseball, and I had one of the best years of my life. Coincidence? Probably not.

Growing up in Nampa, Idaho, I had ample opportunity to become a Mariners fan. The team was all over the newspapers and television since they were the closest major league team to the area. But instead of falling for them, I started despising them. I liked the team when it had Griffey and Randy Johnson and A-Rod, but once they started selling off those players, my distaste for the franchise grew by leaps and bounds.

Going to school in Seattle made things worse. People in Seattle only liked the Mariners when they were doing well, and their fair-weather attitude really ate at me. Sure, there were the die-hards who would support the team no matter what, but there were more who simply did not care unless something historical was happening.

All of these factors have made Mariner losses strangely rewarding for me. I try to catch their games on FOX Sports Northwest to see what new way they have discovered to go down in flames. I follow their futile attempts at contending with a smug grin on my face. I really eat this stuff up.

So welcome back, baseball. Your fans have missed you dearly. And I hope you have some new Mariner lows to delight us with this season.