Apparently still unfazed that their club continues to employ Jeff Weaver, Seattle Mariners fans are being urged to support their team on “Mariners Monday.”

Bet you didn’t even know it was a holiday in Seattle. This is the brainchild of Seattle mayor — and big M’s fan — Greg Nickels, who threw in his five cents’ worth by authorizing the proclamation before the big three-game series against the Halos, which starts today.

From MLB.com:

The mayor, a devoted baseball fan, has jumped aboard the Mariners’ caravan for what he hopes will be the exquisite anxiety of a bona fide pennant chase. He believes the team has worked itself into contention and wants to involve his fellow citizens.

Fans are encouraged to show their support by wearing blue to the office, and around the city as part of “Lolla-Blue-Za.”

Lolla-Blue-Za? The bad color pun doesn’t even end there:

From the mayor through his constituency, Seattle is tickled blue with the Mariners being back in a playoff chase.

“He’s a very big Mariners fan,” Marty McOmber, the mayor’s spokesman, said of Nickels. “It’s very exciting to be in a pennant race. You can feel the excitement. He’s doing this to encourage fans. It’s a great opportunity to show Mariners pride.”

Tickled blue?

The M’s are right in the race — two games behind Anaheim in the AL West and two games up on the Yankees in the wild-card race — but can’t they just do another promotion where people can shave their heads like Jay Buhner and watch a game for free or something?

Lolla-Blue-Za?

Regardless, considering that this team had a strange first half (lots of postponements in April, Felix getting hurt, Weaver’s atrocious start, Mike Hargrove unexpectedly resigning before the All-Star break, etc.), they should celebrate somehow. How about getting some of the coffeehouses involved? Latte-palooza sounds better, anyway.

Oh yeah, here’s the link. And happy Mariners Monday to everyone.

Someday, I’m guessing around the year 2048, Wes Littleton will tell his grandchildren about the time he slammed the door on the Baltimore Orioles to preserve a key save to help his team win the first game of a doubleheader on a hot August day many years before. I can almost hear the conversation now …

“Yep, even the best closers of the day — Hoffman, Rivera — they only would throw one inning. Maybe, maybe once in a while, they’d come into the game in the eighth, but even that was pretty rare,” the Rangers reliever will tell the little Littleton. “But your ol’ grandpa Wes was up to any challenge, and when my team asked me to go three innings one day, I took that ball and went out to the mound and I went all three innings.”

“Did you save the day, grandpa?” the youngster asks as he looks through a pack of eight plutonium-coated Topps cards that his dad paid $12.99 for that afternoon. “Hey, look, I got a Ken Griffey Junior Junior Junior card!”

Unfazed, grandpa Wes continues.

“Yep, you bet I did. And this was back when some games were played outdoors, in the heat. Back before these billion-dollar salaries. Back when most teams had more than one or two guys who grew up in the U.S. It’s not like today, I tell ya … ”

Young Littleton interjects. “Did you get everyone out?”

“Ol’ Grandpa Wes was really on that day, my boy. Nine up, nine down. (He actually gave up two hits and a walk, but those things evaporate over time). Nailed down that save and we went on to win the second game, too. What a day.”

The youngster’s eyes light up. “Did you win the World Series?”

“Well, no son, we didn’t quite win it. But hey, look at the Cubs. They haven’t won a World Series in 140 years. The important thing is that I was part of a team effort, and they counted on me to get those guys out so we didn’t lose.”

“Wow,” the youth chimes in, “it must have been a lot of pressure. What if you gave up 28 runs in the ninth and choked?”

Wes suddenly gets a little grumpy. “Aw, you kids today with your dang iStats and Googleball and all that. Take the fun out of everything.”

Webb surfing and stepping up to the Micah

I remember watching Orel Hershiser finishing off his 59 consecutive scoreless innings streak in 1988, and thinking that record would be fairly unapproachable for a while. Orel’s surgery was amazing toward the end of that season, and it continued into the postseason and ultimately — with a little help from fist-pumping gimpy Gibson — led to a World Series crown for the Dodgers.

Suddenly, Brandon Webb is perhaps two games away from such immortality. In his last five outings, he’s blanked the opposition the entire time on the hill, tossing complete-game shutouts in each of his last three trips to the mound. Two more of those and he’ll top Hershiser’s mark. Webb has a string of 42 scoreless innings. He’s allowed 23 hits and seven walks in his five most recent outings (which cover 41 of those 42 shutout innings).

But my favorite part of the Webb story, regardless of the ending, has been his reaction. Check out this from Friday night’s game in Atlanta, courtesy of MLB.com:

As he stood in the on-deck circle in the ninth inning on Friday, a couple of Braves fans in the front row said to him, “Aren’t you getting tired yet?”

Webb told them that he was still feeling good and they told him that they thought he was pitching well, to which he said, “Thank you very much.”

The scene took place in front of D-backs CEO Jeff Moorad and team president Derrick Hall, both of whom were amazed that despite the fact that he was in the middle of his streak, Webb still acknowledged the fans.

“Are you kidding me?” Hall said. “That tells you right there what kind of person Brandon Webb is.”

Webb’s next two starts should be at home against Milwaukee and at San Diego.

If he does break the record and becomes bored with throwing shutout after shutout, perhaps he could turn his attention toward improving his hitting — and he wouldn’t have to look far for inspiration.

Micah Owings wears No. 44 for the Diamondbacks, and I think I know why. The guy grew up in Atlanta and probably is a fan of Hank Aaron.

And on Saturday, he put on an offensive show that Aaron himself would have been proud of.

Owings went 4-for-5 with two homers and six RBI in the Diamondbacks’ win over the Braves. He had the most RBI by a pitcher since 2002 (Robert Person had seven for the Phillies’ that day) and his 11 total bases were the most by a pitchers in 65 years, according to the Elias Sports Bureau — and I’ll take their word for it.

But for those who may think these taters were a fluke, check out the video: These are long blasts. This guy looks like a right-handed Adam Dunn at the dish (Dunn also wears No. 44), minus a few pounds, but at 6-5, 220, Owings is hardly a punch-and-Judy hitter.

I feel bad for Yusmeiro Petit, Sunday’s starter for the Snakes. He’s got a couple of tough acts to follow, to be sure.

Some serious High-Jenks

White Sox closer Bobby Jenks has quietly put together one of the most amazing streaks in baseball history.

White the rest of the baseball world has been watching Barry Bonds, A-Rod and Tom Glavine shoot for milestones, Jenks was busy creating one of his own.

It began in an odd way, during a blown save against Cleveland on July 17. Jenks allowed a game-tying, two-run homer to Ryan Garko with one out. Jenks recovered to retire the last two batters of the inning, and since then, his pitching line has been remarkable.

Two days later, he pitched a three-up, three-down inning at Boston. Then he did the same thing three times in a series with Detroit — three perfect innings over three appearances.

He pitched twice in Toronto after that, each time retiring all three batters he faced. He repeated that in another two outings against the Yankees, and again twice more against Detroit. Wednesday, against Cleveland, another perfect inning.

That set the stage for Friday against Seattle. He began with a 3-0 count to Jose Lopez, but recovered with two called strikes and got Lopez to swing and miss for the out. Yuniesky Betancourt grounded out and when Jenks induced a ground out from Ichiro to end the inning, it stretched his streak of consecutive outs to 38, tying the American League record set by David Wells in 1998. From MLB.com: Jenks also stands even with Pittsburgh’s Harvey Haddix for the fourth-longest streak of domination in baseball history, trailing only Jim Barr’s Major League mark of 41 (1972 with the Giants), Tom Browning at 40 (1988 with the Reds) and Randy Johnson at 39 (2004 with the Diamondbacks).

Here’s the link to MLB.com’s story on Jenks.

Hopefully I didn’t jinx Jenks, but I think this is particularly impressive for a reliever, coming in cold so many different times. A starter at least has a chance to get into the flow of a game. For a closer, nearly every inning is pressure packed and you only get three outs at a time. One thing’s for sure: It’s an amazing run.

I was watching ESPN2 with my son, who is 8 years old, when Barry Bonds hit his historic homer on Tuesday night. My son knew Bonds had tied the record a few days ago, and that this homer put him alone atop the all-time homer list. He even knew the exact number, probably because I’d been talking about it for weeks.

We watched together as Bonds circled the bases. We watched together when the message from Hank Aaron came on the center-field screen. We watched together as Bonds thanked the fans, his family and his teammates. We watched together as the replay was shown over and over and over, from every angle. We watched together as the game resumed, and I told him about how the last time this record was broken, I was roughly his age. As great as all of that was, the underlying importance lies within the first three words of every preceding sentence in this paragraph. We. Watched. Together.

Barry Bonds doesn’t know us and never will. That doesn’t bother me. But I do wish he could somehow know about how his crowning moment was equally special for me and my boy, and the exhilaration my son felt as Bonds jogged around the bases.

“I’ll always remember August 7, 2007,” he told me — much the same way, I imagine, that I remember April 8, 1974, though I didn’t see Aaron hit No. 715 on TV. “This is awesome.”

I loved that he understood the historical significance and rarity with which something like this occurs, even at his age.

I loved that the only “juice” I thought about all night was when my wife asked me to refill the cup for my 2-year-old daughter a while earlier.

I love that Bud Selig’s conspicuous absence, which has bothered me and will continue to bother me — regardless of whatever comes of any investigation down the road — was temporarily a moot point to me.

But most of all, I loved that this night wasn’t just about a record being broken — it was about celebrating baseball. It was about me and my son — and other moms and dads and their sons and daughters, and about history. I didn’t care that Junior was up too late. I didn’t care that he didn’t recognize Willie Mays on the field. I didn’t care that he had no idea the Washington Nationals were a team. I cared only about one thing: We watched together.

For that reason, perhaps even more than the record itself, I’ll always remember August 7, 2007, too.