M's dancing crew forges new ground

Forget the seventh-inning stretch — there's a new game in town.

Mariners baseball fans aren't stepping out for garlic fries or cold beers when the Safeco Field groundskeepers take the field in the sixth inning. Every few games or so, the crew members discard their infield rakes for a seemingly impromptu dance session, jerking their way through disco hits with a nod of the head and a swivel of the hip.

"I was so distracted by the spectacle that I missed my opportunity to flag down the beer man," Seattle resident Ryan Nickum said at a recent game. "And it was almost worth it.

"If Edgar (Martinez) tried those moves, he'd be on the disabled list until September," he added.

Gone are the crew's days of hawk-eyeing the length of the grass and the consistency of the dirt. These days, the questions tend more toward, "Is everyone in step for the jazz square?"

It all started when the Mariners management saw the Yankee Stadium crew performing to the ubiquitous "YMCA" song. Why not at Safeco Field? Head groundskeeper Bob Christofferson was willing to oblige; the tough part would be convincing his staff.

"When I first proposed this to them, they said I was crazy," he said. "Now, they're fighting to dance on a given night."

But a reluctant middle-aged groundskeeper does not a dancer make. The Safeco Field crew worked long and hard to learn the routines, perfect the moves and juggle it all between regular duties. That's an estimated 20 hours of listening to the Bee Gees' "You Should Be Dancing," the most recent routine the troupe performs.

The same choreographer who gets the Sonics' dancers performance-ready — but the similarities end there — was brought in to teach the groundskeepers a two-minute dance. The group was mortified to have to learn it in a dance studio and its unforgiving four-way mirrors.

"Our deal to do this was that we could still do our job — and that we didn't look really stupid," said Don Brisbois, 44. "We look just stupid enough to be funny."

The crew members aren't the only ones with this opinion.

"When I first heard about it, I thought it was a joke," said Marci Cartwright, whose husband, Roger, is among the dancers. "Then when it started happening, I just laughed."

At a recent practice, calling out jokes and playful ribbing were as prevalent as counting off the routine. Most of them worked for Christofferson when he led the grounds crew at Tacoma's Cheney Stadium and followed him up to Seattle. Some have been friends since elementary school.

The dancers laugh about their first performance in March, recalling how nervous they were to do the hustle in front of 40,000 people.

"But the second we went out and did it, I immediately knew it was a huge success," Christofferson said. "The crowd went wild, and now they're wondering when we're going to do it again."

The dancing has taken on a life of its own. The group has put in two outside performances and, if the warm reception is any indication, might up that number before the season is out. The groundskeepers also have made their own video, a spoof of VH1's "Behind the Music."

Though there are 10 game-time groundskeepers, only five do the routine at a game. They take turns dancing, while the others tend to the field. Some crew members are recent high-school and college graduates, but most are middle-aged guys with daytime jobs such as attorneys, physical therapists and teachers who are incredibly devoted to their field. Even when the team is away, they check the Mariners Web site to see how it's faring. They do the job because they love it.

That job includes a lot of dance-less shuffling during a game. Before the first pitch, the field must be cleared and in perfect condition, and the pitcher's mound and home plate are made spotless. The crew clears the grass and warning track of fan debris during play and watches the field closely for any midgame repairs.

The dancing groundskeepers have learned two routines but have plans to debut another in the future.

What are they waiting for? The same thing as the rest of us: the playoffs.

Lisa Heyamoto: 206-464-2149 or lheyamoto@seattletimes.com.