By James Bailey
There comes a time for every man to walk away from the game. Unfortunately, most don’t recognize it until it’s too late, until someone else has to tell them. For many this comes in the form of a phone that never rings over the winter. Spring training begins without them, and months later they quietly announce their retirement. In some ways they are the lucky ones, as their exodus isn’t played out hourly on SportsCenter.
The greats of the game have earned the right to go out on their terms, within reason. Cal Ripken was well past his prime when he finished his career at age 40 in 2001. There was enough left in the tank for 14 homers and 68 RBIs as he made his rocking chair tour of the American League. That same season Tony Gwynn closed out his playing days by hitting .324 in 102 at-bats, mostly as a pinch-hitter. He could still swing the bat, but the rest of his game wasn’t up to standard. He retired and marched into the Hall of Fame with Ripken five years later.
Ken Griffey Jr. was welcomed back to Seattle in 2009, 10 years after demanding the trade that broke up the core of the late-90s Mariners. The fans welcomed him back with open hearts, and he thrilled them on occasion with a swing that recalled the glory days of his first decade in town, when he mashed 398 home runs. He managed 19 more last year, despite a lackluster .214 average in 387 at-bats.
Griffey was credited with turning around a cancerous clubhouse and helping the team overachieve its way to an 85-77 record. When the Mariners brought Milton Bradley in over the winter, Griffey was cited as someone who would help the oft-troubled outfielder fit in and flourish again. That hasn’t exactly gone according to script thus far, though it’s unfair to blame Bradley’s issues on the future Hall of Famer.
With Griffey struggling to hit his weight (.208 average, 230 pounds), the good people of Seattle are wondering if he missed a sign from Father Time down in the third base coach’s box. Now comes word that Old Man Griffey was napping during Saturday’s game against the Angels, a contest his team lost 4-3 in extra innings. When manager Don Wakamatsu was looking for a pinch-hitter he couldn’t find Griffey, who was slumbering peacefully in the clubhouse.
A last-place team with an anemic offense can’t afford to carry a memory with a .499 OPS. In 77 at-bats as the club’s primary DH, Griffey has managed just two extra-base hits, both doubles. He’s driven in only five runs all season, and scored just four others. If there were some production here the team could overlook the occasional nap. But even when he’s in the lineup Seattle is playing a man down.
Griffey’s farewell tour is all too reminiscent of Willie Mays’ return to New York. The Mets acquired the old fan favorite in 1972 and he did a passable impression of his former self at times, hitting .267 with a .402 on-base percentage and .446 slugging mark in 195 at-bats. The following year those numbers tailed off, as Mays dropped to a .211 average and .647 OPS. Once the greatest defensive player in the game, he stumbled in the outfield, now a liability with the glove. Still, Mays was afforded the opportunity to finish out the year, even playing into October as his Mets reached the World Series.
For Griffey’s ending to be that sweet he’s going to have to start pumping out some hits. The Mariners are routinely wasting stellar pitching performances because their offense is the worst in the American League. Rumors are swirling that Griffey could be dumped by the end of the month if he doesn’t show he still belongs before then.
At this point there have to be a dozen players in Triple-A that could be plucked for next to nothing who could fill in and do better. Could Jay Gibbons (.393, 6 HR, 22 RBI, 84 AB), Joe Borchard (.358, 6 HR, 25 RBI, 106 AB), or Chris Denorfia (.327, 14 XBH, 12 RBI, 101 AB) cost much or do any worse? All are hitting well in the Triple-A Pacific Coast League. Over in the International League, Hank Blalock (.375, 4 HR, 23 RBI, 96 AB) and Shelley Duncan (.316, 6 HR, 32 RBI, 117 AB) are pounding the ball. Long-term solutions? Unlikely. Capable of hitting better than .208 with no power in the majors? Without question.
The time has come for Griffey to walk away. It’s a shame that it has come to this, but it was almost inevitable. Rare is the player who knows when to say when.
Junior, it’s time.
