Let Down by a Legend

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Ken Griffey Jr. will be remembered as the greatest player of his era, and deservedly so. He retired as the fifth most prolific slugger of all time, walking away from the game with 630 home runs. With his statistical dominance, he insured that his name would forever be connected with the all-time greats.

But Mariner fans know that's not all he did. Without the infusion of talent and character that Griffey brought to town, the future of baseball in Seattle would have been in doubt. He, along with other Mariner legends like Jay Buehner and Edgar Martinez, spawned a new generation of baseball fans throughout the state of Washington. Most importantly, he didn't cheat. His name has never been connected to performance enhancing drugs, freeing him of the dark cloud currently hovering over baseball. In a perfect world, he would decline slowly and gracefully.

Unfortunately, Jr.'s bat was just too slow; his abilities too diminished. It was clear that his career was on its last legs. And yet, his downfall somehow led to the demise of manager Don Wakamatsu.

Reports from the clubhouse indicate that the players' loyalty to Wak left with, and because of, Griffey. When the story emerged that Jr. had been sleeping in the clubhouse, the message should have been clear: that a once-dominant superstar was merely a shell of his former self, tired from 20 years of MLB service. There's no shame in decline due to age. It's standard fare for professional sports.

Instead, the incident created a divisive, bickering clubhouse that never came close to reconciling. According to reports, Griffey blamed Wak for the leak about his napping and he made sure to spread his discontent around the clubhouse. The other players were quick to take Griffey's side. After all, who is going to disagree with an all-time great? They felt that a player of Griffey's stature should go out on his own terms.

As the season progressed and it became obvious that Griffey had no business hitting regularly, Wak tried other options to give life to the dreadful offense. Jr.'s pride, however, disagreed. Instead of staying with the team as a PR stunt and celebratory relic, he retired. However, this was not the retirement of the Kid. This was the retirement of the Curmudgeon. It was not a fitting end for a player that had long been known for his playful, friendly spirit. Instead, he was just gone one day, leaving a seething, passive-aggressive statement in his wake. At first glance, it seemed friendly enough, albeit sad. However, a closer reading revealed an angry break-up letter from a player who refused to admit his skills were diminished.

After the departure, the Mariners' season quickly went from bad to worse. The clubhouse, which had once been known for unity and a frat-like brotherhood, was now downright venomous. On pace for another 100 loss season, someone had to pay. Wakamatsu, who just a year ago was seen as the savior of the franchise and a breath of fresh air, was now seen as the problem. Players didn't respect him and the team was losing. The remnants of Griffey's discontent grew like weeds until the the team was engulfed in bitterness. Even in retirement, Jr.'s anger has not faded. Earlier reports indicated that Griffey had claimed he would not return to Safeco Field while Wakamatsu was there, claiming that he was not treated like a player of his caliber should have been.

I won't claim that Wak was having his best year, but he deserved more time to rebuild a shattered clubhouse. He was handed a flawed roster from the very beginning, with three one-dimensional players (Bradley, Griffey, and Sweeney) and a group of pathetically incompetent hitters (Jack Wilson, Johnson, Kotchman). To put the nail in his coffin, the remaining players had the worst stats of their career, with Figgins hitting a hundred points below his career average. The lack of talent alone would have been a problem, but Griffey made it significantly worse. Instead of providing the veteran presence that he had in 2009, Jr. was a divisive force, unable to accept his demise. Instead of living up to his soon-to-be legend, Ken Griffey Jr. showed a selfish, angry side and sabotaged the career of an up-and-coming manager for pride.