CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Building a Winner Without Johnson, Junior, A-Rod

THE MARINERS TRIED TO RECAPTURE THE MAGIC OF 1995 but never came close through the remainder of the 1990s.

They were a good team, no doubt, and after the front office made such additions as first baseman Paul Sorrento and pitchers Jamie Moyer and Jeff Fassero, the Mariners won the AL West again in 1997. The Baltimore Orioles smothered them with pitching in the first round of the playoffs, winning three of four to eliminate the Mariners.

The Mariners, however, were a changing team as the decade went on.

In 1998, they dealt unhappy pitcher Randy Johnson to the Houston Astros at the trade deadline. Before the 2000 season, center fielder Ken Griffey Jr. was gone, traded to the Cincinnati Reds. And a year later, shortstop Alex Rodriguez shunned the Mariners’ five-year, $95 million offer and jumped at a deal he couldn’t pass up, 10 years and $252 million from the Texas Rangers.

Despite losing their three best players in less than four years, the Mariners remained competitive and returned to the postseason.

Without Johnson in 1999, the Mariners built their rotation around the young pitcher they got from the Astros in return, right-hander Freddy Garcia.

Without Griffey in 2000, they plugged the defensive void in center field with Mike Cameron, one of four players obtained from the Reds in that trade. Then they added smooth-swinging John Olerud at first base, Japanese pitcher Kazuhiro Sasaki at closer and won the American League wild card.

Without Rodriguez in 2001, the Mariners signed Japanese right fielder Ichiro Suzuki, second baseman Bret Boone, and retooled the team to fit the pitching/defense/small-ball style that was needed to win at Safeco Field. They put together the greatest season in American League history and tied baseball’s all-time record with 116 regular-season victories.

The Mariners still had Edgar Martinez, Jay Buhner, and Dan Wilson, but they never achieved what they truly wanted, an appearance in the World Series.

“You always wonder what we could have done if we’d been able to put all those components together,” said John McLaren, manager Lou Piniella’s bench coach on those 2000 and 2001 playoff teams. “What if we could have kept Randy and Junior and Alex, and put them together with Edgar and Cameron and Boone and Ichiro? I understand the financial restraints of the game and I know there’s a time when guys move on, but you wonder just what we could have accomplished with all those guys together.”

Mike Cameron: Fan Favorite After Griffey

Watching the trade rumors from his home in Georgia, Mike Cameron was no different than any other baseball fan during the offseason between the 1999 and 2000 seasons. The Ken Griffey Jr. saga enthralled him.

It seemed certain that the Mariners would trade Griffey, and it was no secret that he would wind up in Cincinnati. Cameron, the Reds’ promising young center fielder, knew such a trade would dramatically change his role, if not the team he played for as well.

Trade rumors ran wild, but the name Cameron rarely heard was his own.

“The only person I heard being mentioned was Pokey,” Cameron said.

Pokey Reese was the name that appeared in the Seattle newspapers more than any other. And rightfully so. The Mariners needed a second baseman, and Reese not only played the position well, he could provide the type of offense the M’s needed, having hit .285 and stolen 38 bases in 1999. Reese could provide the type of athleticism that manager Lou Piniella was seeking.

“All I heard was Pokey, Pokey, Pokey,” Cameron said. “But all of a sudden, the trade was made and there were four of us going to Seattle.”

Mariners general manager Pat Gillick swung a five-player trade—Griffey to the Reds for pitchers Brett Tomko and Jake Meyer, minor-league infielder Antonio Perez and, of course, Cameron.

The trade surprised Cameron, who had played only one season in Cincinnati after beginning his career with the Chicago White Sox.

“I was still trying to get a sense of who I was as a player at the time,” he said. “I was highly regarded with the White Sox and I thought that was going to be my team forever, but I had a bad sophomore season and got traded to the Reds. We almost got to the playoffs the last day of the season, and we were so young and had so many good young players on the team that I thought we would stay together forever.”

In an era of free agency and frequent player movement, no team stays together long. Cameron not only had to face the difficult fact that he had been traded, but also that he was replacing a Mariners legend.

When the trade was announced, Mariners fans were irate. They scolded Gillick on radio talk shows and roasted him in newspaper letters to the editor. They said the Reds stole the Mariners blind, that Gillick gave away the franchise in exchange for four barely known players.

Cameron understood the fans’ lament.

“I knew it would be a difficult task to be comfortable,” he said. “There was no way possible that anybody could come in and fill Junior’s shoes. He’d been here since he was 19, and he was what people here were accustomed to seeing.”

Cameron, however, had extreme confidence in his ability to play center field, and that gave him comfort. So did the team he was coming to. The Mariners were far from a one-man team with Griffey, and without him they still had Alex Rodriguez, Edgar Martinez, Dan Wilson, and Jay Buhner, plus veteran newcomers John Olerud, Mark McLemore, and Stan Javier.

“I knew I was coming to a good team, and if all I did was just play, the other things would take care of themselves,” Cameron said.

Still, there was no mistaking that the spotlight was directed at Cameron. Confident in his ability to play center field, he welcomed it.

“I didn’t really worry about it until I got to Seattle,” he said. “Everybody got a chance to see me at spring training, and that was an opportunity for me to show what I could do. I worked really hard to get to the level where I felt they wouldn’t miss anything without Griffey out there, even though I knew that wasn’t possible.”

Cameron tiptoed through the first three games, playing well in center field and, after going 0-for-4 in the season opener against the Red Sox, warming up with the bat. In the second game, he went 2-for-5, including a triple, to help the Mariners beat the Red Sox. The following night, in the third game, he hit his first home run as a Mariner in another victory.

The Yankees came to Seattle for the Mariners’ first weekend series of 2000, and Safeco Field was filled nearly to capacity on Friday, April 7. In the eighth inning, as the Mariners tried to protect a 6–3 lead, Cameron literally leaped into the welcoming arms of the fans who’d been so uneasy after losing Griffey.

Derek Jeter, who had homered early in the game, launched a high fly off Mariners reliever Paul Abbott, and the ball seemed headed for the patio area beyond the center-field fence. Cameron sprinted to the warning track and leaped high against the wall. When he came down, he had the ball in the webbing of his glove, robbing Jeter of a home run.

“I had a good bead on it,” Cameron said. “I snow-coned it in my glove and brought it back over the fence. It felt like it happened in slow motion, where I was able to catch the ball and see it slipping out of my glove, and then pop it back in there.”

Better than saving a run against the Yankees, that magnificent leap became the moment Mariners fans accepted Cameron. As he jogged back to the dugout after the third out, the crowd at Safeco Field gave him a long, loud standing ovation.

“I got chills,” Cameron said. “It was a special moment for me. That catch allowed the city to feel comfortable with the type of player they had. I’d made those catches all the time in Chicago and Cincinnati. But the fact that I was able to do it here kind of allowed people to feel comfortable with me.”

From an unknown replacement for Griffey, Cameron became the perfect man to patrol the vast center field at the Mariners’ new outdoor ballpark, Safeco Field. With deep gaps and heavy marine air, there aren’t many no-doubt-about-it home runs at Safeco. High fly balls tend to hang for the outfielders to catch, but it takes speed and a no-fear approach to succeed.

Cameron made every kind of catch—with body-slams into the padding, leaps above the wall, and dives to the turf on bloops in the gaps—and his career flourished in Seattle. He won Gold Glove awards in 2001 and 2003 and, despite his tendency to strike out, he served as a force in the middle of the Mariners’ batting order during their playoff runs in 2000 and 2001. His 25 home runs and 110 RBIs in 2001 were career highs.

“I was a good player when I got to Seattle,” Cameron said. “After I got here, I started to really grasp what kind of player I was. What helped was that we had the type of players to allow me to flourish the way I wanted to.”

If the catch of Jeter’s ball in 2000 was the moment Cameron became known as a bona fide replacement for Griffey, his offensive performance on May 2, 2002, served notice to the kind of hitter he was. He hit four home runs that night against the White Sox in Comiskey Park, becoming one of 18 in major-league history to do it.

For one night, he’d accomplished something even the great Griffey hadn’t.

“I’ve had an asterisk by my name as the guy traded for Ken Griffey Jr.,” Cameron said that night. “Now maybe I’ll have another asterisk.”

Alex Rodriguez: From Most Valuable to Most Vilified

The first day he pulled on a Mariners uniform, Alex Rodriguez made an impression, not only with his bat or his glove.

It was the spring of 1994, and Rodriguez, baseball’s first overall draft pick in 1993, worked out for a day with the big-league club.

“The one thing that caught my eye was his eagerness to learn,” said John McLaren, the Mariners’ bullpen coach then. “He asked a lot of questions and he left a nice impression that he really, really enjoyed playing the game of baseball.”

Only a few months later, Rodriguez was in the majors. He’d progressed through the Class-A and Double-A levels quickly and manager Lou Piniella called him up just before the All-Star break. At 18, he became baseball’s youngest major leaguer since Jose Rijo with the Yankees at 18 in 1984.

“You could tell he had a world of talent,” McLaren said.

Being so young, Rodriguez struggled. He batted just .204 in 17 games before the Mariners sent him back to the minors in 1994, and the next year, after spending the first month at the Triple-A level, Rodriguez batted .232 with five home runs and 19 RBIs in 48 games with the Mariners.

“He was a baby-faced kid then,” McLaren said. “You could see that he was bug-eyed that first year, looking at players like Ken Griffey Jr., who he idolized, and Randy Johnson, Jay Buhner, and Edgar Martinez. Kenny talked with him about handling the pressures of being a star, and all of those guys helped him become the player he is.”

Rodriguez experienced an adjustment period, albeit a short one.

Like many young players, he loved to pull the ball, and the Mariners knew he would struggle if he didn’t hit to all fields. Piniella and hitting coach Lee Elia worked with Rodriguez, teaching him to stay inside the ball and drive it to right-center field.

Edgar Martinez congratulates Alex Rodriguez at the plate after A-Rod’s home run. Photo by Justin Best/The Herald of Everett, Washington

The results were almost immediate. In 1996, Rodriguez hit 35 home runs and drove in 123, led the league with a .358 batting average, made the All-Star team, and won the Player of the Year award.

“He learned how to hit in a hurry,” McLaren said. “You knew the natural talent was there, and Lee Elia and Lou Piniella were the ones who shaped this kid.”

Rodriguez’s numbers fell off in 1997—23 homers, 84 RBIs, and a .300 average—but in 1998 he produced the best all-around year of his Mariners career. Rodriguez hit 42 home runs, drove in 124, and stole 46 bases, making him the third player in history, at the time, to hit at least 40 home runs and steal 40 bases in the same season. (Jose Canseco did it in 1988 and Barry Bonds in 1996. Alfonso Soriano became the fourth in 2006.)

As much as Rodriguez meant to the Mariners’ lineup, fans who looked at the future of the team began to worry. Griffey would be eligible for free agency after the 1999 season and Rodriguez the following year. Offers by the Mariners to both players in 1999 went nowhere, and Griffey was traded to the Reds the next offseason.

Rodriguez’s free-agent season was next, in 2000, and despite hitting 41 homers and driving in 132 runs to help return the Mariners to the playoffs, his future became a frequent topic of concern.

Rodriguez said all the right things to ease the fans’ fear of his possible departure. He said the most important criteria for his next team would be its ability to win a championship. The Mariners, who’d taken the Yankees to six games in the 2000 ALCS, seemed as close as any team to that.

The Mariners had understood from Rodriguez’s agent, Scott Boras, that he didn’t want to be tied to an ultra-long contract. They offered him five years at $95 million, and Rodriguez barely sniffed at it.

The New York Mets courted Rodriguez and then backed away, but Texas Rangers owner Tom Hicks made an offer that Rodriguez couldn’t shun—$252 million over 10 years. Rodriguez took it, and Mariners fans became livid.

They never forgave Rodriguez for making such a big deal of his desire to sign with a winning team. The Rangers, with a pitching staff that was in shambles, were many years from being competitive.

Many newspapers used the term “Pay-Rod” in their headlines after he signed the deal. The Everett Herald ran a “Pay-Rod Meter” on its website, showing Rodriguez’s salary total climbing by the second.

Rodriguez never came close to the championship he said he wanted. While the Mariners charged toward a record-tying 116 victories in 2001, the Rangers finished last in the American League West with a 73–69 record, 43 games behind the first-place Ms. The Rangers’ 5.71 team ERA was the worst in baseball that year.

When Rodriguez returned with the Rangers to Safeco Field, Mariners fans booed him viciously every time he came to bat or fielded a ball. Some fans threw wads of bills that fluttered from the upper deck. Before his first at-bat after returning as a Ranger, Rodriguez stood in the on-deck circle unaware that a fan in the front row was using a fishing pole to dangle a dollar bill over his head.

“Alex set down some criteria for what he wanted, but when Tom Hicks came with all that money, the criteria crumbled,” McLaren said. “I’ve been an Alex Rodriguez fan and I always will be. It’s a shame that so many people look to pick on the guy, but it goes with the territory.”

Mariners Y2K: Return to the Postseason, Without Griffey

If the difficult 1999 season proved anything, it’s that the Mariners needed to play a different style of baseball at Safeco Field than they played in the Kingdome.

Mariners fans heckle Alex Rodriguez after he signed with the Texas Rangers. Photo by Stephanie S. Cordle/The Herald of Everett, Washington

In the dome, they could sneak a couple of runners on base and wait for a three-run homer. At the new ballpark, where the outfield gaps were big and the cool marine air from nearby Puget Sound turned long balls into outs at the warning track, it would take pitching, defense, and a small-ball attack to win.

Manager Lou Piniella had cried for a more athletic lineup, and when the Mariners got together for spring training in 2000, he had it.

Mike Cameron brought speed, decent power, and a solid glove. The Mariners signed first baseman John Olerud, the former batting champion who grew up in nearby Bellevue, Washington, hoping he could take advantage of Safeco Field’s vast spaces and spray the ball to all fields. They added veteran Mark McLemore, an infielder/outfielder who gave Piniella both versatility and speed off the bench, and added 18-year veteran Stan Javier, who could handle the bat in any situation and provide leadership in the clubhouse.

Aaron Sele, another home-state player who grew up in Poulsbo, Washington, signed as a free agent and joined a starting rotation that included Freddy Garcia, Jamie Moyer, Paul Abbott, and John Halama.

The Mariners strengthened the bullpen, one of the club’s biggest concerns, by signing Kazuhiro Sasaki, Japan’s all-time saves leader, who replaced Jose Mesa at closer. They also acquired hard-throwing Arthur Rhodes, a left-handed relief specialist.

After a 79-victory season in 1999 that left them in third place, Piniella was asked midway through spring training if the 2000 Mariners could win more than 85 games.

“Oh please,” he said. “Let’s not get too carried away.”

After all, the Mariners were trying to move on without Ken Griffey Jr.

They didn’t come close to winning 85. They won 91.

A 19–8 record in June propelled the Mariners into first place, one-half game ahead of Oakland, and they steadily increased the margin as the summer went on. By August 11, they led by seven games over the A’s.

“We played good ball that year,” pitching coach Bryan Price said. “But when we would lose a few games, we’d start to think, ‘Hey, maybe we’re not as good as we thought we were.’”

Catcher Dan Wilson and closer Kazuhiro Sasaki. Photo by Justin Best/The Herald of Everett, Washington

The Mariners lost more than a few in August and September, and the A’s overtook them for the division lead by winning nine of their final 11 games. The late-season fade forced the Mariners to win their final two games just to reach the postseason as the American League wild-card. team. They beat the Angels 21–9 and 5–2, sending them to Chicago for a first-round series against the White Sox.

Piniella did some of his finest managing in that series.

In Game 1, the Mariners and White Sox took a 4–4 tie into extra innings before Mike Cameron singled to lead off the 10th inning against Chicago closer Keith Foulke. Alex Rodriguez flied to left for the first out and, with the dangerous Edgar Martinez hitting, Foulke made numerous throws to first base to keep Cameron close.

Suddenly, Piniella called time out and walked onto the field, not to argue with an umpire but to talk with his baserunner.

“I’d never in my life seen a manager do that,” Price said. “You see them go out and talk to a pitcher, but never to a baserunner. I didn’t even know it was legal to do that. At first I thought Cameron was injured.”

Piniella met Cameron near the first-base coaches’ box and whispered something into his ear, then walked back to the dugout. Cameron went back to the bag, smiling.

Piniella, famous for knowing opposing personnel as well as his own, had tipped off Cameron on when it would be best to steal.

“He said if the catcher set up outside, it would be a pitch I could run on, so go,” Cameron said. “I mean, the guy calls time out and tells me how to steal a base. Unbelievable.”

Cameron stole the base, and Martinez followed with a two-run homer off Foulke. John Olerud, the next hitter, also homered to give the Mariners a 7–4 lead, and closer Kazuhiro Sasaki finished off the White Sox in the bottom of the 10th to notch the Game 1 victory.

The next night, Paul Abbott limited the White Sox to two runs in 5 ⅔ innings and the Mariners’ bullpen—Arthur Rhodes, Jose Mesa, and Kazuhiro Sasaki—held Chicago hitless over the final 3 ⅓ innings for a 5–2 victory.

With a chance to clinch the series at home, the Mariners started Aaron Sele in Game 3, and he stifled the White Sox on three hits and a run in 7⅓ innings. Chicago starter James Baldwin was nearly as effective, holding the Mariners to three hits and a run in six innings.

With the score tied 1–1, Olerud led off the bottom of the ninth with a wicked smash back to the mound, hitting White Sox reliever Kelly Wunsch in the stomach. Olerud reached second when Wunsch, injured, threw the ball away at first base.

Foulke replaced Wunsch on the mound, and Piniella inserted pinch-runner Rickey Henderson, the aging speedster who’d stolen 31 bases for the Mariners after they signed him in late May. Stan Javier dropped a sacrifice bunt that moved Henderson to third with one out, and the White Sox walked David Bell.

Piniella then sent Carlos Guillen to pinch-hit for catcher Joe Oliver and, like his advice to Cameron that helped win Game 1, the Mariners’ skipper made a call that won the series.

“Carlos, I want you to bunt the ball, and I want you to take it right to Frank Thomas at first base,” Piniella told Guillen before he walked into the on-deck circle. “He can’t throw a lick, and if you get that ball down, we’re going to the American League finals.”

Bench coach John McLaren marveled.

“It was like George Allen designing a play for the Washington Redskins,” McLaren said. “Lou is so good at that.”

Foulke threw a first-pitch fastball but Guillen didn’t bunt. He took a mighty swing and fouled the ball to the backstop.

In the dugout, Piniella was livid.

“Lou turned to me and said, ‘What did we just tell this guy?’” McLaren said. “Lou was really steamed and he kept going on about it. He hadn’t finished his next sentence and I looked up, and there was the most perfect bunt you’ve ever seen. I ran out of the dugout to celebrate, and Lou was still down there talking to himself.”

Just as Piniella had wanted, Guillen pushed a perfect bunt toward Thomas, and Henderson scored the winning run to clinch the series.

End of story? Hardly. Four months later, when the Mariners were taking batting practice during a spring training workout, McLaren had a question for Guillen.

“Carlos, I never asked you this after the game, but do you remember when you bunted to Frank Thomas to win that game?” McLaren asked. “What happened on the pitch before that? Why did you swing?”

“Oh, I just did that on my own,” Guillen said.

McLaren later told that to Piniella, who lost his cool again.

“Lou, forget about it,” McLaren said. “It’s over. We won the game.”

Mariners Lose Their Yankees Weapon

The Mariners had to wait for their next opponent after sweeping the White Sox. The Yankees and A’s took their first-round series to the limit, with the Yankees winning Game 5 to set up a Seattle-New York showdown to determine which team would play in the World Series.

During the four-day break between series, the Mariners scheduled a simulated game for left-handed starter Jamie Moyer. He hadn’t pitched in the White Sox series because of tightness in the back of his shoulder, but the time off allowed him to recover, and he felt good.

Moyer’s return was seen as a big edge for the Mariners if they were to face the left-handed-heavy Yankees lineup. During the regular season, Moyer was 2–0 against the Yankees with a 1.35 earned run average.

On October 7, one day after the Mariners clinched their series over the White Sox, Moyer took the mound for a 60-pitch simulated game. Through those 60 pitches, Mover’s shoulder felt fine, and he clearly was ready to face either the A’s or the Yankees, whichever team won the other series.

Then he decided to throw a 61st pitch in order to work from the other side of the rubber against a left-handed hitter. Backup catcher Chris Widger, a right-handed hitter, turned around and batted left-handed. He said it was the first time he’d stood on that side of the plate since he was in high school.

Moyer then threw a pitch that may have altered the outcome of the Mariners’ next series.

Widger slapped a grounder back to the mound, and the ball skipped off the grass and struck Moyer square on his left knee. It fractured his kneecap and ended his postseason before it started. Moyer was devastated.

“It’s very frustrating,” he said, tears in his eyes and his voice cracking as he met the media. “I still don’t believe it’s over.”

The Mariners, despite going 6–3 against the Yankees in the regular season, knew beating the Yankees would be an immense challenge, and without Moyer they lost a huge edge.

“I’m pretty sure it would have been a different series with him,” center fielder Mike Cameron said. “He’d always done well against the Yankees, and he was the one guy who could neutralize the left-handed bats that they had—Paul O’Neill, David Justice, and Tino Martinez.”

Those three hitters hurt the Mariners in the series. O’Neill batted .250 but had five RBIs in the six games. Martinez hit .320 with a home run. Justice batted .231 but hit two home runs and drove in eight runs.

No blow was bigger for the Yankees than Justice’s three-run homer in the seventh inning of Game 6. The Mariners led 4–3 at the time and were in position to force a deciding Game 7 the next night.

Instead, Justice crushed a pitch from Arthur Rhodes into the upper deck at Yankee Stadium, and the Yankees went on to win 9–7 and clinch the series.