Rarely does a sports celebration turn into a sports discombobulation simultaneously. This past weekend, the Mariners pulled off the dubious feat, finding a fresh frontier in a half-century of futility.
Long in the planning, the 50-year anniversary event had all the nostalgic feels that perhaps no other major pro sports franchise in the city knows how to evoke so dreamily. A club-created panel identified their 50 greatest players, and 44 attended the event Saturday evening, including a surprising eight from the current team. Presented with custom letterman’s leather jackets, the players were brought out one by one, then individually spaced in the infield for most of the event so fans could see them clearly.
The four statue-worthy players—Ken Griffey Jr., Edgar Martinez, Ichiro Suzuki and Randy Johnson—were brought in last from a center field entrance. In the roaring crowd, mistiness gave way to a waterfall when former managerial hero Lou Piniella emerged from the third-base side to throw out the ceremonial first pitch to current manager Dan Wilson, also one of the nifty 50. Ta-damn-da.
Speeches were concise, including news from CEO John Stanton that the front office voted unanimously to induct broadcaster Rick Rizzs into the club’s Hall of Fame. Retiring this year after 41 seasons, Rizzs teared up at perhaps the evening’s most robust crowd response.
Another moment brought up the large, unaddressed matter on the minds of the less sentimental: The difficulty in sustaining quality baseball. Alvin Davis, the 1984 American League Rookie of the Year and long known as Mr. Mariner, was the lone member of the 50 to address the gathering. His lengthy loyalty to the club gave him the standing to speak bluntly.
“We as a franchise have been doubted for 50 years,” Davis said, looking into the home dugout. “Prove them wrong.”
The doubt was righteous: 50 years without a World Series appearance—a fact that is a discordant thrum in the background of every achievement—the lone MLB franchise so vexed. Just 19 seasons with a winning record, only six of which included playoffs, the Mariners were the slowest team to a winning mark (83-79 in 1991, the 15th season) in the modern history of U.S. pro sports.
However sincere and worthy Davis’s command was, it has yet to take hold. The Mariners lost the anniversary celebration game, 3-2. As they did Friday (2-1) and Sunday (4-1), all against Tampa Bay, they completed a 3-6 homestand and fell to a season-worst 56-63.
These days, getting swept by the Rays isn’t so bad. At 70-46, they have the American League’s best record, and lead the colossal Yankees by five games in the AL East. Yet the Rays’ success is hardly a balm for Seattle. Per Spotrac, the Rays are spending $107M on payroll, ranking 23rd in MLB. The Mariners are 16th, at $165M. The Yanks are third, at $294M.
You may have forgotten the Rays twice made the World Series, in 2008 (lost to the Phillies) and 2020 (lost to the Dodgers). Given their lousy stadium and poor fan support, the Rays may be MLB’s most bedraggled franchise. But they play a nice brand of ball.
Before this essay turns into another grumble about a happy-to-be-here ownership, Davis’s command addressed the matter of the decaying 2026 season to players. In mid-August, the responsibility no longer rests with president Jerry Dipoto, general manager Justin Hollander or even field manager Dan Wilson. The trade deadline passed with modest upticks: outfielder Taylor Ward and righty reliever Seranthony Dominguez, plus a salary dump of starting pitcher Luis Castillo.
In 119 games, the Mariners have scored 462 runs, the lowest total in baseball. No strategic change, fiery speech, or extra batting practice will fix that. It’s a matter of each hitter recalling how he performed best and replicating that performance. As simple as that is to write, athletes have struggled with it forever.
Before the Saturday events, Griffey was casually chatting with media members on the field next to the first base dugout. As the group dwindled, I walked over and asked him what he was doing here, since tonight was about the 50 greatest Mariners writers.
“Then what are you doing here?” he said, grinning. Touche.
We got around to talking about Cal Raleigh. The Mariners catcher has followed perhaps the greatest season for a catcher in MLB history with a 2026 season of profound mediocrity. A right-side oblique strain injury cost him more than a month of playing time. He seems past the injury but is hitting .161 with 12 homers, 43 RBI and .571 OPS. His 2025 fWAR of 9.1 is down to 0.4.
Griffey looked down, scuffing the dirt.
“It’s in his head,” he said quietly. “We’ve all been there.”
In this case, “we” is every quality major league hitter, and more broadly, premium athletes in most sports. Even amid All-Star seasons, Griffey endured prolonged slumps. Raleigh is falling out of an extraordinary emotional whirlwind — from a quiet, above-average major leaguer to seeing his name abruptly in the same sentence as Ruth, Mantle, Maris, Bench and Bonds. There is no script for managing such abrupt acclaim, even for someone as well-balanced as Raleigh, 29, seems to be.
Opponents feared him, walking him intentionally 17 times. This season? None. No need for a Raleigh game plan. Teammates, coaches and fans are all pulling for him, but they have no more answers than sportswriters, or even Griffey, who simply shrugged.
Obviously, the Mariners’ seasonal plight is more than just one slumping player. Lots of dudes are underperforming. The one gift from the baseball gods is a mediocre AL West. A year ago the Mariners, from Sept. 6 to Sept. 25, won 17 of 18 games to claim the division title. This year, The Dodgers have lost seven in a row, their longest streak in nine seasons. The Yankees, who host the Mariners for three games beginning last night, are 4-4 in August, still longing for the return of injured sluggers Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton.
Time remains for a reversal of fortunes, not solely in Raleigh’s head. As Davis cajoled: Prove them wrong. Imagine what the Mariners’ marketers might do with a World Series parade.
Call it the Raleigh Rally. You’re welcome.
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