I’ve been tough on Mike Hargrove. Called him humorless. Accused him of possessing a beige personality. Second-guessed him more than the Democrats second-guess President Bush.
I’ve called for his firing a number of times.
Frankly, I’m baffled that the Seattle Mariners suits haven’t found the need to “go in a different direction,” as the saying goes.
Maybe it’s because baseball, more than any other game on the planet, is about patience.
I can barely spell the word.
Yet, in all my ranting about the M’s managerial situation, I have to give it up to Mike Hargrove. Considering where the Mariners have been in the last three years, Hargrove just might be the favorite out of the gate as American League Manager of the Year.
Quit laughing.
After Sunday’s game against the San Diego Padres, the Mariners were seven games above .500. Their team batting average was second in the American League. They’re hanging in there in the AL West, 41/2 games behind the Los Angeles Anaheims of Disneyland.
Roughly a third into the season, the M’s are on a pace to win 88 games this year. Even if they don’t win the division title, they’re 1 1/2 games behind the Detroit Tigers in the race for the AL’s wild card spot in the playoffs.
They’ve done so, despite mostly abysmal starting pitching (the combined ERA hovers just under 6.00). They’ve done so despite a season-long slump from Richie Sexson. They’ve done so despite Felix Hernandez’s prolonged injury bout and the assorted adventures of Jeff Weaver and Horacio Ramirez.
They’ve gotten it done it by line-driving teams to death and with a bullpen that shuts down even the most fearsome lineups in the majors.
If closer J.J. Putz doesn’t score a spot on the AL All-Star team, something’s really, really wrong. And at this stage of the season, reliever Brandon Morrow deserves more than a look as the league’s rookie of the year.
But the truth is that the Mariners are hardly the 1927 Yankees and still, they’re hanging in. In the first two games at San Diego, the M’s staged comeback victories.
Where most had given up on the struggling Weaver, Hargrove gave him some time off on the DL. Weaver came back Saturday and allowed just one earned run in four innings before he had to leave because of a tweaked back.
The Mariners beat teams they’re supposed to beat. They never quit. They scrap and fight and bite until the game’s over.
That’s a reflection on Mike Hargrove. I’ll shut up about him for now.
I won’t, however, shut up about Clay Bennett any time soon.
Despite his pleas that he really is trying to keep the Sonics in Seattle (and blaming that nasty Seattle city council and that cursed state legislature for not letting him have his way), I haven’t seen anything short of Bennett wringing his hands and urging his minions to hitch up the wagons and make an Eastward Ho to Oklahoma City.
Gee, I must have missed Bennett’s careful, thorough consideration of the Muckleshoot Tribe’s plan for a site near Emerald Downs or developer David Sabey’s plan for a site near Renton.
OK, OK. It’s Bennett’s team and he can do what he wants with it. Yet, it’s sad that he appears to ignore the 40 years and millions of dollars basketball fans invested in the team. Remember, the fans didn’t have anything to do with the Sonics’ dismal lease arrangement; prior ownership did.
A living, breathing symbol of Bennett’s disregard for Seattle’s tradition in pro basketball came Friday, with his introduction of 30-year-old Sam Presti as the franchise’s new general manager.
Sitting off to the side was 69-year-old Lenny Wilkens, NBA Hall of Famer and local icon for the best days the Sonics ever had. Yet, underneath the balloons and confetti of Presti’s announced appointment was the certainty that Wilkens’ say in the team’s future is done, that he is removed, that he is as irrelevant as last season’s jockstraps.
Just as, in Bennett’s warped world, Seattle’s pro basketball fans are.
Sports columnist John Sleeper: sleeper@heraldnet.com
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