A perfect ending to the season, and maybe a career

For a kinda/sorta/maybe/not really/I don't know yet/ask me later/got a Magic 8-Ball? goodbye, it was quite touching.

Chants of "One more year!" Chants of "Griffey! Griffey! Griffey!" Standing ovations for all four times Ken Griffey Jr., the greatest of all Mariners, stepped to the plate. And in the eighth inning Sunday, before 32,260 fans at Safeco Field, at 3:22 p.m. in the Year of Bliss, Junior delivered one of his classic, breathtaking moments.

He wept.

He lined a single to center field in his last — at least for now — at-bat and succumbed to the emotions he'd stifled all afternoon. Mariners manager Don Wakamatsu replaced Griffey with Michael Saunders after the hit, and the fans gave their icon one last — at least for now — standing ovation.

Griffey tipped his cap as he walked to the dugout. But the fans continued to cheer. Griffey re-emerged for a curtain call, biting his lower lip to fight the tears.

Twenty-five minutes later, after the Mariners won their season finale 4-3 over the Texas Rangers, there was no stopping the tears.

Junior kept brushing the wet stuff off his cheeks during the happiest postgame celebration ever for a team that finished in third place in its division. He hugged all of his teammates. He joined them as they circled the park and threw gifts to the crowd. Then he exited atop the shoulders of his teammates and grinned the Griffey grin.

"In all the years I've been in this game, I don't know if I've ever been as emotional as when Griffey came off that field and into the clubhouse," Wakamatsu said.

After the game, Griffey admitted this day had been unlike any other in his career. He was nervous. He didn't want to be too emotional to do his job.

Maybe that's why Griffey, normally slow to put on his uniform before the game, was dressed 90 minutes before the first pitch. At the plate, he stepped out of the batter's box a few times because, as he explained later, "I just wanted to make sure I could breathe."

He took enough breaths to finish 1 for 4. So now comes the difficult question: Was that it?

"You never know," he said softly at his locker. "If this is going to be the last one, it's tough."

Asked if he wants to come back, he said "um, yeah" before veering off into an explanation that he needs to consider what's best for his family and allow the Mariners time to figure out what's best for the team.

So it figures the reticent superstar would enter the offseason without offering much clarity on his future. Junior is a different kind of legend. He would be fine exiting in this manner, to a warm applause from a crowd uncertain whether it just witnessed history or another season finale. He doesn't need maximum adoration.

"I don't really think about those things," Griffey said of departing in lavish fashion. "That's not one of those things that's really that important. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. I'm not the egomaniac that wants everybody to recognize. It's more important for other people to talk about you than for you to talk about yourself."

My guess is we haven't seen the last of Griffey. He's having too much fun. But the Mariners face a difficult decision if he follows his heart. Take away all the emotions Griffey inspires, all the nostalgia, and he's a soon-to-be 40-year-old who hit .214 this season and drove in only 57 runs.

He had a knee that would swell even though he barely played the outfield. I want to see him return, most of you want to see him return, but for the Mariners, this won't be an easy yes. In professional sports, managing with the heart can be a dangerous tactic. Ultimately, Griffey's return might depend on whether general manager Jack Zduriencik can acquire significant pieces so that Griffey is a smaller part of the equation (not a clean-up hitter, maybe not an everyday player). And if that happens, will Griffey want to play in such a complementary role?

Those are tough issues, but let's worry about them later. Now, it's time to reflect on a wonderful comeback season that nothing — not age, not aches, not slippage — could diminish.

"I don't know if I'll ever have the opportunity to have a player who enjoys playing the game as much as he does," Wakamatsu said of Junior. "He's fun. He's infectious to his teammates. He's such a breath of fresh air."

He's living a fantasy, back in the city where he made his name, atop his teammates' shoulders, waving at people who clap every time they see his face.

So the best story of the 2009 Seattle sports year ends happily. What now? Who cares? Let the tears dry first.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com, Twitter: @Jerry_Brewer