Latest comeback proves how much Ken Griffey Jr. loves baseball

So that misty-eyed moment back in October really was a mere quasi-ending.

Ken Griffey Jr. is back, down from the shoulders of his teammates, unashamed that he might become the most renowned bench player in sports.

Some will laugh at him. Some will frown and declare that he's making a mockery of his stellar career by staying way too long. Griffey will shrug and just have fun.

It's what he knows. It's all he knows. The son of a baseball lifer, he's been in a clubhouse basically since diapers. His father played until age 41, and now Junior will be a major-leaguer at 40. It's not exactly a glamorous 40/40 club, but the Griffeys sure do love their baseball.

The 2010 season will be the 38th consecutive year that either Ken Sr. or Jr. has been on a major-league roster. The last time we were Griffey-less was 1972. If baseball were played with an orange, they would've squeezed almost every drop of vitamin C out of that sucker.

But Junior thinks he has a little juice left.

More than that, however, he needs the game more than he needs his reputation. Think about what he's doing. By returning to the Mariners with an understanding that there are no promises about his role, Griffey is willing to be Ryan Langerhans, basically.

After all that he's done — hitting 630 home runs, winning 10 Gold Gloves, dominating his era of baseball — he cares so much about just being on a team, just being a big-leaguer, that he'll put more strain on his balky left knee simply for the camaraderie.

He'll likely ride the pine so that a to-be-determined player who wouldn't have been able to hold Griffey's Nike cleats during his prime can give his team — his team — a better chance to win.

It's one of the most unlikely stories in sports. Superstars just don't do this. They quit well before it gets to this point. They love their reputation more than they love the game.

Griffey hasn't had a Griffey-like season since he hit 30 homers and drove in 93 runs in 2007. The past two seasons, he has experienced the rapid decline that occurs when great players are done. Still, he wants to play.

He's not chasing a championship, either. The Mariners finished 85-77 last season, but they're a long way from beating the Yankees or Phillies.

What's he playing for? He's playing to play. He's playing to use his baseball knowledge and leadership to help the Mariners expedite their rebuilding. Some would argue that he's stunting their growth by taking a roster spot and stealing at-bats from the younger players, but until the Mariners clearly have a better option, that's a moot point. Griffey might have hit only .214 in 117 games last season, but he did more good than harm.

"I think all of us realize what Ken meant to the ballclub last year, his contributions on and off the field, in the clubhouse, his leadership," Mariners general manager Jack Zduriencik said while announcing Junior's new one-year contract. "It was pretty special. He's excited about being back."

The deal came together quickly. Zduriencik chose his words carefully when he called the signing "part of the puzzle." Let me translate. That's Zduriencik for, "Hey, don't think we're content to force Griffey into the lineup even if he isn't producing. We have bigger plans, but since this is a huge public deal, it was best to get it out of the way."

It shouldn't be a problem that the Mariners sealed this deal so soon. They haven't backed themselves into a corner. They can still look for a better designated hitter. Now they get to move on knowing that they've got a Hall of Fame fallback option in place.

In addition, they showed Griffey the proper respect by not leaving him hanging.

"Peace of mind is something he has," Zduriencik said. "At the end of the year, he said, 'It's your decision. If you want me back, I want to come back.' That was a driving force — we wanted him back. It's not a guessing game. He knows where he's going to be. That's a real positive about having it done so soon."

Selfishly, there's a part of all of us who want to see him end his career in the most glorious manner possible. It's hard to watch an idol get old and lose his skills. But that's when you learn the most about them.

The best Griffey memories are frozen. You will never forget them. And 10 years from now, when he's 50 and retired and immortalized in Cooperstown, you'll barely remember that he stayed way too long. His greatness is too entrenched.

So let Griffey keep squeezing that orange.

He needs to do this.

He loves playing baseball more than he loves being a baseball star. It's an endearing postscript to his career.

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