Ken Griffey Jr.'s return could be a letdown rather than a triumph

It's a wonderful concept, it really is.

Ken Griffey Jr. returning to Seattle to ride out his twilight years in a wave of adulation would provide glorious closure for the greatest Mariner of them all.

Theoretically.

The problem is that the gap between concept and reality has the potential to be as gaping as the Mariners' deficit in the AL West.

This is real life, not a fairy tale. A Griffey homecoming could end up an anti-climactic letdown just as easily as it could be a triumphant valediction for a homegrown Hall of Famer.

Mind you, I think it's going to happen. Griffey to Seattle is starting to have the distinct feel of inevitability, if all the rumblings in the baseball world are true. The fact that the Mariners had one of Bill Bavasi's top advisers, Duane Shaffer, in New York over the weekend to reportedly watch Griffey at Shea Stadium is just more fuel to a burgeoning fire.

The momentum started to build last June, when Griffey was bowled over by his wildly appreciative reception at Safeco Field, and it hasn't stopped since. Griffey told FSN at the time that he wanted to retire as a Mariner. His comments on the topic since — to The Seattle Times during spring training, and to USA Today last week — have been along the same lines.

The Reds, understandably, want to see Griffey belt his 600th homer in a Cincinnati uniform — he has been stuck on 597 since April 23 — but once it happens, the wheels could start to turn quickly.

Mariners president Chuck Armstrong, as quoted in the USA Today article, certainly did nothing to quell the rumors. The organization quickly backed off a bit, but it's hard to spin, "He was born a Mariner. And I'd like to see him finish up as a Mariner," in too many directions.

Many, if not most, fans feel exactly the same way, and understandably so. Griffey's return would result in tremendous initial excitement. He would undoubtedly put butts in the seats, not an insignificant consideration for a team that is tanking on the field and at the box office thus far in '08.

I don't want to be a killjoy, because a large part of me really likes the idea of a Griffey return. He's unquestionably a baseball immortal, one who appears to have done it cleanly and with great integrity in an era when the opposite mode often prevailed. And he remains a Seattle icon.

Let's just call it playing the devil's advocate. Here are some potential pitfalls to work through:

1. Just how much does Griffey have left to offer, at age 38? Anyone expecting vintage Junior is likely to be sorely disappointed. Injuries and age have left him a shadow of his old self, and his 2008 numbers, (.250, four homers, 18 RBI, .716 OPS) are not impressive.

That's not to say Griffey wouldn't be revitalized by a return to Seattle, at a ballpark that was once built with his stroke in mind. His old stroke, anyway.

2. Where will he play? If the M's really want to go nostalgic, they'd put Griffey in center. But that would be foolish, with Ichiro having settled in as one of the best defensive center fielders in baseball, and Griffey no longer possessing anything close to his old range after a series of debilitating leg injuries.

He could stay in right, his position in Cincinnati the past two seasons, which would necessitate moving Wladimir Balentien or Raul Ibanez to designated hitter. Or Griffey himself could go to DH, an idea that he has always resisted. Some big decisions and upheaval no matter which way you go.

3. What would it cost to get Griffey? That price is double-edged, because unlike Frank Thomas, who was available to them last month, the Mariners would have to pay in both players and salary.

Griffey is earning $12.5 million this season, the last year of the nine-year, $116.5 million contract he signed after the Reds acquired him from Seattle after the 1999 season. Some think Griffey would make any trade conditional on his new team picking up his $16.5 million option for 2009 — a deal-breaker for the Mariners, one would hope.

Griffey, don't forget, owns complete trade-veto rights, just as he did when he orchestrated his trade to Cincinnati because he wanted to be closer to his family.

Griffey still has school-age kids, a family that has actually grown by one son since he joined the Reds. He still maintains his permanent residence in Orlando, which at last check is still as far away from Seattle as it was in 1999.

Griffey, meanwhile, has been steadfast in stating his desire to play in a World Series before his career is through. And last we checked, joining a last-place team, one with the worst record in the American League, might not be Griffey's ticket to the promised land.

Of course, if Griffey's arrival, backed by a magical revival of his legendary bat, is what spurs a Seattle sprint back into the playoffs and beyond, what a wonderfully dramatic and touching story line it would be.

It's a sweet notion, anyway.

Larry Stone: 206-464-3146 or lstone@seattletimes.com