Ichiro is still doing it his way, 2,000 hits later

ANAHEIM, Calif. — On the day of his 2,000th major league hit, Ichiro could not help but revisit some additional history that had been less than kind.

Asked about the significance of the milestone, he replied: "For me personally, it's not a big surprise. But looking back to when I was first signed by the Mariners and went to spring training my very first year, and I was kind of criticized by the media, when I look back to that moment, there is meaning now."

Rather than change a style so contrary to the baseball vogue in 2001, Ichiro plowed ahead and fought back an urge to lash out at his critics. So, when FSN television host Brad Adam, standing by Ichiro's locker on Sunday, jokingly asked whether the newest member of baseball's 2,000 hits club wanted to criticize him now, Ichiro laughed and pointed out that Adam had not been around in 2001.

And just as some of the faces Ichiro sees daily are different from those nine seasons ago, the very essence of the game and its definition of individual success have also changed. Ichiro had the misfortune of launching his career at the height of the Steroids Era, when home runs were the common trait of superstars.

Even those trying to be more progressive in their statistical analysis often brought up the newfangled, power-tilted, on-base-plus slugging percentage (OPS) stat in criticizing the selection of Ichiro as that year's AL most valuable player. Baseball in those days tolerated a singles hitter like Tony Gwynn, so long as he was lining the ball into the outfield rather than legging out infield hits.

Things haven't completely changed in that regard, with home-run power still commanding a premium in salary. But the fall from public grace of sluggers Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Rafael Palmeiro, and, to a lesser extent, Jason Giambi and Alex Rodriguez — all top stars when Ichiro broke in — has caused some to expand their definition of what it takes to be a baseball great.

These days, Dustin Pedroia, who hit 17 home runs and posted a mid-800s OPS for the Red Sox last season, is the reigning American League MVP. The top position player chosen in June's amateur draft, Mariners pick Dustin Ackley, is projected to be a singles and doubles hitter.

The renewed focus on defense as an undervalued commodity has also emphasized the other side of Ichiro's game, where the speed that earned his 452 "cheap" infield hits also helps him track down line drives to the gap.

"He's a special player, he's got so many weapons," Mariners manager Don Wakamatsu said. "He can use the whole field, he can hit a home run now and then. Just a special player."

And milestones like the 2,000th hit, coming after Ichiro had already notched 1,278 in Japan, bring the entire package into perspective. As will Ichiro's next feat, almost certain to come this week, which will see him collect the five hits needed to reach 200 for a record ninth consecutive season.

"It's such a feat," Wakamatsu said of the 2,000-hit milestone and others within sight. "And just his ability to play every day over the years and make the adjustment from Japanese baseball to here as well as anybody is maybe going to. He's just a special player and I know many guys in that dugout feel the same way."

For Wakamatsu, what stands out is Ichiro's ability to keep collecting hits even without drawing walks. Back in 2001, a big concern mentioned often by present and former players, managers and, yes, the media, was that Ichiro would never maintain the hits needed to keep his on-base percentage where a good leadoff hitter should.

And yet, nine seasons later, his lifetime OBP of .378 would put him near the upper echelon of this year's best AL leadoff men — where five players, Ichiro included, are positioned between .380 and .401 (Ichiro is at .392).

Maintaining numbers like those over a prolonged period is something few hitters, power or otherwise, have done. And while the debate rages about Hall of Fame guideposts like 500 career home runs, in light of steroids revelations, the sanctity of a 3,000-hit career remains intact.

Ichiro will reach his 3,000th hit by the 2014 season at age 40 if he continues on this current pace.

"It's just his versatility," Wakamatsu said. "Like I said, he can hit home runs now and then, he can go to all fields and he can get a lot of infield hits. He puts a lot of pressure on an opposing team."

And that pressure has continued this year, with his 54 infield singles being Ichiro's second-highest total since 63 in 2001. And that's come at a time when his slugging percentage of .463 is the highest he has ever posted.

Ichiro will always have his detractors, including some players who have teamed with him. He isn't perfect, has made a handful of mistakes this season and has been accused in the past of "selfishness" in pursuit of hit totals at the expense of team goals.

Much of that is rooted in Ichiro's belief that if he takes care of his business first and maximizes his individual potential, the team will benefit most. And history is littered with examples of Hall of Fame caliber players who could charitably be described as somewhat selfish.

Ichiro was never spotted playing cards in the clubhouse during a playoff game as was Rickey Henderson. He never got himself suspended for charging into the stands to beat up a heckler with no hands to fight back with, as did Ty Cobb. Nor did he bet in games involving his own team, like Pete Rose. Even Al Simmons, the guy Ichiro just finished second to in the fastest race to 2,000 hits, wasn't particularly liked by his teammates.

Whether the Mariners find the right mix of players to maximize the value of Ichiro's style and win a championship remains to be seen. They never did for Ken Griffey Jr., but that relationship seems to have turned out fine.

In Ichiro's case, however, the imperfections get singled out more. And perhaps that's the greatest compliment that can be paid to his time in the majors: the negatives get focused on because he's made the positives seem so routine they get taken for granted.

"He can just flat-out hit," Griffey said. "There's just nothing he can't do with a bat. From the top of that helmet to a ball bouncing, he can just swing it."

Griffey suggests the key to Ichiro's maintained excellence has been knowing what he does well, what it takes each season to get there, and nobody trying to talk him into changing.

"I wouldn't talk to him," Griffey said.

And it's doubtful anyone will from here on. He didn't listen in 2001 and now, 2,000 hits later in a changing baseball landscape, Ichiro has bought the leverage to keep doing things his way.

Geoff Baker: 206-464-8286 or gbaker@seattletimes.com.

Read his daily blog at www.seattletimes.com/Mariners