A sad day for Boone, despite lack of surprise

The tears kept coming. Each hug with each player, each coach, each broadcaster, trainer and clubhouse attendant brought more tears.

Bret Boone sat in the same seat he has occupied since his 2001 return to the Mariners and quietly laughed and cried with Jeff Nelson and Adrian Beltre and Dave Hansen. For brief moments, he sat alone, leaning on his left hand, wiping away the insistent tears.

"This is embarrassing," Boone said later, after the clubhouse had emptied. "I feel like a baby. ... I'm supposed to be a tough guy. How cool, the cocky, crying guy. ... Boone doesn't cry. He doesn't cry in public."

People kept streaming through the Mariners clubhouse to say goodbye.

Players, many of them dressed in their traveling sport coats, stood like guests in a formal reception line, waiting to hug him and heartily slap him on the back.

An hour after the game, Boone, in a blue Mariners T-shirt and shorts, shared stories with Ron Villone, Ryan Franklin and Richie Sexson before those ex-teammates boarded the bus for the airport and another road trip.

Mike Morse handed Boone a beer — one last assist for the final shortstop to play alongside Boone in Seattle.

"For a veteran guy, he did a lot for me," the rookie Morse said after the Mariners' 2-1 win over Texas. "He saw little stuff here and there in my game that I could fix. I'm going to miss playing with him. But I can always say that I turned a double play with Bret Boone.

"His talent was so amazing. He would tell me on a double play, "Just get me the ball. You get the ball and just give it to me, and I'll turn it.' That confidence he has was amazing. It was a treat to play with him."

In the best of times, in 2001 and 2002, he was the life at the back of the Mariners' clubhouse and the pop in the middle of its order.

He was "The Boone." He wore T-shirts humorously proclaiming his greatness. His presence was so large he needed three lockers to house his ego and his stuff.

He was a free spirit and a free swinger.

Boone practically would jump out of his cleats to hit a letter-high 1-0 fastball.

He was unique. A second baseman with power. And a power hitter with a gold glove.

But one going-nowhere season in Seattle has given way to another, and yesterday the Mariners, 12 games below .500 and 15 ½ games out of first, made a move that felt equal parts inevitable and sad.

After 4 ½ seasons of the best second base Seattle has seen, Boone was designated for assignment, giving the Mariners 10 days to make a trade before he becomes a free agent.

"It's a pretty sad day for me," said Boone, who paused often to wipe away tears during his postgame meeting with the media.

The power numbers have dropped precipitously. In 74 games this season he had seven home runs and 34 runs batted in. And after hitting only .251 last season, his average has dipped to .231.

And because the Mariners have Jose Lopez, a 21-year-old second baseman they believe is ready to play every day, it was time for 36-year-old Boone to go.

But that knowledge didn't make the day easier for anyone who has been around him during this best run of his big-league career.

"A big part of that 116-win season [of 2001] was having Bret as an anchor," catcher Dan Wilson said. "He's led this club, and it's going to be a tough loss, there's no doubt about it."

After beginning his career in Seattle, Boone returned in 2001, bigger and stronger and had the best offensive year of any second baseman in the game — ever. He hit .331 with 37 home runs and 141 RBI.

He was one of the most popular Mariners on a most popular team. He played with a swagger, disdainfully flipping his bat when he knew he'd hit one out.

He was arrogant and full of himself and a pure delight to be around. He was a standup guy who never hid and never made excuses for his slumps.

"It's a shocking thing," said Scott Spiezio. "We knew there were thoughts about him being traded and things like that, but you just never think it's going to happen. It's really sad. He's a leader on and off the field and I think this team's really going to miss him."

In his second tour with the Mariners, spanning 4 ½ seasons, Boone hit 127 home runs and drove in 482 runs.

"I'm really happy because I think the future's going to be good," Boone said. "But this is something I've never gone through. It's a fact of life. The business of baseball. It happens. I've loved playing here. It's been awesome. This is kind of my place. I love this place."

But time passes.

"A week ago, I was telling some of my teammates, I love this place and a lot of the things this team has done have been unbelievable, but it's time for me to go," he said. "I just think it's time. You can just feel it. It's hard to explain, but my gut has been telling me it's time for me to go. People say I'm old, but I don't buy that. It's a mechanical thing.

"I was a little shocked at how it went down. It was kind of a different feeling for me. There was no anger. ... I think it's going to be good in the future to get a fresh start somewhere."

Along the sun-splashed right-field foul line before yesterday's game, Morse wrapped Lopez in a head lock and whispered in his ear, "Let's go. Let's go."

Time passes and gives birth to a new double-play combination. It's the business of baseball.

Still, it is sad every time it happens.

Steve Kelley: 206-464-2176 or skelley@seattletimes.com.