Now a National, Snelling still seeking the right fit

VIERA, Fla. -- As he prepared for the great unknown that awaited him in his post-Mariners life with the Washington Nationals, Chris Snelling fleetingly pondered a way to make an indelible first impression.

"I actually thought about coming here and acting like Steve Irwin, putting on the Australian accent real thick," he said, smiling in the Nationals clubhouse among 60 or so teammates who still remain largely strangers.

"You know, act like I didn't know what I was doing. Hitting a ground ball in batting practice and running to third."

As hilarious as that scenario would have been -- almost worth the backlash just to see general manager Jim Bowden's face -- Snelling wisely decided against it.

"That wouldn't have been very professional," he pointed out.

Instead, Snelling is laying low. When I found him here Friday, he was working diligently on a crossword puzzle at his locker. After eight years in the Mariners organization, marked by batting surges that put him on the brink of a major-league job and frustrating injuries that pushed him away from it, he has little clue what is in store for him.

Snelling is one of five Washington outfielders vying for what might turn out to be only four jobs. If so, it doesn't bode well, because it appears Austin Kearns is set in right, Nook Logan in center and Ryan Church in left. Manager Manny Acta said Friday of Alex Escobar, "If he's healthy, he's on our team."

Funny, those same fateful words "if he's healthy" could tell the story of Snelling's Seattle career, which ended in mid-December when he was traded with Emiliano Fruto to the Nationals for Jose Vidro.

More often than not, Snelling wasn't. Healthy, that is. Whenever he was on the verge of a breakthrough, something freaky would happen. The list, which includes various wrist, thumb, hand and shoulder maladies as well as seven surgeries on his left knee, is familiar to every Mariners fan -- especially the army of Snelling zealots who clamored for him to be given a regular job.

It's hard not to look back at Snelling's Mariners tenure and wonder where he would be now, at age 25 ("I feel old," he said), had he not been so injury cursed.

Would he already have a batting title or two, as Lou Piniella always felt he had the potential to do? Would his remarkable batting eye and aggressive style have made him a perennial All-Star, or at least an established regular, with a commensurate paycheck?

Snelling doesn't want to go there. Too painful -- in the emotional sense, not in the writhing-on-the-ground sense.

"If I think about what could have happened if I had stayed healthy, then I'd drive myself insane," he said.

Last year brought a 96-at-bat showcase in August and September, but it wasn't vintage Snelling. He hit .250 (after a .216 mark in 69 games at Class AAA Tacoma), though his on-base percentage was a solid .360.

Snelling won't say it, but it's clear his left knee still wasn't quite right -- and might never be.

"I had a disappointing year last year personally," he said. "I could make excuses for it, but I'm not going to. I learned from it. I don't think I got overmatched, but I think I could have done better."

After the season, Snelling went home to Australia, as he always does, then returned to his stateside home in Peoria, Ariz., to prepare for the season. To his shock, that season would be with the Nationals, not the Mariners.

"I actually found out watching ESPN," he said. "I was surprised, but I guess that's the business part of game. It didn't matter what team I was going to. It was the fact I got traded, and I'm not going to be with the Mariners anymore. I grew up with that organization."

Snelling remains in regular contact with many members of the Seattle organization. "Mainly guys you wouldn't know, guys from the minor leagues," he said. "I met a lot of great people in that organization. But I'm not going to miss them because I continue talking to them."

The Mariners, he added, "were like family to me. I learned a lot. I'm grateful for every opportunity they gave me. Unfortunately, I just couldn't stay healthy."

That's already become a theme with the Nationals. Here's Bowden's assessment of his new acquisition:

"We like Chris Snelling a lot. He's a hard-nosed guy who plays the game right. He's a young player that's always been hurt. Can we keep him healthy? I don't know that. I know he's got the potential if he does. He's always had a high OBP. He's never been given a chance."

Will that opportunity come with the Nats? The next six weeks will provide the answer. Snelling says he thrives on the uncertainty.

"It kind of keeps you on your toes, and makes you not take things for granted," he said. "I like that part of it."

Snelling could be spending his summer in D.C., if they decide to keep five outfielders or one of the four other candidates gets hurt; in Columbus, Ohio, where the Nationals' Class AAA team resides; or even with another major-league team, because he is out of minor-league options.

Or, if past form holds, Snelling could start on the disabled list, which contrary to popular belief doesn't stand for Doyle's Landing.

"Doyle", as all Snelling aficionados are well aware, is his code name on the Web site USSMariner.com, designated after his middle name and designed to ward off his bad injury karma.

Snelling is aware, and appreciates, that he had a following of Mariners fans convinced the organization didn't fully recognize his abilities.

"People are constantly telling me this," he said. "I think it's funny. I'm grateful that people obviously care. That's always good."

If all goes well for Snelling with the Nationals -- no broken bones, and his long-awaited chance to see what he can do on an extended basis in the majors -- then maybe the Cult of Doyle will relocate to the nation's capital.

If not, well, crikey, he could always try the Steve Irwin gambit.

Larry Stone: 206-423-0617 or lstone@seattletimes.com