All Griffey, All the Time

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The story of the Mariners' off-season has been not the long overdue arrival of apparently competent general management, but rather the ownership's calculated, emotionally manipulative pursuit of Ken Griffey, Jr.

For the last half-decade or so, the Ms have been baseball's equivalent of Grey's Anatomy--tired, rote, and trying to survive by tugging at suckers' heartstrings. (It's worth noting that Grey's Anatomy has been bringing back a former star as well.)

Naturally, as a result of the Griffey rumors, the local sports blogosphere has been popping, providing an excellent guide to The Kid's inevitable return.

First, one should be familiar with the storylines that will dominate Griffey coverage (Our favorite: Familiar smile brings light to a dark clubhouse). But one shouldn't forget Griffey's 1999 departure machinations (his dad said Junior isn't worth Pokey Reese?), for which the city has mysteriously forgiven him, while continuing to hate A-Rod.

Of course, Griffey's return is all about money, but if we're going to cash in on nostalgia, why not go all the way? (Highlight: The Motherfucking Pirate Ship in Centerfield.)

Really, though, how long can nostalgia pay, and what will ownership do if Griffey sucks, which is a distinct possibility? Finally, whatever you do, Mariners, don't play him in the outfield--at this point, he's worse than Ibanez.

 
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