To this point I haven’t written much about my time at the M’s. There’s a few reasons behind that.
For one, it feels kinda corny—it was four seasons four years ago. Second, I’m not going to talk out of school. It informs my perspective consistently, yeah, but grousing on anything distasteful would be tacky and unprofessional.
That isn’t really going to change. But I’ve decided I may mix in the occasional harmless anecdote. It’s mostly for me, since I figure it’ll be nice to have a record to look back on as the years pass. Maybe you’ll find it entertaining or insightful or whatever it ends up being.
So, Mitch Haniger.
This isn’t a post making the case for Mitch to be a Mariners Hall of Famer. “Mariners Hall of Famer Mitch Haniger” is just a phrase I like saying. I’ve heard you don’t want to put anything out into the universe that you don’t want to have happen, so this is probably the opposite.
An attempt at manifestation, perhaps.
The Mariners traded for Mitch Haniger on one of my favorite days of the year. It was the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving, 2017.
Thanksgiving rules—it’s always a guaranteed four days off, there are no presents and it’s mostly living gluttonously and relaxing with your family. I love that feeling leaving work on Wednesday. I went right from the ballpark to the ferry, set for four days of nothing at my childhood home.
It was on the boat to Bainbridge that news first broke. When I say news broke, I can’t remember if it was actually public or if that was when we got the last-second heads up from PR that the move was going down, but my boss (the only other full-time digital employee) said he’d take the harder stuff while I was on the move.
He knocked out, like, probably a Photoshop and a Mariners Mail while I tweeted random notes and quotes from the press release while posted up at Bainbridge Alehouse, where I was meeting my parents.
And as I worked my way through the move, just the same way I do now—quickly opening FanGraphs, checking lines—you started to see, in the trade that best underscored the strategy, the potential for the Mariners to pick up an otherwise overlooked talent.
Sure, Jean Segura was the big name in—to go with the big names (Ketel Marte and Taijuan Walker) going out—but a narrative quickly developed where this was actually not The Jean Segura Trade and more The Mitch Haniger Trade.
I think that’s why I’ve always been a big Mitch Haniger guy, just how this went down and then played out.
I joined the M’s late in the pre-2016 offseason so this was my first time working a big move—and a move that perfectly fit a story we’d been telling, about the “Control the Zone” philosophy.
Plus, it’s fun to root for a good story, the diamond in the rough. It’s the best when these guys become the dudes you dream on them being.
Mitch did that.
When I set out to write this post, I was going to make it short and only hit on two off-field stories, but we’ll tack on one more. Either way, when I think of Mitch Haniger, I think first of two specific times.
So, it’s hard to say what the best experience was at the Mariners, because there were a lot of good ones and plenty of ways to define “best,” but the trip to Tokyo is in the top three no matter what.
It was so good I still wonder how it happened. We flew on the same plane as the players, same outrageously comfortable seating setup. We got a real nice stipend from MLB. And then, we also had just an unreal level of access.
Jerry, Scott and crew had always been good on this front but, because of the way the Tokyo Dome was set up combined with us having some meaningless exhibition games before the two official ones, we were able to work out of the clubhouse during those two contests against the Yomiuri Giants.
Because those were just exhibition games, they weren’t being aired by anyone stateside—so it was almost impossible to get, clip and share highlights. That is, unless you were working right by the video guy, who was tapped into the Japanese broadcast.
As the games progressed, we’d be reviewing quick highlights and exporting them, immediately hopping out of the way when the guys wanted to watch tape for, you know, their job. But it was cool to be kind of in the mix.
You might remember this.
This was from us back in a corner of, if I remember right, maybe the training room. Or a small room next to that.
Anyway, like I said above, we’d always jump out of the way immediately if a player so much as looked in our direction with the potential of wanting to watch tape.
What I remember about this home run—and it could’ve been another he hit next day if I’m being honest—was that Hanny hits the bomb, gets his dugout high fives and, seemingly without breaking stride, works his way back to the video monitors.
I jumped out of the way, this dude going from on the TV to directly behind me in seconds, but that starts to put a pin in the type of ball player Mitch is.
He is meticulous. He’s constantly working to get better, to refine his swing and his approach, using all the tools he can to get better. In the era of launch angle and plate discipline and exit velo, Mitch feels like a bit of an OG.
The other off-field moment that comes to mind has a similar theme.
I don’t have any idea what year it was exactly. Obviously not 2016, but where it was in the following three, I’m not sure.
But what I do remember was that I needed a Mitch Haniger autographed baseball and I did not have a Mitch Haniger autographed baseball. With maybe 40 minutes to first pitch before a game.
It could’ve been one of two things.
One, I was in charge of what are called “Check-In Offers” for the Ballpark App. You’re Xth to check in, you get a prize—provided I got the prize down to Guest Services in time. There is a chance I missed this one.
But I feel like I wouldn’t screw up this bad, not only not getting a ball down there but also committing a ball we didn’t have (Marketing has an allotment to use as needed).
As I settled more into my role, I realized I had a lot of power to make some special stuff happen to people who could use it. Like, for a short bit there, hooking folks up with on-field BP passes was as simple as writing on a paper lanyard at a time when we had space and I had time to chaperone them.
In my mind, I’m going to say I saw someone in the Twitter mentions who was making a rare trip to the ballpark or something and was deeply obsessed with Mitch Haniger.
Again, needed a signed baseball, did not have one.
You were not supposed to go in the clubhouse after BP. Especially not anytime close to game time. That is the players’ space.
But I did need that ball. I asked my boss, who winced in a very justifiable “I’m not gonna say you can and have it be on me of it goes sideways” kind of way. It was my call. And I knew Mitch.
I took the stairs down to the tunnel, I jogged to the clubhouse door and I crept in carefully.
You can probably guess where Mitch was. In the film room. Getting locked in.
Every player uses this pregame time a little differently—some guys listen to music, some dudes nap, some guys probably eat a little. Just because a player watches film doesn’t mean he does it better than other guys.
He just does it differently. And that’s Mitch.
Blue light shone off his face from the screens as I meagerly bumbled my way through the request.
“Absolutely. No problem.”
Because of course. He signed a cleaner BP ball with a blue pen I pulled out of my pocket and that was that. Always good to work with.
I’ll add in one more moment because, in addition to those instances, this is the other big one that comes to mind. It’s an on-field play, but I remember it not necessarily because it’s better than others. Haniger has a lot of unforgettable moments and will have more.
But for this one, I was in a suite. When you work at the Mariners, you get one free suite per year. I think this may have been the only time I even used it.
I have a big family and we lost Mom a few years ago—so any semi-recent memory of a family get-together is pretty special. And ballgames were a hefty percentage of those get-togethers. Three of my four siblings were there with their significant others (the other was in Europe getting engaged) and it’s always so good to share with family the fruits of a job you work so hard for.
This one was in 2018, a Sunday matinee against the Yankees. While we got the free suite, the catering was extra. I wouldn’t mention this if not for what was the second-best part of this day—I snuck in a backpack full of Jack’s BBQ’s breakfast tacos. Those things bang. No doubt about it, 80-grade item.
So, we had a suite, breakfast tacos and a packed ballpark for a Sunday afternoon matinee against the Yankees. And the Mariners led late, with Edwin Díaz on the mound.
Here’s how the ballgame ended.
Too good. I lost it.
Haniger has a bit of a Jim Edmonds thing going on, where the numbers aren’t as good as the eye test, but that’s part of the charm.
He does what he needs to. He comes through in big moments.
He’s an iconic Mariner for a reason.
As I write this, one specific point has been sitting in the back of my head the entire time. Probably should’ve used it earlier, but we’ll let it be the kicker.
Following this team now, tracking quotes and stories as new players join the ranks and fall in line down in Peoria, you can see there’s a culture—a way this organization does things. Players aren’t coming in to change things, there isn’t a need for a major improvement or shift.
For the first time in a long time, it means something to be a Seattle Mariner.
And Mitch Haniger is a big reason for that.
Good to have you back, 17.
#GoMs