Absent some memorable postseason heroics — and sorry to say, that category hasn't applied in Minnesota for decades — there could hardly be a better, more sentimental goodbye for a longtime ballplayer than the heartwarming spectacle of Joe Mauer crouching behind the plate Sunday.
But what if it wasn't goodbye? One prominent observer of the Twins hometown hero believes it would be a mistake for Mauer to walk away at the tender young age of 35. Of course, he might be biased.
"I think he's still got more, I really do," said Jake Mauer, father of Sunday's honoree. "He can still hit and play pretty good defense. … We'll see."
Joe Mauer has said he realizes that making such a drastic decision while still winding down from the grind of 162 games and the disappointment of yet another season spent miles from a pennant race would be a mistake. So even as he acted all Lou Gehrig on Sunday, thanking the fans and his teammates and shedding a few tears on the field, he still reserved the right to go Bartolo Colon on his career.
"I want to give myself some time to decompress and really make a good decision," he said Sunday, still occasionally choking up as he spoke. "Emotions are all over the place. I just want to give myself the chance to step away for a second."
He has plenty of elements to consider. A year ago, the Twins qualified for the postseason, albeit a very brief one commensurate with their not-exactly-dominant 85-77 record, and Mauer enjoyed a renaissance season, his best since concussions bruised his brain and his career. No wonder he flatly stated a week before spring training opened that "I'd like to keep going. I really enjoy playing this game, and I'd like to keep doing that as long as I can."
But as September dawned, Mauer was reminded of those words. His reply: "A lot can change in six months."
And you only had to look around the clubhouse to see his point. The Twins were a wreck, with projected stars Byron Buxton and Miguel Sano lost to injury and ineffectiveness, and the Indians several laps ahead in the standings. Some of his closest friends, Brian Dozier and Eduardo Escobar, had been traded, and many of his new young teammates were strangers.