Mike Mussina: A Noble Decision in Major League Baseball

After a month or so of soft debate in the New York media, coupled with serious personal consternation at home, Mike Mussina has walked away from the game he has graced since his days at Stanford University. Although tantalizingly close to 300 wins, a mark that seems more and more out of reach for the modern day pitcher whose quality outing is considered five-plus innings, Mussina elected to forgo a chance to guarantee entrance into the Hall of Fame; instead, he leaves baseball under his own terms, fresh on the heals of his first twenty-win season.

Always an example of professionalism and morality both on and off the diamond, Mussina has once again shown, even in his final hours as a major leaguer, that nobility and respect trump the pursuit of statistics and personal gain. Like many seasoned pitchers in an ever-aging market that offers fewer and fewer substantial, proven arms, Mussina could have renegotiated with the Yankees or went shopping to find another team-one to pay him a few million more for his leadership and long-shot opportunity to eclipse the magical 300 mark.

However, unlike many players in the past who have hung on until the very bitter end-an end that inevitably proved embarrassing and none productive, Mussina leaves at his best: a transformed pitcher who learned to succeed without the raw ability he took onto the mound with him early on in his career in Baltimore. Major leaguers such as Rickey Henderson, Edgardo Alfonso, and Jose Offerman failed to recognize the setting sun of their playing days and, in turn, decided to beg for miniscule contracts, eventually concluding their playing time in resident independent leagues. But Mussina knew better, and his colleagues should take witness.

Fans' last memories of the Moose will be walking off the hill at Fenway on his way to a career-high win total, not being shelled repeatedly in a borrowed uniform no one is used to seeing him in. We will never see him limp off into a forced retirement, for his skills remained intact, and his focus sharper than ever.

Although his win total will rest considerably short of every elite pitcher's goal, Mussina exits with far more than a record or a much desired World Series ring. Now he owns his integrity and righteousness, and he allows each fan to see him for the competitor he was, not for a grappling player struggling to reach an individualistic milestone. He disallows anyone from remembering him for diminishing ability and sub-par efforts, which makes him stand out against a backdrop of players who cannot seem to say when and who certainly will take a few extra dollars no matter what the outcome.

His decision is one that personifies the spirit of the game, and it respects the ever-present ideal that youth will eventually take over. A player's career is only as good and as long as the talent of the youth coming up, and Mussina has seen what the future holds. He understands that leaving in good standing represents a difficult yet mature decision. Thus, the Moose strolls off to suburban Pennsylvania as man shrouded in integrity and purpose, prepared to live the rest of his life knowing that he has made the right call.