M's revisit Safe's glaring problem

A brief pregame discussion yesterday with Bret Boone about getting drilled on the left arm the night before led to a conversation with a number of Seattle players, in which they went to a place they don't usually allow themselves:

Fear of being hurt, hit by a pitch up and in, a pitch they can't see.

The worries arise every time the Mariners play a late afternoon or early evening game, usually a 3:35 p.m. or 6:05 p.m. start, on a sunny day at Safeco Field.

"It's scary; it really is scary," said Boone, who said he did not see the fastball from the Minnesota Twins' Kyle Lohse on Saturday. "You cannot see the ball on a lot of pitches. We can't see half the pitches in our own park half the time. It's especially bad later in the 3 o'clock (3:35) starts and early in the 6 o'clock games."

This is not the first time a Mariner has broached this issue. There have been a few comments in public, but none as frank as Boone's.

In most instances, players have expressed their strongest feelings in private discussions with club officials.

In 1999, in what many insiders believe was one factor in his decision to leave, Ken Griffey Jr. called then General Manager Woody Woodward during a game and demanded that the roof be closed. Woodward's response reportedly was that the outfielder should never call him during a game again.

And in 2000, Alex Rodriguez's final season with the Mariners, the shortstop reportedly got into heated arguments with team president Chuck Armstrong over the issue of closing the roof on sunny days.

Armstrong was unavailable for comment yesterday. However, it seems obvious that the club stands by the rationale that on a beautiful evening the roof should be open.

The players' concern is the situation in which the plate and pitcher are in the shadow of the third-base grandstand, while the lowering sun bathes the outfield and bleachers in a bright light.

"It can be so brilliant it is blinding," catcher Dan Wilson said. "It's hard to pick up velocity and spin."

Wilson said that behind the plate is no less difficult.

"But as catchers," he added, "we have the advantage of knowing what's coming, and that can make a big difference."

John Olerud said the danger is created by a combination of not knowing what is coming — fastball in, or breaking ball that slides from the batter to the plate — and a hard-throwing pitcher.

"When you can't see, you might be slow to react," he said.

The fans have never been polled on the issue but seemingly make their feelings known by flocking to the park on such days. Seattle drew 45,416 for Saturday's 6:05 p.m. start and yesterday reached 2,028,584 for the season, the best attendance in baseball.

A number of players thought a compromise might be to close the roof for three to four innings when the glare is worst. All agreed this is unlikely and, in fact, with the roof closed or moved during a game, Seattle is 5-7, including yesterday's 8-2 win over the Twins.

"I can see the Mariners' side of this in behalf of having an open stadium on a great evening," Wilson said. "But down on the field, in the batter's box, it's tough, no doubt."

Rather than risk injury, designated hitter Edgar Martinez has been known to duck early on pitches he can't see, some that break over the plate for strikes.

"I understand why they have this feeling for the fans," Martinez said. "You want them to enjoy a sunny day after they were stuck inside for so many years."

Players realize fans sometimes take this as a whine, rather than a legitimate concern.

Boone, who never alibis for his play, said, "I realize when we're struggling people might say we're making an excuse. But I'm not. This is serious. It's a bad feeling to wake up in the morning and think, 'We have a 6 p.m. game, oh, great.' "

Martinez backed him up by saying, "You don't want to be taken as complaining. We do go out there and give our best. But it can be tough."

And dangerous?

"Sometimes," Martinez said, "you just don't see the ball at all. Yes, you have feelings about it."

Wilson said he does not recall ever losing sight of a pitch while batting.

"But remember," he said, "I'm behind the plate, too, so I see more pitches to get better adjusted."

Ben Davis solved part of the problem Saturday by wearing dark glasses both catching and hitting. It helped, as long as the lenses stayed clear.

"I got a hit my first time up, but the second time when I struck out, I couldn't wear the glasses," Davis said. "I had started to sweat a lot, and they fogged up."

He also answered the question about how opponents feel.

"(Cristian) Guzman was the first guy up for the Twins on Saturday," Davis said, "and the first pitch was a ball, up and away, and he said, 'I can't even see that.' "

Olerud said the scariness "depends on the kind of pitcher you're facing. If it's a finesse guy, then there's not a lot of worry. But if a guy is known to be a little wild or to come up and in on hitters, that's when it's a little scary."

Mark McLemore noted that this happened on Saturday. "No knock on Jamie (Moyer), but on a day like that he's at a disadvantage to a guy like Lohse. Jamie is throwing 84-85 mph and Lohse is 92. It's easier to stand in against someone not throwing as hard."

Seattle is 6-5 in 3:35 and 6:05 starts with the roof open but does not hit or win as well at home as on the road — 27-20 and .254 average at Safeco, 28-13 and .299 on the road.

Martinez noted that the club has taken several steps, including planting trees, to cut down glare and improve the hitting background.

McLemore said turning on lights around the grandstand probably wouldn't help even out the light imbalance.

"Even with other lights on, it's still as if the ball is coming out of a light," he said. "We usually don't let ourselves think about it. But when anyone allows themselves to talk about it, no one is using it as a crutch. It's bad out there."

Could someone get hurt?

"Yeah," Olerud said. "You think about someone getting hit, getting hit on the face is worst of all."

"Someday," Boone said, "someone is going to get hurt, without a doubt."

Bob Finnigan: 206-464-8276 or bfinnigan@seattletimes.com.