Luke Raley's lost season is an overlooked disaster for Mariners

Luke Raley was poised for a breakout season in 2025, but injuries and roster changes have turned his campaign into a quiet disaster for the Mariners.
Seattle Mariners v Detroit Tigers
Seattle Mariners v Detroit Tigers | Gregory Shamus/GettyImages

The Seattle Mariners entered 2025 with high expectations, not just as a team, but for individual players poised to take the next step. One of those players was Luke Raley.

After a quietly impressive 2024 campaign in which he posted a 129 OPS+, launched 22 home runs, and racked up 3.2 rWAR despite being used mostly in a platoon role, it felt like Raley was on the cusp of something bigger. He had earned the right to bet on himself, and many in the organization and fanbase were betting on him too.

This wasn’t just blind hope. Raley’s progression had been steady and encouraging. After short, uninspiring stints at the major league level in 2021 and 2022, he broke out in 2023 with Tampa Bay. He mashed 19 homers in 118 games, slashing .249/.333/.490 with legitimate power and improved plate discipline. He looked like the classic late bloomer, one of those guys who just needed reps and the right environment to take off.

So when Seattle acquired him prior to the 2024 season, it felt like a savvy move for a team always looking to maximize value on the margins. And when he delivered in his first year in the Pacific Northwest, the expectation naturally became: now give him more runway, and watch him soar.

Luke Raley’s lost season might quietly change the Mariners’ future plans

But that runway never appeared. Raley’s 2025 season has unraveled into one of the more disappointing individual storylines on the team, and not entirely by his own doing.

The trouble started in spring training, where Rowdy Tellez surprisingly claimed the strong side of the first base platoon. That pushed Raley to the bench, limiting his reps and reducing his role to occasional starts in right field or at DH. For a guy who thrives on rhythm and regular at-bats, it was a tough spot to be in. But even then, there was still hope that things would normalize with time. That hope vanished before April even ended.

While taking batting practice in late April, Raley strained his right oblique, later revealed to be a Grade 1-plus strain and landed on the injured list retroactive to April 28. It wasn’t a catastrophic injury, but it was enough to derail any momentum he might have been building. He missed nearly two months recovering, and while he did look sharp during his Triple-A rehab stint, batting .368 over five games with Tacoma, it was yet another stop-start interruption in a season that never really got going.

When he returned to the roster in late June, there was optimism that he could still salvage the year. That window didn’t stay open long. Donovan Solano got hot, Dominic Canzone started crushing the ball, and then the Mariners acquired Josh Naylor to take over first base. Before the ink could dry on the lineup card, Raley was sidelined again, this time with persistent back stiffness that was initially masked by vague roster moves before the team finally acknowledged the issue. Now he finds himself back on the 10-day IL, and once again, out of the picture.

The situation is complicated further by the business side of baseball. Raley is entering his first year of arbitration this offseason, meaning he’s due for a raise. The Mariners do have three years of team control left, but they will have some decisions to make. Do they bet on Raley rebounding and try to use him in a platoon again? Or do they shop him this winter, hoping another team sees the untapped potential and pays for his upside?

It’s hard to blame Raley for how this season has gone. Injuries are part of the game, and the oblique and back issues weren’t the result of poor conditioning or performance. But in a results-driven league, especially one as impatient as the majors, the clock doesn’t stop ticking just because a player needs time. And unfortunately for Raley, 2025 has become a lost season. It was supposed to be his leap year. Instead, it’s turned into a frustrating what-if.