MLB expert makes the best case yet for the Mariners to move on from Eugenio Suárez

The Seattle Mariners are in that familiar, unforgiving space where sentiment and winning collide. You can love a player’s moments and still recognize when the trendline points the other way. Eugenio Suárez gave Seattle real drama and real joy. But if 2026 is about sharpening edges rather than polishing memories, the front office can’t chase yesterday’s power. Their offense needs more lift in the contact and zone-control departments, not another bet that requires perfect timing to pay off.

And that’s why Keith Law of The Athletic delivers what feels like a cold splash of clarity. He didn’t nitpick vibes; he zoomed in on skill erosion: production against fastballs trending down, in-zone whiff above average, a career-high chase rate (31 percent in 2025), and the looming reality of age-34 bat speed. His bottom line was simple and ruthless: a one-year flier is one thing, but any further loss of bat speed could be “catastrophic.” 

Those are the exact red flags you avoid, not rationalize. We agree, and Mariners fans who watched every pitch probably do, too.

The Mariners can’t justify a Eugenio Suárez reunion in 2026

The numbers back the eye test. Suárez’s Z-Contact (the rate at which a hitter makes contact with pitches inside the strike zone) fell below his career norm, a quiet indicator that even hittable pitches are starting to beat him.

Against four-seamers, he hit just .226 — the second-lowest mark of his career. Stack that on top of a chase rate spike, and you start to see the whole picture: fewer flush barrels on heaters, more empty swings at pitcher’s pitches, and longer, emptier plate appearances that stall innings.

This is not a referendum on character, leadership, or the reality that his Game 5 was epic. That night will keep its place in franchise lore, no matter what. But planning an offense is not a highlight-reel exercise; it’s a probability puzzle. Seattle needs more balls in play, more stubborn at-bats, and a third-base solution that raises the floor on contact rather than asks for a time machine. Paying for the tail end of a slugger’s fastball problem is the exact kind of bet that drags a lineup to the middle.

It’s also why the optics around a reunion feel misleading. Yes, the Mariners are routinely listed as a top landing spot. Yes, fans have braced for goodbye even as they keep the door cracked for one more run. But that’s more about familiarity than fit. If you’re constructing a 162-game plan to beat October-level pitching, you’d rather buy plate discipline and bat-to-ball than hope a veteran’s bat speed stabilizes at 34.

Could a one-year, low-risk pact make sense? Only with strict guardrails: a modest salary, a right-handed power role that can be protected with platoons, and zero illusions about everyday third-base volume. Even then, it’s hard to argue it meaningfully solves Seattle’s offensive profile. The marginal value of nostalgia is real in ticket sales and social feeds (just ask the Pittsburgh Pirates); it’s nonexistent when a 98 up in the zone becomes a popup.

The smarter path is to let the memories be memories and redirect resources toward hitters who shrink the plate, lift the OBP, and punish mistakes without needing premium velocity to meet them halfway. That can be a glove-first third baseman paired with a contact-oriented bat elsewhere, a trade for a younger profile with zone feel, or a short-term stopgap that doesn’t block a longer-term solution.

The Mariners shouldn’t talk themselves into a reunion because it feels good. They should celebrate Geno. Thank him. And, with clear eyes, don’t do it.