The End Of The Road

When Hunter was donning an MLB jersey for the first time and the Wolves were just getting started on a lengthy run of first-round playoff exits, I was an 11-year-old boy in his formative years as a sports fan.

I became a Wolves fan while Flip was leading the team to (albeit fruitless) postseason berths year after year. I became a far more hardcore Twins fan while Hunter was entrenched as the one enduring constant on four division-winning clubs from 2002 through 2006.

Needless to say, the last couple days have struck me with a lot of emotions. On Monday, Hunter announced that he has decided to end his career as a player, one day after Saunders' career as a coach and executive was tragically cut short.

I have always been a huge Flip Saunders fan. He did big things for a Timberwolves franchise that lacked an identity until he (and a kid named Kevin Garnett) gave them one. And now, after returning, he has created the foundation for what could very well be an even better run.

But what I truly admired was the fact that Flip was, at his core, a total rube.

I'll never forget listening to sports talk radio while riding in the passenger seat of my dad's car and hearing some riled up host ranting on the Wolves, only to be refuted by an animated Saunders who had (of course) been listening, and called in to defend himself. It was amazing, and it was not an infrequent occurrence.

That part of Flip never really went away. Up until the last few months, he was still doing weekly spots with Dan Barreiro; the "Friday Funkadelic" was my favorite thing on the radio, by far. Here you had the general manager AND head coach of the local pro basketball team, yukking it up on drivetime radio, sometimes deflecting Barreiro's probes for inside tidbits with a chuckle, and sometimes slyly dropping illuminating insights.

Flip's death on Sunday was a profoundly sad event, and one that hit me hard personally as I look ahead to my 30th birthday on Thursday. He was only 60, and that sure doesn't seem as old to me as it once did now that I'm checking in at the halfway point.

Hunter's retirement on Monday, conversely, brought out a vastly different set of feelings. It isn't a cause for somber reflection, but rather a cause for celebration. His career was exceptional, and he ended it on his terms. He probably did the Twins a favor, robbing them of the temptation to try and squeeze one more year out of a popular yet declining veteran, at a point where he really isn't a logical fit.

Hunter's return this year, and this week's retirement announcement, stir up a strong cocktail of mixed emotions. On the one hand, I have always loved him as a player. He was an incredibly consistent force in center field as Minnesota ushered in a new era of competitive baseball. Every year, Hunter hit around 25 home runs and posted an OPS around .800. Every year he added another Gold Glove to his shelf, establishing himself as an all-time Web Gem king.

And while I wasn't exactly enamored with his return this season from a purely baseball standpoint, there's just no denying that his decision to finish his career here is pretty damn cool. I mean, think about it. Through 18 big-league seasons and eight postseason appearances, Hunter has NEVER been to the World Series. He passed up a chance to play for the Royals, who went to the big dance last year and are back there now, opting instead for a blatantly rebuilding team coming off four straight 90-loss seasons, almost solely out of loyalty and deep-rooted affinity.

But this is where the internal conflict arises. Because on the other hand, Hunter has said some things off the field that have really rubbed me the wrong way. And while I'm very much accustomed to setting aside the personal dispositions and quirks of professional athletes in order to enjoy them as performers, some of his outspoken remarks regarding gay marriage and homosexuality in general have been off-putting to me on a rather visceral level.

But as the passing of Saunders on Sunday reminds, life is short. Too short for grudges, and for harping on negative traits. I may disagree with Hunter vehemently on a matter that I find important, but I don't presume his viewpoints stem from hatred – more likely a rigidly engrained belief system.

Last Friday, when he interviewed Terry Ryan for the Offseason Handbook, our Parker Hageman asked the general manager about Hunter's impact, and the response was unsurprisingly filled with praise.

As a follow-up, Parker asked whether Ryan would seek to replace Hunter's veteran presence in the event that the outfielder chose to retire.

The GM fumbled for words a bit. "Well, we'll see what happens, I don't know," he said tersely. "Let's see what happens before we worry about replacing him."

Ryan could not have been surprised by Monday's announcement – by all accounts, Hunter's leaning was no secret – but still it was a difficult reality to come to grips with, and not just for the GM, as this tweet from La Velle E. Neal alludes:

https://twitter.com/LaVelleNeal/status/658827874393305088

The positive sentiment toward Hunter stretches well beyond the Twins' front office, extending to his teammates, his opponents, his coaches and the media members that cover him. He smiles infectiously, embraces a leadership role, and played the game awfully hard for nearly two decades.

Hunter styled himself after Kirby Puckett, and he didn't come all that short of matching Puck's transcendent presence on the baseball field.

But like Puckett, Hunter is not without flaws. My disagreeing with his views isn't going to change them. I hope that he becomes more enlightened over time in that regard but either way I'm not going to dwell on his opinion.

Instead, I'll appreciate the spectacular things he did on the field, and the allegiance he ultimately showed to the Twins organization, while looking forward to seeing his next move in the game.

Where one road ends, another begins.