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# Seattle Mariners Officially Retire Ichiro’s Number 51
- URL: https://www.emeraldcityspectrum.com/seattle-mariners-officially-retire-ichiros-number-51/
- Published: 2025-08-10T05:15:39.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-08T06:18:51.000Z
- Author: Callaghan Bluechel
- Tags: News, Mariners, Ichiro

\[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="1626"\]

![  Seattle Mariners outfielder Ichiro Suzuki had his number 51 officially retired by the ball club on August 9.  ](https://storage.ghost.io/c/1d/f2/1df2f77b-83dd-4bc0-a6d2-6d1bb5df89a3/content/images/2026/10/ichiro_suzuki_june_10-2c_2009-format-original-1.jpg)

Seattle Mariners outfielder Ichiro Suzuki had his number 51 officially retired by the ball club on August 9\. \[/caption\]

SEATTLE, Wash. – The Hall of Fame plaque stood at the base of the pitcher’s mound on T-Mobile Park on Saturday, August 9, 2025\. 15 feet further, Rick Rizzs donned his reading glasses and bellowed words of admiration from a lectern on the infield grass. A packed house circled all around him, but the legendary broadcaster was as comfortable as ever.

As always, the Mariners put out all the stops for the anticipated number retirement ceremony for Ichiro Suzuki, the first of two involving No. 51\. 

Mariner legends were introduced to rousing cheers. Alvin Davis was the first, followed by Marilyn Niehaus, wife of the late Dave Niehaus. Jay Buhner’s reception outstripped the first two as the former Ken Phelps trade bait skipped out to the infield and kissed Rizzs on the forehead.

A king’s reception followed, as Felix Hernandez exited the dugout and walked to the infield, but almost as great a cheer welcomed manager Dan Wilson.

The shouts grew louder and louder with each man after that. Edgar Martinez came out to a hero’s welcome, followed by the Big Unit Randy Johnson. But he spent little time at the top of the volume leaderboard, for Ken Griffey Jr. walked out next.

All of these legends made way for the one at hand. Rizzs called out Ichiro’s name as smoke rose around the batter’s eye in center and the wall opened 400 feet away from home plate. With grey hair on his head and a perfectly-tailored suit, Ichiro walked out from that opening and made his way to the infield. 

T-Mobile Park roared in excitement and welcomed the Hall of Famer beneath the August sun. Ichiro waved around him, greeted by eight myriad beaming eyes. The deepest caverns of the ballpark must have seemed just as near as the seats placed along the shortest wall behind home plate. 

“I-chi-ro!” chanted the fans again and again as Dan Wilson began to speak. The once catcher and now manager looked down at the lectern and uttered a heartfelt congratulation. “Dan the Man” didn’t have the most memorable lines or the funniest quips, but he spoke with a complete honesty and utter respect that seemingly drew the biggest emotional reaction from the new legend – water could be viewed in Ichiro’s eyes.

“We're so proud of you, and we're proud that you are a Seattle Mariner,” were the words Wilson used to close his speech.

The screen in center played clips from men around baseball, some present and some not. Derek Jeter and David Ortiz tried their Japanese to little reaction from a crowd that wanted to hear the words of their hometown guys. Mike Cameron was greeted warmly, Lou Piniella with a holler of “Lou!” Gary Payton and Lenny Wilkins each elicited a notable shout from a city long starved of the National Basketball Association.

Tom Brady memorably appeared to congratulate the Mariner who once memorably exclaimed, “who the f— is Tom Brady?” Seattleites – not forgetting Super Bowl XLIX – serenaded him with boos.

“What took you so long? I’ve been there for five years,” Griffey playfully noted on the screen. The real Griffey in person patted Ichiro on the back, the smile on Griffey’s face showing no extra age compared to the magnetic ‘90s superstar. Laughter erupted.

John Stanton went out to the lectern to give his dues. T-Mobile park booed the Mariners owner when his name was announced, but the last line at the end of Stanton’s speech drew a joyous cheer all the same.

“We will build a statue in honor of Ichiro Suzuki,” Stanton proclaimed.

So too did the hometown crowd bellow when the covering was removed from Ichiro’s number 51 above the ‘Pen in left center field. Streams of blue-green confetti floated down into beer cups below, but those unlucky drinkers thundered in applause just as loudly as their fellows behind home plate.

But the main event was Ichiro himself. The newly-minted hall of famer strolled to the stand and began his speech. Just like in Cooperstown a couple weeks earlier, he brought a humorous wit that bedazzled the Seattle crowd.

“Whose idea was it to have me give two speeches in English in two weeks?” Ichiro jokingly pondered. “It's one of the hardest challenges of my career.”

Ichiro expressed his gratitude to a plethora of Mariners legends. To players such as Dan Wilson and Edgar Martinez with whom he once shared the same team, to front offices who signed him with the ballclub. To Randy Johnson, who he thanked for allowing him to use number 51 – and whose own upcoming number retirement Ichiro declared he would be looking forward to attending.

A special shoutout was saved for the previous Seattle Mariner to be a global superstar.

"In the words of George Kenneth Griffey Jr., I'm damn proud to be a Seattle Mariner,” Ichiro said. “Just like him, I realized by going away, there really is no place like home."

The biggest hit in the grandstands was an impersonation of Rick Rizzs’ call of Ichiro’s famous *throw.* Ichiro remarked that since the Seattle crowd hadn’t heard his Cooperstown set, he might as well do that again.

“Holy smoke, a laser beam strike!” Ichiro shouted. The Seattle faithful adored it.

Though it must be said that his address was briefer than his Cooperstown speech. After all, there was a game to get going. Ichiro knew it, too, and he got the whole process started with his loudest shout of the night.

“Now, let's play ball!” Ichiro roared. The grounds crew quickly shimmied out onto the field and broke down all the infield setups, doing an underappreciated bit of magic to continue the day’s festivities.

Rick Rizzs, as he is wont to do, delivered the last word of the night.

“Hey Ichiro, if you're not doing anything in the next few years, we've got a radio job for you, buddy!” Rizzs hollered. 

Maybe that’s where Ichiro’s headed next, maybe not. Personally, I’d give the Ichi-cast a listen.

In any case, the man’s number emblazons the outfield concourse. Someday, another Hall of Famer may launch a baseball so ferociously that it receives an improbable dent. But in the near term, all eyes will be drawn to the statue that evidently will adorn the streetscape outside.