💥 BREAKING NEWS: Cal Raleigh just had the greatest catcher season in history but still calls 2025 a “failure,” leaving Seattle speechless ⚡ .MH

60 home runs.

A season that even legends would have to look back on.

But as the season ended in tears at Rogers Centre, Cal Raleigh used a word that sent Seattle into a standstill: “failure.”

That’s not how you usually describe a historic year.

Raleray not only reached 60 home runs—he did it while catching 121 games, coordinating pitching staff, not making a single passed ball, and leading the Seattle Mariners to their first AL West championship in over two decades. He broke the catcher’s home run record previously held by Salvador Perez. He became the first switch-hitter in MLB history to achieve at least 20 home runs on each side in a single season.

It wasn’t a good season.

It was an “unbelievable” season.

And then Game 7 of the ALCS happened.

Seattle led 3-1 going into the end of the 7th inning. Just two more innings and the World Series door would open. But when the game slipped from their grasp, all the numbers faded. Raleigh, who had shot .304 in the postseason with 5 home runs, stood in the locker room with red eyes and declared that season a failure.

Not because he wasn’t good enough.

But because the team hadn’t reached its goal.

Three weeks later, standing in Las Vegas awaiting the MVP results — where he finished second to Aaron Judge in a close vote — Raleigh didn’t retract his words. He just said he might have been “a little too harsh.”

But that was the problem.

Seattle was used to celebrating individual milestones. This time, they had a true superstar. “Big Dumper” became a cultural icon — from the Home Run Derby to Halloween costumes stuffed with pillows in the back of their pants.

He was the new face of the franchise.

He was the player voted Player of the Year by his peers.

He was one of the rare catcher to be compared to a legend.

Yet he refused to fully enjoy it.

Raleray said that catching the ball every day, immersed in game plan and strategy, helped him “compartmentalize”—detach himself from the 60 homer fever. He didn’t look at the spotlight. He looked at the next inning.

Perhaps that’s why he reached his peak.

But perhaps that’s also why he didn’t allow himself to be completely happy.

Seattle once craved a player like him—one who set standards higher than individual achievement. But the higher the standards, the greater the pressure. When you’ve had the greatest season in your position’s history and still call it a failure, you’re setting yourself a benchmark that’s almost impossible to replicate.

It’s noteworthy that Raleigh didn’t talk about raising his batting average from .247 to .270 as a mechanical revolution. He talked about “one hit per week.” No change in swing. No overhaul of technique. Just a change in focus.

That’s the philosophy of someone who believes everything is between their ears.

But baseball doesn’t always reward mental discipline. It can punish you with a throw that misses an inch, a ball that goes a few feet off target.

Seattle has come further than ever since 2001. They have a superstar at the peak of his career. They have renewed faith.

But when the team’s biggest star still considers his best year “not enough,” the question is no longer whether the Mariners can win a championship.

But rather:

Is Cal Raleigh turning desire into motivation…

Or is he inadvertently turning every championship-less season into a death sentence?