SEATTLE (AP) -Ichiro Suzuki wasn't just visiting an elementary school. It looked like he was IN elementary school.
The reclusive All-Star and Gold Glove franchise cornerstone was the last of five Seattle Mariners to emerge from a white van in front of Olympic View Elementary on Wednesday afternoon. The group was participating in the Mariners' annual education day, a tour of area grade schools by players and coaches who preach the virtues of sound choices in life.
Manager John McLaren, bullpen coach Norm Charlton, Gold Glove third baseman Adrian Beltre and veteran reliever Arthur Rhodes all wore their blue Mariners game jerseys over dress shirts.
Suzuki? He wore a green and white 1970s-style cap with the word ``Orange'' on it - turned backward - over a tight, white T-shirt with black print and a black, fleece-like rain jacket. His jeans were chic and faded, his footwear designer white sneakers.
Assistant Principal Mary McDaniel said she thought Suzuki was one of her fifth graders when he passed through the main office.
``He was ... casual,'' McDaniel said, tongue in cheek. ``He blended in very well with the students.''
When McDaniel began the program by asking the 353 kids from kindergarten through fifth grade why they were assembled in the lunch room-auditorium, squeals ``To see Ichiro!'' drowned out ``To see the Mariners!''
``Eee-chee-ro! Eee-chee-ro!'' the students roared as the center fielder entered the room as the last of the five Mariners.
He twice put his hand up just above his waist to say ``Hi.''
Beltre began the program by speaking for less than a minute about D.R.E.A.M., an acronym for avoiding Drugs, learning Respect, valuing Education, having a good Attitude and staying Motivated.
Younger students sat quietly with mouths agape. Fourth and fifth graders in the back, some wearing Mariners, Boston Red Sox and old St. Louis Browns caps, nodded their heads.
Charlton talked about respect, how ``When John McLaren tells me to do something, whether I want to do it or not, I have do it. I have to respect him because he's my boss.''
McLaren playfully shook his fist authoritatively at his assistant.
The manager preached education.
``How many of you do your homework as soon as you get home from school?'' McLaren asked.
Almost every kid raised their hands.
``Good. And I hope you are all telling the truth,'' he said.
Down the line of plastic chairs they went. The sometimes menacing Rhodes got up, smiled and playfully growled, ``You know why they gave me 'Attitude?' Because I have a bad attitude on the mound.''
Suzuki, who had been sitting gazing absently with his hands clasped on his lap throughout this talk, was due up next. But Charlton was reintroduced to discuss the ``M'' - motivation. The older students in the back of the room hissed.
``What?'' some said.
``Hey!'' others exclaimed.
The students were anticipating their hero speaking through his interpreter Ken Barron, but Barron stood off to the side. Ichiro sat motionless as Charlton spoke again.
Mariners staffers on hand had no explanation for Suzuki's silence, which was unusual even for him. Later, in the clubhouse before a game against Texas, Suzuki declined through Barron to say why he asked Charlton to speak for him.
Maybe it was because Seattle entered Wednesday night's game tied for last place in the AL West instead of contending for the title. Maybe it was because Suzuki was batting .282, 51 points below his career average.
``Maybe he had a cold or something,'' McLaren said. ``I don't know.''
McLaren still remembers Suzuki's first school visit in his 2001 debut season in Seattle. Suzuki joked with students, then rambled on about goofy teammate Bret Boone and even got on the floor among the thrilled kids, who scrambled around him like he was a jungle gym.
Across town at McGilvra Elementary, closer J.J. Putz, young ace starter Felix Hernandez and new starter Carlos Silva commandeered students' bikes and were admonished by teachers to don their helmets, which they dutifully did as everyone laughed.
In his program, the usually bashful Hernandez exhorted the yelling students to be more enthusiastic.
``I can't hear you!'' the 22-year-old Venezuelan said.
McLaren said the day was special for the Mariners - and the students. He said he still remembers being a kid and meeting outfielder Brock Davis of the 1960s Houston Colt .45s at a baseball clinic.
``That is something those kids will remember for the rest of their lives, having Ichiro there,'' McLaren said.
On his way out of the lunch room, the students were still screaming ``Ichiro!''
Suzuki kept his back to them. Then he raised his right hand and walked out the door. In 15 minutes, half of their scheduled time at school, he and the Mariners were gone.
