Bagwell has played his last game as an Astro, and there is shock and sadness in that fact, even if we all saw it coming. What we won't know until the season begins to unfold is how much Bagwell's absence will hurt this club.
Rest assured, it will hurt.
The Astros played most of last season without Bagwell and had the greatest season in their history. He was replaced on the lineup card, and the club hardly missed him in terms of wins and losses.
Still, Bagwell was on good terms with management then and was coming off surgery with the hope of returning to the lineup. He stayed involved in the clubhouse, behind the batting cage and in the dugout with advice and coaching.
He was at his locker every day. He was part of the team, and when he did return as a pinch hitter and designated hitter, his impact was huge, even if the numbers were not.
That is the difference between then and now. The Astros always knew Bagwell would be back in 2005. Now, they know he will not. Bagwell was always in the clubhouse no matter his injury. Now, it's unlikely he'll be there.
I saw Bagwell provide hundreds of memories over the years, including dozens of home runs and spectacular stops at first base. I saw clutch hits and the brazen way he inched so close to the plate in bunting situations. There was the day I saw him hit three home runs at Wrigley Field and the night he made an unbelievable unassisted double play at the Astrodome.
But one memory — a single — stands above the rest. Because that single said more about what Bagwell meant to his teammates than anything else I ever saw.
On a September night in the thick of the wild-card race last season, Astros manager Phil Garner called on Bagwell to pinch hit in the bottom of the ninth inning of a 1-1 game against the Milwaukee Brewers. There were runners on first and second with two out.
The moment never will leave me. When I fill out my Hall of Fame ballot the first year Bagwell is eligible, I won't look at the statistics or career recap that come with the voting package. I'll look back at that Friday at Minute Maid Park.
As Bagwell walked to the batter's box, his teammates stepped to the front of the dugout, hanging their chins over the top rail like kids. They wanted to watch something special. The crowd stood and roared, some fans clasping their hands in front of their faces as if they were praying.
Bagwell couldn't catch up to Dana Eveland's fastball. One, then another blew right past him. Bagwell was playing with one arm, basically.
But when he smashed a game-winning, opposite-field single on the third pitch, the lingering image was not the expression on his face — that humble little half-smile we all have come to know.
It was the looks on the faces of his teammates, the childlike glee and pride. It was the broad smile on Garner's face as he hopped up the dugout steps. It was Biggio jumping up and down, slapping the top of Bagwell's helmet as if they were all going to Dairy Queen afterward to celebrate.
Bagwell would never use this word to sum up what he inspires from teammates: reverence.
But that's what it is. That's what was there every day and won't be now.
With Bagwell not in the equation anymore, this team will be faster, certainly stronger defensively, younger and possibly even more powerful.
But better?
In the little ways, the significant small things that build championships and keep a team focused and professional when it starts off 15-30, there is a void that will be impossible to fill.
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