This was no way to end an era. Reds chief operating officer John Allen stood at a podium at 7 p.m. Monday night, just an hour after the team had called the press conference, to read the eulogy for Barry Larkin's unparalleled 18-year career in Cincinnati.

Eighteen seasons, an MVP Award, 11 All-Star Games, nine Silver Slugger Awards and three Gold Gloves came down to 11 words from Allen: "Barry Larkin will not be back with the Reds in 2004."

And there you have it. Good luck and thank you for what you've done.

"We did want to offer Barry Larkin a contract," Allen said. The Reds offer was met "with a pretty solid no" from both Larkin and his agent, said Allen.

Multiple club sources said the offer was a $500,000 base salary and $500,000 in incentives based on playing time: At-bats, games played, games started. Given Larkin's injury-busted season this year and in 2001, and the fact he'll be 40 next April, it was a fair offer.

Given Larkin's pride and belief in himself, it was a slap in the face.

All together, it was a damned shame.

PHOTO GALLERY

18 Larkin photos

There is no good way to do this, not when the player's pride is involved. Not when the player's opinion of his own skills is significantly higher than that of the club's. Larkin believes he can still play; the Reds don't, at least not at a level any higher than a utility player-slash-father figure.

If Larkin's soon-to-expire three-year, $27-million deal recognized what he'd meant to the Reds, sort of a lifetime-achievement contract, this offer was a fair, if cold, business decision.

As Larkin saw it, "This offer showed me the door.''

It shouldn't have ended this way. Blame the club for that. Discussions with Larkin should have begun weeks ago, so at least an attempt at a reasoned agreement could have been made. Larkin, of all people, deserved better than an 11th-hour decision and dueling, slapped together news conferences. There is no reason one of the five best players in Reds history should be leaving fanfare-less and bitter. It was a clumsy amateurish mess, not unusual for the Reds now.

Larkin declined a day in his honor, either not realizing or not caring that the event would be as much for Reds fans as for him. If Larkin wants retribution, he can return to Great American Ball Park next season and win a game wearing another uniform. Number 11 should rethink the Day.

Those who didn't like Larkin will remember him as a clubhouse lawyer who served as an unofficial advisor to former general manager Jim Bowden. They will say Larkin's influence with Bowden helped get Jack McKeon fired and Bob Boone hired. They'll remember Larkin stripped the captain's "C" from his jersey.

Click to view Acrobat PDF file (496k) showing statistics and milestones from Barry's career with the Reds. | ZOOM |

Believe what you want. I liked Larkin a great deal, and I didn't like him half as much as I respected him. I admired his dignity during Marge Schott's bigot binges, when Larkin had to walk the fine line between being a team leader and a proud man of color.

I saw the hours Larkin put in with younger players in Sarasota, after workouts were done. I embraced wholly his professionalism, at a time when ballplayers routinely lacked it. Barry Larkin never cheated you, not one day.

I'll remember a younger Larkin stealing hits in the hole, and in the outfield turf behind second base. I'll remember Larkin slashing doubles to right-center, and knowing that was when he was in a hitting groove.

Great ballplayers leave the game one of two ways: On top and/or with grace, or the way Larkin is leaving the Reds: Full of bile. The Reds didn't show Larkin the door; neither did they beg him to stay. Larkin was too proud to see the club's point.

As a result, the final memory of a great career is one everyone wants to forget.

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E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com