PEORIA, Ariz. — The scoreboard read 7-4 in favor of the Seattle Mariners on Friday afternoon, but inside the Peoria Sports Complex, the real drama wasn’t just about the win over the San Diego Padres. It was about survival. About leverage. About a veteran pitcher fighting for his place — and delivering a performance that may have forced the organization’s hand.

Michael Arroyo and Leo Rivas provided the fireworks at the plate, each launching home runs in the Cactus League opener. But on the mound, the story belonged to Cooper Criswell.

The 29-year-old right-hander, a five-year veteran with stops at the Angels, Rays and Red Sox, fired two scoreless innings, striking out three while allowing just one hit. He struck out both Jackson Merrill and Manny Machado — no small accomplishment in any setting, spring training or otherwise. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t soft contact. It was command.

In just 28 pitches, Criswell unleashed a diversified arsenal: nine sinkers, seven changeups, seven cutters and five sweepers. Twenty-one of those 28 pitches were strikes — a crisp 75 percent strike rate that kept hitters perpetually defensive. The sinker had late dive. The changeup vanished at the plate. The cutter and sweeper added angles that prevented timing adjustments. It was calculated chaos.

Behind the plate, Cal Raleigh took notice immediately.

“The ball just bottoms out there,” Raleigh said afterward. “That changeup, the sinker — super heavy, super down. Not a lot of run like with a lot of our guys. That’s more vertical drop. He struck two guys out on right-on-right changeups. It was very impressive.”

Vertical movement over horizontal sweep — that distinction matters. It’s the difference between hitters rolling over and swinging through. On Friday, they swung through.

For Criswell, though, the box score is only part of the story. The real tension lies in his contract status. He is out of minor league options. That means he cannot be sent down without being designated for assignment. If DFA’d, he must clear waivers — and that opens the door for another team to claim him outright.

The Mariners know this. So does Criswell.

Seattle signed him to an $800,000 deal — just $20,000 above the league minimum. A marginal figure on paper, but a potentially strategic one. If the Mariners attempt to sneak him through waivers, another club might hesitate over the slightly higher salary, allowing him to pass unclaimed. If he clears, he could elect free agency — but doing so would mean forfeiting that guaranteed money.

It’s a chess match layered with financial nuance.

The Mariners could choose to keep him on the major league roster as a long reliever — a role that carries increasing value over a 162-game grind. Someone who can absorb innings in swing games, cover spot starts, and stabilize chaotic stretches. In an era of bullpen volatility, pitchers who provide length are currency.

Criswell understands the complexity, but he refuses to dwell on it.

“I try not to think about that as much as I can,” he said Friday morning. “Just come in each day and try to get one percent better. Ultimately, everything’s going to take care of itself at the end of camp.”

It’s a measured answer. Controlled. Professional. But beneath it lies urgency.

Criswell’s career numbers — 8-7 with a 4.48 ERA — won’t dominate headlines. His most productive campaign came with Boston in 2024, when he posted a 4.08 ERA across 26 appearances. Solid. Reliable. Not flashy. Yet performances like Friday’s remind evaluators why experience matters.

He didn’t overpower hitters with triple-digit velocity. He dismantled them with sequencing and precision. That’s the profile of a pitcher who understands how to survive — and perhaps thrive — in high-leverage, unpredictable roles.

As the Mariners prepare for their next Cactus League contest against the San Francisco Giants, roster battles are quietly intensifying. Spring training isn’t just about sharpening timing; it’s about eliminating uncertainty.

Criswell, for at least one afternoon, removed doubt.

The Mariners must now decide: risk losing him on waivers, or commit a valuable roster spot to a veteran whose versatility could prove indispensable when injuries inevitably surface?

Spring games fade from memory quickly. But certain performances linger because they shift internal conversations. Criswell’s debut felt like one of those moments — not loud, not theatrical, but consequential.

In a clubhouse filled with young arms and established names, a 29-year-old fighting for stability may have just complicated the front office’s calculus.

And if Friday was any indication, Cooper Criswell isn’t waiting for clarity. He’s forcing it.