The last time Mike Lowell was in the visitors clubhouse at Coors Field, it was impossible to imagine an image of a happier human being.

Oct. 28, 2007: Lowell glides between the celebration in the locker room and a baseball field that is being showered with chants of his name. While grasping the World Series MVP trophy, the third baseman could not have been smiling any harder.

This was his best moment. Tuesday night was most likely one of Lowell's worst.

Three seasons later, on the very same field, in the very same clubhouse, Lowell was slapped with arguably one of the most depressing instances of his career. The heroic home run into the Denver air had been replaced by a game-ending ground out. But  the box score didn't properly paint the picture. Not playing in the previous nine days and then being slapped with the reminder of why doubters persist thanks to a jaunt down the first base line, that was what truly completed the portrait.

"It's not tough at all," Lowell told reporters after the game, having ended the Red Sox' 2-1 loss to Colorado with a ground out in which Rockies' shortstop Clint Barmes dove, rolled over, and got up in time to throw the pinch-hitter out. "It's par for the course."

Lowell is correct, the disappointment has become the norm. In fact, it's almost impossible to imagine this is the same player whose last trip through the thin air of Colorado came while gliding to and fro on Cloud 9. But what the trip back to Denver should offer something other than simply another low point in what has been the 36-year-old's more depressing year as a professional. 

This should be the bookend to a Red Sox legacy, the moment the Sox are reminded as to both what Lowell has done for the organization, and where he currently stands as the roster's 25th player. Enough is enough. Sharp grounders in key situations where the opposition makes a nice play to end the game has simply turned into reminders of a sad situation. Such swings shouldn't induce such vitriol and depression.

It is June 23 and it is time to do what's right, for all parties involved.

The reason why the Red Sox will most likely hesitate in flat-out releasing Lowell -- a player who now has the same number at-bats in June than Josh Reddick -- is due to the close to $7 million they would have to eat, and the upcoming schedule. As the cut he displayed in the ninth inning (his first since June 13), Lowell has displayed an acumen as a quality pinch-hitter, having gotten on base in five of his 11 plate appearances. And when five more games like this one, playing by National League rules, his value to the Red Sox (as currently constituted) won't be higher.

But waiting out the Twins or Rangers to either up the ante in terms of a return player, or offer more of a financial commitment in any deal, doesn't seem like the proper move anymore. 

Lowell's primary role in the eyes of the Red Sox -- and an insurance policy for David Ortiz, Adrian Beltre, or even Kevin Youkilis -- doesn't appear to be (barring out-or-nowhere injury) a necessity anymore. And because of it his value on the team is what he explained it as during his meeting with the media in New York -- not much.

There hasn't been much publicly said, but Lowell's feelings haven't changed since the Bronx. He doesn't see the point. Can you blame him? You can't. Just like you can't blame Red Sox manager Terry Francona for wanting to ride the trio of Ortiz, Beltre, and Youkilis, for better or worse, from here on out.

Lowell still has value as a major league player. This is a guy who hit .290 with 17 homers last season while playing in discomfort in each of his 119 games. As he points out, while the speed down the line might not suggest improvement, Lowell feels markedly healthier than a season ago. 

It's just when potential trade partners are left with having to rely on images such as the final one from the Red Sox' series-opening loss, or stats that show just two hits in 27 at-bats over the last 39 days, it doesn't support the theory that production is still there to be had.

Lowell is out of answers. The plea in New York has long since come and gone. He is left with short, matter-of-fact statements such as the one uttered when asked if he was surprised if Barmes made the play on his grounder: "Not at all. I'm slow. If he can get up, he has all the time in the world," he told reporters.

It is in the hands of the Red Sox, as it has been. Not Mike Lowell. Not Terry Francona. But the roster-shaping decision-makers.

Maybe it is a matter of waiting out this current swing through Denver and San Francisco, with all the pinch-hitting possibilities that await. But if nothing else let the juxtaposition of Mike Lowell's last two games at Coors Field be the guide as to why both the player and the manager deserve for this dynamic to be changed.

It's time.