Ken Griffey Jr., My Generation's Ballplayer
I was sifting through the baseball scores yesterday, looking to see how my fantasy guys were doing. I know, I'm a super cool guy. Anyhow, I came across this one: K. Griffey Jr. (7, 1st inning off M. Hendrickson, 1 on, 1 out). Wait, he did it? It was about 4:30 p.m. yesterday and I just found myself smiling, for the first time all day too (stomach virus, not fun). 600 HR for Ken Griffey Jr.
I tried to think about why I like Griffey so much. I remember back to when I was little, collecting baseball cards, saving up to buy the 1989 Upper Deck set because that was the one with Griffey's most sought-after rookie card. I remember practicing Griffey's home run swing. I may have thrown like a girl when I tried to throw lefty, but I had Griffey's swing down pat. At least I think I did. I remember the first time I hit a tennis ball over the pool in our backyard batting lefty. I felt like him. It didn't matter that there was no crowd and that it was just my Dad and me. My swing flowed into my home run strut. My bat dropped. My shoulders swayed a little. I took three steps to admire my work and then a slow jog around the yard. Growing up, I always wanted to play in the infield. That was until my first season of little league playing for the Cheviot Hills Mariners. Guess who started at CF for that team. Yup. Little Eric Rudin. My coach wouldn't let me bat lefty though. I remember practicing my home run saving catches over the fence at the park during summer camp. Of course my little league didn't have a home run fence, nor could I jump nearly high enough to get over the fence I practiced on, but no matter. I was Ken Griffey Jr.
Still though, why so much love for this guy? Sure he was amazing, but there were other great ballplayers too. The Dodgers had a guy win the Rookie of the Year seemingly every season but nobody got me excited for baseball the way Griffey did. He just looked like he had so much fun out there. His home run strut wasn't about showing up the pitcher or hyping up the crowd. I think he just got legitimately happy about sending one over the fence. He wanted to watch it land. For me, it's like hitting the golf ball over the back fence at the driving range. I squint hard just to see where the little white ball lands. And that's how Griffey comes off to me. Like he's just playing ball at some park with a few people around watching. That's why I think it was fitting for him to reach this milestone in Florida with about 15 people in attendance, about 10 of whom were Griffey's blood relatives. Nobody really paid much attention to Griffey's approaching 600, maybe because Griffey didn't need our attention for his fulfillment. It's not that he hates the attention the way Bonds does. Griffey doesn't antagonize the entire human race outside of his home park like Bonds. But Griffey doesn't need to be loved by the fans the way someone like Alex Rodriguez does either. Griffey just needs to be respected and he has always carried himself that way. He wants to be a ballplayer. He grew up watching his Dad and wanted to follow in his footsteps. What's so tough to understand about that? It's easy to like Griffey. The man provides so much entertainment, does things the right way, and enjoys the process. We should all be so lucky.
I'm not going to delve into any arguments too deeply. But, needless to say, barring his proclivity for getting injured, I think Griffey would be widely regarded as the greatest ballplayer of his generation. And, as soon as Bonds' situation gets played out, I think Griffey will be rightfully remembered as such anyway. It's just such a shame that MLB and the Players Union screwed things up so royally that our focus shifted away from guys like Griffey and Ripken. But I digress. Here are some numbers: For four seasons, from 1996 through 1999, Griffey averaged 52 HR, 142 RBI, 123 R, 19 SB and a .294 BA. (All stats in this column are from baseball-reference.com). And let's not forget that he won the Gold Glove every year in the 1990s. Yes, every year for the entire decade. If you take his career statistics and compile a 162-game average, Jr. would average 40 HR, 115 RBI, 105 R, 12 SB, and a .289 BA. Not too shabby. Compare that to Barry Bonds' lifetime 162-game averages of 41 HR, 108 RBI, 121 R, 28 SB, and a .298 AVG. Bonds' numbers do look a little nicer, but then again, Griffey didn't use Jack's Beanstalk Beans to achieve his numbers. I'm not arguing as to who was more feared at the plate. Bonds could have batted .1000 in his last four seasons with the defensive shifts opposing teams used if he dropped bunts down the third base line. But what if Griffey didn't get injured? Would he have received the same treatment? What if Bonds didn't mutate from his early 90s self into the Incredible Hulk? By the way, how long will they wait after the Edward Norton remake to do one with Matt Damon, 3 years? 4 years? Isn't there a mandatory waiting period for remakes? At least call this one "The Incredible Hulk 2" to avoid insulting our intelligence.
Here's the last thing I'll say about Griffey. I went to one of the Dodgers-Reds games a few weeks ago. I go to about 10-15 Dodgers games a season. When the visiting lineup was announced every player got his requisite light boos except for Griffey. Some Dodgers fans booed loudly, the normal reaction for a great visiting player, but quite a few Dodgers fans gave Griffey a quiet applause and some approving nods. I was one of those fans. You don't cheer for the opposing team, but I couldn't bring myself to boo Griffey either and I wasn't alone in that feeling. In the bottom of the first, Griffey made a sliding catch down the first base line to rob (insert struggling Dodgers' batter here) of a hit, and again, mild applause with some approving nods. We kind of looked like that overweight Yankees fan at the end of For the Love of the Game when Billy Chapel (Kevin Costner's character) pitched a perfect game in Yankee Stadium. I guess you don't boo greatness. Later on, Griffey came to bat. He got a hold of a pitch and sent it deep to center only to be robbed of a home run at the wall by a leaping Matt Kemp. I am a die-hard Dodgers fan but something inside of me wanted to see that ball carry another three feet. I wanted to see that strut in person, the one I had dreamed of doing so many times as a kid. I wanted to admire his work as he was doing the same. I wanted to watch him quietly enjoy his jog around the bases with a little smile on his face during his first few strides. I can't think of another ballplayer in my lifetime that has elicited the kinds of reactions that Griffey has and I don't see another like him on the horizon. Thank you Jr. and congratulations on Number 600.
I tried to think about why I like Griffey so much. I remember back to when I was little, collecting baseball cards, saving up to buy the 1989 Upper Deck set because that was the one with Griffey's most sought-after rookie card. I remember practicing Griffey's home run swing. I may have thrown like a girl when I tried to throw lefty, but I had Griffey's swing down pat. At least I think I did. I remember the first time I hit a tennis ball over the pool in our backyard batting lefty. I felt like him. It didn't matter that there was no crowd and that it was just my Dad and me. My swing flowed into my home run strut. My bat dropped. My shoulders swayed a little. I took three steps to admire my work and then a slow jog around the yard. Growing up, I always wanted to play in the infield. That was until my first season of little league playing for the Cheviot Hills Mariners. Guess who started at CF for that team. Yup. Little Eric Rudin. My coach wouldn't let me bat lefty though. I remember practicing my home run saving catches over the fence at the park during summer camp. Of course my little league didn't have a home run fence, nor could I jump nearly high enough to get over the fence I practiced on, but no matter. I was Ken Griffey Jr.
Still though, why so much love for this guy? Sure he was amazing, but there were other great ballplayers too. The Dodgers had a guy win the Rookie of the Year seemingly every season but nobody got me excited for baseball the way Griffey did. He just looked like he had so much fun out there. His home run strut wasn't about showing up the pitcher or hyping up the crowd. I think he just got legitimately happy about sending one over the fence. He wanted to watch it land. For me, it's like hitting the golf ball over the back fence at the driving range. I squint hard just to see where the little white ball lands. And that's how Griffey comes off to me. Like he's just playing ball at some park with a few people around watching. That's why I think it was fitting for him to reach this milestone in Florida with about 15 people in attendance, about 10 of whom were Griffey's blood relatives. Nobody really paid much attention to Griffey's approaching 600, maybe because Griffey didn't need our attention for his fulfillment. It's not that he hates the attention the way Bonds does. Griffey doesn't antagonize the entire human race outside of his home park like Bonds. But Griffey doesn't need to be loved by the fans the way someone like Alex Rodriguez does either. Griffey just needs to be respected and he has always carried himself that way. He wants to be a ballplayer. He grew up watching his Dad and wanted to follow in his footsteps. What's so tough to understand about that? It's easy to like Griffey. The man provides so much entertainment, does things the right way, and enjoys the process. We should all be so lucky.
I'm not going to delve into any arguments too deeply. But, needless to say, barring his proclivity for getting injured, I think Griffey would be widely regarded as the greatest ballplayer of his generation. And, as soon as Bonds' situation gets played out, I think Griffey will be rightfully remembered as such anyway. It's just such a shame that MLB and the Players Union screwed things up so royally that our focus shifted away from guys like Griffey and Ripken. But I digress. Here are some numbers: For four seasons, from 1996 through 1999, Griffey averaged 52 HR, 142 RBI, 123 R, 19 SB and a .294 BA. (All stats in this column are from baseball-reference.com). And let's not forget that he won the Gold Glove every year in the 1990s. Yes, every year for the entire decade. If you take his career statistics and compile a 162-game average, Jr. would average 40 HR, 115 RBI, 105 R, 12 SB, and a .289 BA. Not too shabby. Compare that to Barry Bonds' lifetime 162-game averages of 41 HR, 108 RBI, 121 R, 28 SB, and a .298 AVG. Bonds' numbers do look a little nicer, but then again, Griffey didn't use Jack's Beanstalk Beans to achieve his numbers. I'm not arguing as to who was more feared at the plate. Bonds could have batted .1000 in his last four seasons with the defensive shifts opposing teams used if he dropped bunts down the third base line. But what if Griffey didn't get injured? Would he have received the same treatment? What if Bonds didn't mutate from his early 90s self into the Incredible Hulk? By the way, how long will they wait after the Edward Norton remake to do one with Matt Damon, 3 years? 4 years? Isn't there a mandatory waiting period for remakes? At least call this one "The Incredible Hulk 2" to avoid insulting our intelligence.
Here's the last thing I'll say about Griffey. I went to one of the Dodgers-Reds games a few weeks ago. I go to about 10-15 Dodgers games a season. When the visiting lineup was announced every player got his requisite light boos except for Griffey. Some Dodgers fans booed loudly, the normal reaction for a great visiting player, but quite a few Dodgers fans gave Griffey a quiet applause and some approving nods. I was one of those fans. You don't cheer for the opposing team, but I couldn't bring myself to boo Griffey either and I wasn't alone in that feeling. In the bottom of the first, Griffey made a sliding catch down the first base line to rob (insert struggling Dodgers' batter here) of a hit, and again, mild applause with some approving nods. We kind of looked like that overweight Yankees fan at the end of For the Love of the Game when Billy Chapel (Kevin Costner's character) pitched a perfect game in Yankee Stadium. I guess you don't boo greatness. Later on, Griffey came to bat. He got a hold of a pitch and sent it deep to center only to be robbed of a home run at the wall by a leaping Matt Kemp. I am a die-hard Dodgers fan but something inside of me wanted to see that ball carry another three feet. I wanted to see that strut in person, the one I had dreamed of doing so many times as a kid. I wanted to admire his work as he was doing the same. I wanted to watch him quietly enjoy his jog around the bases with a little smile on his face during his first few strides. I can't think of another ballplayer in my lifetime that has elicited the kinds of reactions that Griffey has and I don't see another like him on the horizon. Thank you Jr. and congratulations on Number 600.
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