Ken Griffey Junior's Legacy: A Day to Remember

It is unfortunate that the same day Ken Griffey Jr. announced his retirement from baseball, we also witnessed theft in the highest degree in the annals of the sport.

Although it will be the center of water-cooler conversation and deliberated constantly for the next few weeks and beyond, and while Armando Galarraga absolutely deserves due credit and attention for another dazzling performance of individual prowess and accomplishment, I think Griffey Jr. will also be robbed of a similar acclaim that he, too, absolutely commands.

Galarraga was one exasperatingly blown call away from a perfect game, making what would have been the third such performance in 25 days.  For perspective, the previous 96 years (some 35,000-odd days, but who’s counting?) saw 16 perfect games—about one every six years.

The exclusivity of the perfect game is not to be ignored, but this piece isn’t about the glory Galarraga should have attained.

Instead, this is a short, well-merited celebration of a great baseball role model who left a distinct mark on the game during his prime in the 1990s.

I’m not sure there is a swing in baseball that can match Junior’s sleek and smooth motion.  But for all of his power and contact, I hardly remember a ball he hit that made poor contact.  Rather, it seemed every ball in he put into play was destined for beyond the outfield walls.

But his offensive capabilities were equally matched with spectacular flashes of leather in the field, making home run robberies seem like routine fly-balls. 

His awards and recognitions are similarly noted.

His 13 All-Star selections—including 10 consecutive from 1990 to 2000—and 10 Gold Glove Awards merely scratch the surface of what Griffey was able to accomplish as an individual player.  I can only imagine what his numbers would look like if not for the constant battle with injuries.

An unquestionable icon for young baseball players, he was a precursor to the impact that Ichiro is developing right now in the Emerald City.  To this day, he remains one of the pure players in the highly scrutinized Steroid Era and represents the last of a baseball generation that played the game “the right way.”   Much like his father, Junior was a household baseball name not only in the United States, but arguably in the entire world.  It was a shame he ever left the Mariners only to meet recurrent injuries in Cincinnati.

I realize this commemoration does not do justice to the impression he left on the game.  I only hope to shine some light on an illustrious baseball legacy and perhaps an even more heroic baseball name.  And for every ball he blasted out of the park in the Kingdome and Safeco Field and every one he brought back, the impact he made grew bigger and bigger. 

If there was ever a day to give credit where credit is due, June 2, 2010 could be a day we all remember when two players are cheated from what should have been ultimate days of remembrance.

Here’s to you, Junior.