Lost amid the controversy that took place in Detroit on Wednesday night, there was what should have been the lead story throughout the baseball world. On any other night, in any other circumstances, Ken Griffey Jr.’s sudden retirement from baseball would have set the world on its ear.
On Wednesday, hours before the Mariners were set to battle the Twins, Griffey made his announcement. He didn’t tell anyone what his plans were before hand. He stressed during his announcement that no one in the Mariners organization had even encouraged him to call it quits.
And just like that, the Kid was gone. (…)
In reality though, Junior Griffey had long since been relevant in a purely baseball sense. Unlike many of his contemporaries during the offensive explosion of the mid-to-late 90s, Griffey didn’t age gracefully. The end of his career, while sudden, was a long time coming.
But boy, what a player he was early on.
From the time he reached high school, the son of the Ken Griffey was destined for super-stardom. He was a spoiled teen, self-admittedly, but that didn’t sway the Mariners from taking Junior with the first overall pick in the 1987 first-year player draft.
Less than two years removed from high school, at age 19, the Kid was starting in centerfield for the lowly M’s.
In the late 80s, there wasn’t much reason to watch baseball in Seattle. The Mariners had stunk for awhile and the Kingdome was a horrible place to play, and to watch a game. Junior’s arrival transformed the franchise. He made it cool to baseball fan in the Pacific Northwest.
To say that Griffey was the best player in baseball during his first 10 seasons might be incorrect, but if he wasn’t he was a very close second. Griffey came along a few years after Barry Bonds began playing regularly in Pittsburgh. Together, Bonds and Griffey were always numbers 1 and 1a. There was a debate that would form in every baseball conversation about which player was better. Junior was always more popular, however.
The Kid flashed his billion-dollar smile, he took batting practice with his hat on backwards, which in itself caused a stir. He had the perfect swing.
Griffey hit 16 home runs as a 19-year-old in 1989, only two player hit more as a teenager in history. From that point forward, Griffey’s amazing range and his ability to make remarkable catches look routine captivated the nation. He was the very definition of a five-tool player. He won 10 consecutive Gold Glove awards, only Willie Mays has won more a centerfielder.
But what made him historic was his power.
From 1993 through 2000, Griffey averaged 44 home runs per season. If that number doesn’t shock you, take into account that it includes the 1995 campaign, where Griffey suffered a broken wrist making an incredible catch against the wall and was limited to just 72 games, hitting only 17 home runs. Take away that season and he averaged 48 bombs per year. Again, that was just an average year for Junior Griffey.
Junior became the youngest player ever to reach 300, 350, 400, and 450 home runs. He was named to baseball’s All-Century team in 1999, before he reached age 30.
Griffey lead the American league in home runs four times, including three straight crowns, the first player since Harmon Killebrew to do that. You know that beautiful ball park in Seattle? It if weren’t for Griffey, SafeCo Field wouldn’t exist. For that matter, the Mariners themselves likely would have packed up and moved elsewhere, just as the Pilots did before them.
But even as the Mariners had enjoyed success with Junior, by 2000 it was time to move on. Griffey was traded to his hometown Cincinnati Reds, where he signed a very modest extension, well below what would have been market value.
In his first season after switching leagues, Griffey didn’t disappoint, belting 40 homers for the Reds. There didn’t seem to be any slowing him down. If there was ever going to be a player to break Hank Aaron’s record, it was thought at the time, this was the guy to do it.
Following that season, Griffey had played 12 years. He was just 30 years old and had already amassed 438 home runs. Certainly he could do it. In order to break Aaron’s mark, Griffey would have had to average just 32 homers a year for the next 10 years. He was still very much in his peak, so that seemed like no problem if he could stay healthy.
But that’s when the injuries took hold.
Over the next four years, Griffey suffered at least one major injury per season. he was limited to an average of just 73 games per season, and held to just 63 homers over that span.
While he would rebound to post two seasons of better than 30 homers in his next three, Griffey’s pace had fallen off. There was no way he could’ve caught Aaron now.
As he aged and battled the nagging aches and pulls, Griffey had lost significant range in center. When the Reds wanted to move him to right, he resisted. Over his final two seasons with the Reds, there became a growing sentiment from fans that Cincinnati was better off without their hometown hero. At the trade deadline in 2008, he was dealt away, with his permission, to the Chicago White Sox.
Over the final two months of the year in Chicago, Griffey seemed to have lost what little was left of his youth. He was allowed to patrol centerfield often enough to keep him happy, but his fairly strong start to the year as a hitter went downhill fast with the Sox. After the season, most figured Griffey should just hang ’em up.
Instead he returned to Seattle, signing as a free agent with the club he had saved so many years before. No longer a feared hitter, Griffey struggled in his first season back with the Mariners, hitting just .214 with 19 home runs as a full-time DH. But it wasn’t his bat the Mariners had sought, it was his presence. And Griffey delivered that full force.
Seattle’s great turn-around from 2008 to 2009 was credited in large part to the increased clubhouse moral, which was credited as well to Griffey. He was smiling again, the media would say, he kept the clubhouse loose, he brought a winning attitude.
But when the season ended, Griffey didn’t see the writing on the wall, and again chose to play another year. Seattle, not wanting to spurn their greatest player, re-signed Junior to another one-year deal.
But this time, the honeymoon was over. Griffey became a liability in the lineup, so much so that Don Wakamatsu benched him last month. No longer a regular, Griffey was simply a pinch-hitter, and not often used. He appeared in just one of his final nine games with the team, delivering a game-winning single on May 20, the last of his 2781 career hits.
In the end, Griffey’s retirement was almost the exact opposite of his arrival. He leaves the game with no fanfare, no celebration. He leaves the game a year or two too late for most people’s taste.
I count myself fortunate however, that the vast majority of my baseball-conscious life was spent watching the Kid play, at the best of his abilities, for so many great years. I was able to watch one of the all-time greats play, and I was able to watch his transform a region, a league, a baseball world, with his style.
There is no telling what could have been with Griffey, had the injuries not robbed him of his talents. He finished up with 630 home runs, most figure that number could have easily been 730. He ends his career with over 1800 RBI, again we can only imagine what if. But what he was, even with all the missed time, was one of the best ever at his position, and overall one of the best I ever saw.
When my kids ask me someday, God willing, who the greatest centerfielder ever was, I’ll answer Willie Mays, but as soon as I’m done saying his name, I’ll mention Griffey as well. When they ask me who the best player I ever saw was, I’ll say Barry Bonds, but again, then I’ll say Griffey, and those are two players no one should be ashamed to be listed second to.