Griffey an athlete we can applaud

When Ken Griffey Jr. crushed a ball into the right field stands of Dolphin Stadium Monday night, it marked the 600th round-tripper of the future Hall of Famer’s career.

It was a scene we have all witnessed before – the sweet swing, the patented follow-through, the home run trot – but it meant so much more.

Griffey’s nickname, “The Natural,” is the perfect moniker for a man that, unlike a number of his modern-day counterparts, achieved greatness on his own, without the help of steroids, HGH, or “B-12.”

(I know that most of these other players haven’t tested positive for any performance-enhancing drugs, but come on – if you believe Bonds is clean, I have an inflatable dartboard I’ll sell you for ten bucks)

There was never a single mention of the ten-time gold glove winner’s name in the Mitchell Report, or on Congressional Hill when player after player made themselves and the game look ridiculous when they feebly tried to weasel their way out of a tarnished legacy.

Instead, Griffey was busy getting older, getting slower…one might call it aging, the way normal people do when they play a game for almost two decades.

Born in the same hometown of Donora, Pennsylvania as Stan Musial, Griffey took a pay-cut to play for the Cincinnati Reds, the home team of the city he grew up in and the ballclub he watched his dad play for.

By all accounts, the first overall pick of the 1987 draft is a lock for Cooperstown on the first ballot. He has 600 home runs and 1,730 RBIs (and counting). He’s played in 13 All-Star games, won seven silver slugger awards, and took home the American League MVP Award in 1997.

Anyone who has watched Griffey play wonders what his numbers would be if he didn’t lose so many games during his prime to nasty wrist and hamstring injuries.

We could easily be talking about him as the home run king right now and feel a lot better about it than we do with the man who currently occupies that spot – wondering whether there should be an asterisk next to the game’s most hallowed record in the history books while the “king” spends more of his time in courtrooms than on baseball diamonds.

Griffey is what America’s past-time is about. He’s an athlete you can bring your son or daughter, or parent or cousin to the park to see, and know you aren’t being fooled by performance-enhancing drugs.

It was beautiful to watch Griffey launch home runs with ease in his hey-day, but it is perhaps even easier to appreciate him now as the home runs are much fewer and farther between.

Age has caught up with one of the greatest the game has ever seen, and as a fan of his, I couldn’t be more proud.

When “The Kid” launched his 600th home run, on the road no less, he received a standing ovation. There were no boos, no syringes tossed in his general direction, no recollections of finger-wagging in Congress or perjury lawsuits pending.

With Junior it was simply adulation – the sound of 16,000+ people realizing that they had just seen something almost unfathomable, done by someone so human.

Congratulations Ken Griffey Jr…and thank you.