The Way It's Supposed To Be

It's a beautiful thing really. When I look at the numbers I can't help but smile, and think to myself "this is how it's supposed to work, how it's supposed to happen." He's swinging away, with a batting average of .211, with ten home runs, with a paltry 27 RBI. He's 39 now, and we've watched him since he was 19. We saw his rise, his era of dominance. We thought "that's how it's supposed to be" when he made his triumphant return home, and then we hurt with him when it didn't work out in fairy tale fashion. Now he's back to his first home, and he's doing it the right way.

If you never followed Ken Griffey Jr. closely, if you don't remember him when he was "The Kid" then perhaps this makes little difference to you. But he is, as Princess Leia would tell Ben Kenobi, "our only hope." One by one every epic slugger from his generation has fallen. McGwire won't talk about the past. Sosa can't speak English under pressure, and tested positive in 2003. Bonds' head is three times the size it was when he was first winning MVPs. A-Rod and Manny fell this year as well, one to the 2003 tests, and the other to his thirst for female fertility drugs. Palmerio, one of the few 3,000 hit, 500 HR men in baseball history tested positive shortly after telling Congress he never had, and never would use steroids. These men fell under the pressure to be the best, the desire to make more money and extend their careers. Somehow, it would seem, Griffey rose above it all.

All of this is a moot point if he ends up being tied to PEDs, but I can't believe he will. He drop off was far too steep, far too real for someone who was cheating. Look at Bonds, and his numbers from age 35 on: they are otherworldly. Griffey, the one who was always there, always the next legend, became very human at just the right time. He took the pay cut to go "back home" to Cincinnati, the place he saw his father win it all (it might seem crazy to praise Jr. for taking less when he still made over $100 million, but consider that he could have made twice that on the open market and it does come into focus). And from there on out the wheels fell off.

Griffey hit at least 40 home runs seven times in his big league career, but none of them occurred after he turned 31. He won 9 Gold Glove awards for his stellar defense in center field, but none after he turned 30. He limped into a few All Star games after 30, but only because the fans wanted him there. Griffey's career breaks drastically into two eras: 1989-1999 and 2000-2009. In the first he was "The Kid," and he was good enough to be named to baseball's All-Century team in 1999. He was epic, an icon. In the second era he was injured constantly; quite frankly, his legs gave out on him. He struggled to stay healthy, and along with his legs went his defensive prowess, his power, his average ... just about everything.

He was just never right after leaving Seattle for Cincinnati. He took less to go to his father's team, but never got the magic, and never won. Last year he finally, after a few years of trade rumors, accepted a trade to the South Side of Chicago, but he hit only 3 home runs in over 40 games there, and was out of the post-season almost before it began. And this off season, when faced with the choice of more money and the weaker NL pitching with the Braves, or going back home, Griffey did what we all long to do. He went home. He went back where there was a fan base that would appreciate him, that would support him, that would embrace him. Even in his current state, Seattle looks at Griffey and sees The Kid, not the old man he has become.

And when you think about it, this is how it's supposed to happen, this is how a legend realistically can go out. When you ask a 39 year old to hang it up, end his career, and move into retirement you can't expect it to be pretty. Sports history is peppered with instances of all time greats who can't leave on top. And baseball, in particular, illustrates this trend brilliantly.

Looking at baseball's most sacred fraternity, the 600 home run club, really shows you all you need to know. Bonds and Sosa have joined the 600 home run club, but neither of them are clean, and as such I won't consider them here. When you look at the other 3 members, the big three, then it becomes more apparent:Hank Aaron's last year saw him hit .229, Willie Mays hit .211 in his final year, and Babe Ruth hit only .181 on his way out. When seen in this context, Griffey fits in just right, sitting right with Mays at .211. That Griffey was humble enough to take this road, a road which, in the steroids era, was most certainly the road less taken ... we were blessed to see this, even if we don't yet appreciate it. He could have juiced, he could have gone the route Bonds did. Both of these men were all time greats without steroids; only one decided that being among the greatest was enough. Griffey could have fallen in with the other sluggers of his era, and he might have hit 800 home runs. Look at his career numbers; if you factor in the quicker recovery time and training benefits into his 2000-2009 stats it isn't that crazy of an idea. But then he wouldn't be an all time great: he'd be a cheat. Appreciate Griffey while you can, because he has done it with class, and there aren't too many like him left.