Drayer: Ken Griffey Jr. used his powers for good

COOPERSTOWN – Today is the day. There was never a doubt that we would see Ken Griffey Jr. welcomed into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Today we will see the celebration of a remarkable career, one of the best in the history of the game. There was never a doubt over which cap Griffey would wear, he himself said the choice was obvious. When he steps to the podium he will represent not only the Mariners but the fans as well.

Driving around Cooperstown Saturday, it struck me just how nice it was to see so many fans in Griffey and Mariners jerseys. This organization has not had much to celebrate in the last 14 years but to travel to the other side of the country, to the absolute middle of a most beautiful nowhere called Cooperstown, and to see Junior fans, Mariners fans, on every street corner and at every turn has been special. Once again, Griffey is putting the eyes of baseball on Seattle and the Mariners, a spotlight I have no doubt he is happy to share.

For me, this day is special. In this business, a requirement is to keep a professional cool. You stay unbiased, and you certainly are not a fan of a team. I came from the unique background of being a fan one day and, with no warning, in the business the next. It really wasn’t hard to drop the fan side. People have a hard time understanding that, and the best I can explain it is I am now a fan of the game – my appreciation even deeper than it was before I had the behind-the-scenes access. I also gained a greater appreciation for Griffey.

By the numbers: Mariners great Ken Griffey Jr’s Hall of Fame career

My first Griffey encounters came in 1998 as a glorified intern with limited opportunities to get to the ballpark. My highlight was setting foot on the Kingdome turf. I finally got as close to the game as I possibly could – the goal I set when I first fell in love with the game. The most exciting experience came after the games. I helped with the post-game show, which was broadcast from a tiny room behind home plate. When the show ended, we had to exit from the center field gates so we had to – or, rather, got to – walk across the field and through the center field wall. We would step from the tiny room into the dark Kingdome with only the service lights on. We would cross home plate, touch second base and walk out toward the outfield. Every night when I got about three-quarters of the way to the wall, I would turn around, look back at home plate and think to myself in awe, “This is what Ken Griffey Jr. sees every night.”

Years later, I would get the opportunity to know Ken better. My experience as a reporter is not unique. He got to know all of us. You have probably heard about Ken holding court at his locker. What you haven’t heard is those conversations were two-way. He would ask about us, get to know us, as well. I remember one time having the opportunity to spend some time away from the field with Ken and his wife, Melissa, and another reporter. Ken didn’t just introduce us to Melissa, he also told her stories about us. Not just the things he had seen with us around the team, but stories we had told him. A reporter can sometimes be about the equivalent of a piece of furniture in a clubhouse, but Griffey never looked through or beyond anyone. The clubhouse was his domain and everyone who entered it – teammates, coaches, staff, reporters – fell under his watch. And in that clubhouse, he wanted everyone happy. He was incredibly empathetic, and anyone who entered the clubhouse displaying stress or sadness would get his attention. He wouldn’t make a show of it, he wouldn’t ask what was wrong. He would just do something to try and make that person smile or relax.

Roger Hansen, who is a special assistant now with the Mariners and was hand-chosen to be Griffey’s first roommate when he entered professional baseball, put it best when he said, “It was everything that he did, he tried to look at people. He was always watching, very alert, trying to help people.”

If you haven’t read the Larry Stone article about Junior and the Make-a-Wish kids, do. It tells you about the person he was and is. Knowing how Griffey could turn around one of my mundane bad days helps me realize just how great a gift it was that gave his time to these kids and their families. Imagine being the kid getting the full Griffey treatment. Imagine the parents who have been through the hell of having a sick or dying child having a couple hours of relief seeing their child happily playing with his or her hero. In these cases, hero is a very deserved title.

But it wasn’t just the kids. There are so many stories from the clubhouse. Taking pains to make sure his jersey and flowers made it in time to the funeral of the father of a cameraman who was a fan. Taking care of the minor leaguers and younger players by buying meals and suits. Pulling Ichiro back into the pack, allowing him to show a looser side with the tickling episodes. Taking Felix Hernandez in to watch video after a disastrous start in Minnesota. Buying lobster for the entire team the night before he made the drive to Montana.

Then there is the time Griffey got Michael Saunders a pink bat. That’s one of my favorite Griffey stories.

Saunders was called up a couple of days before the pink-bat game. It was well known to fans and some teammates that Saunders’ mom, who has since passed away, was battling breast cancer. When I welcomed him back at his locker, I asked Saunders if he would be swinging a pink bat for his mom. He told me that, unfortunately, they had been ordered much earlier in the year and he did not have one. I knew immediately what to do. I went to Ken’s locker and told him the story. He got out his phone, called his bat company and the bats for Saunders arrived the next day. He did these things all the time. I like to say that Griffey uses his powers for good.

For good, or for fun. I guess it is safe for full disclosure right now. Remember when the entire team got on the plane wearing ties with Don Wakamatsu’s face on it? That was my idea. It happened in spring training. Wak was new and the guys were grousing about the new tie policy on the plane. I was just getting to know Ken. I had heard the stories about his practical jokes. I’d heard Griffey liked to have fun and was very mischievous. I speak that language. I approached him with the idea and a few days later a box arrived at his locker. While I may have had the idea, the execution and creativity was all his. And it was brilliant. Fifty white silk ties with a smiling Don Wakamatsu on the front silk-screened in Mariners blue. Everyone in the traveling party got one and, one-by-one, myself included, we entered the plane walking by Wak in the very front row wearing the tie with his likeness on it. Wak got a good laugh out of it and the ties kept coming. There was one with Griffey on it, of course. There was also an Ichiro tie and a “special edition” Ikkyu tie – Ikkyu, of course, being Ichiro’s dog.

When it comes to Griffey, I have never found it hard to separate the person from the player. In fact, I have had to remind myself from time to time that this is the greatest player of our generation. His play deserves that respect. But for every magnificent feat he had on the field – and if you are asking, the sprint from first to home on the Edgar double is how I always envision him as a player, which is crazy considering what he did with the bat and the glove but I never saw a player fly like that – he was so much more than just a great ballplayer in Seattle. Seattle and baseball were lucky to have him.

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