Coming To Grips With Ken Griffey Jr.’s Impending Retirement
Often times in journalism we tend to settle for objectivity when passion is more apt for the situation.
So when we hear the realists and the fact-mongers going off about Ken Griffey, Jr. and his all-but-sealed fate — retirement — it can sting those of us who lack the objective nature to evaluate a passionate situation through a gray lens.
If you grew up in the late-’80s and early-’90s in Seattle, chances are you formed a bond with Ken Griffey, Jr. that cannot be evaluated by any statistic or rational explanation. We all know that Junior has a special relationship with the people of this region, but none moreso than with the children who idolized him during a period of mutual growth.
While we were in elementary school and junior high, The Kid was a babyfaced teenager roaming the Astroturf outfield of the Kingdome. As we evolved, so did he. And together we endured life on separate plains, albeit in close proximity to one another.
He was a superstar, a millionaire, a budding legend. He had his own shoe, a video game, even a candy bar. He hit home runs, won MVP awards, and struck fear into men twice his age.
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