The Roads Less Traveled

As I stated in my first post of this series, I’ve gone to five major league games that didn’t feature the Phillies or the Orioles. I’d like to talk about those games in more detail, as each one was unique. This post will cover the first three games.

 

Mariners @ Cardinals, July 4, 2004: Back in my college days, I was a member of a community service organization called Circle K (the college level of the more familiar Kiwanis). I attended its International Convention in St. Louis, and it marked the first time in my life that I ventured west of the Mississippi River. In the weeks leading up to the big event, members from the Kansas District of Circle K sent a message to all of the convention attendees, inviting anyone who was interested to join them at a Cardinals-Mariners game, taking place directly after hotel checkout on the convention’s final day. Of the hundreds of people who received that invitation, I was the only one to accept. It helped that me and several other members from my home district were staying in St. Louis an extra night.

I met five or six people from the Kansas District, all of them very funny and personable, and we took the short walk to the old Busch Stadium, which was in its final year before the new and current Busch Stadium replaced it. Our seats were in the second-to-last row of the upper deck, but given how hot it was outside, we felt fortunate to sit in the shade. As I was in their home ballpark, and I still heavily favored the National League over the American League at this point in my life, I rooted for the Cardinals, who beat the Mariners, 2-1. However, I also still harbored bitter feelings toward former Phillie, Scott Rolen, so while I cheered for every other Cardinal when they came up to bat, I booed Rolen. He clearly couldn’t hear me from that high in the stratosphere, as he collected two hits and drove in a run. This was the first of four times that I would see the legendary Ichiro Suzuki at a game, and though I didn’t know it at the time, he was in the middle of a historic season that would see him break George Sisler’s all-time record for hits in a season with 262. I saw one of those hits that day. By the way, St. Louis is a cool city, and if you haven’t been, I’d recommend it, especially during July 4th when you’ll see one of the best fireworks displays ever. They’re shot from a ferry on the Mississippi, and if you watch from the Illinois side, the Gateway Arch provides the perfect backdrop.

 

Marlins @ Mets, July 2, 2005: A friend and I had discussed going to a Mets game numerous times, and after four years, we finally pulled it off. Unfortunately, the day was not without its trials and tribulations. I overslept and I got lost trying to find my friend’s house in northern New Jersey. This was, of course, during the days before GPS became widely available. When I finally arrived, we got sidetracked by conversation, as we hadn’t seen each other in more than a year. And with the notorious New York traffic, it took us an hour to get to Queens. By the time we finally got to our seats inside Shea Stadium, the game was already in the bottom of the sixth inning. The Marlins would go on to win 7-3, but that barely seemed to matter. Personally, I was just thrilled to be in the same place The Beatles performed for the first time 40 years earlier. I kept looking just beyond second base, picturing the band on their makeshift stage. I have yet to return to New York to see the Mets, who now play at Citi Field, but I will someday, and I’ll make sure to get there on time.

 

Indians @ Twins, April 20, 2008: As many of you know, I lived in South Dakota for two years after I graduated from college. I can’t say I enjoyed my time out there that much, but the one thing it allowed me to do was attend a Minnesota Twins game, which I did with my fiancée at the time and a friend. Minnesota was one of the last teams in the majors at this point that still played in a cavernous, cookie cutter-style stadium with an Astroturf field, so as we entered the Metrodome, it felt like I’d stepped back in time to the 1980s. The stadium’s domed roof made it more eerie. I had never watched a baseball game indoors, and it almost didn’t feel like I was at a baseball game. Still, I had become familiar with the Twins over the previous year, and I even got to interview their manager, Ron Gardenhire, three months earlier when he and a few other members of the organization visited my town. I was happy to cheer on the home team, and first baseman Justin Morneau made it even more memorable. The game went into extra innings, tied 1-1, and in the bottom of the 10th, Morneau hit a walk-off single to win the game. It was an unlikely hit as well, as Morneau managed to hit a sharp ground ball past the defensive shift on the right side of the infield. After 18 years of going to major league games, that was the first walk-off hit I’d ever seen. Two years later, the Twins would join the 21st century, moving into their new stadium, Target Field.

Part 2 of this series will feature a baseball road trip of sorts to New York and Boston. Stay tuned!

"Because of the kids!"

I would like to share a fond personal memory:

I was a senior in high school as the new millennium approached (at least what the general public considered the new millennium, which as we all know, actually didn’t begin until 2001), and AOL was asking its users what they felt the Song of the Century should be. The classic rock lovers, I among them, weighed in the heaviest on this question. I cast my vote for Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven,” which was running neck-and-neck with Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird.” However, as I kept scrolling down through the votes, I noticed that another song had beaten both by long shot. It was John Lennon’s impassioned, secular call for world peace, “Imagine” and this realization brought an understanding grin to my face.

“Imagine all the people living for today. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one…”

The turn of the millennium brought the dawning of a new era for Major League Baseball. New legends were emerging before our eyes, breaking ancient records at an alarming rate.

None of us wanted to believe at the time that the era we were actually witnessing was created by performance-enhancing drugs. Ten years later, the lie and the disease of steroids are still with us.

It’s gotten to the point when the system of innocent until proven guilty no longer applies. Guilty by association has never been a more damning accusation.

And now over the past year, names have been slowly leaking off a supposedly sealed list of positive tests. Every name that’s revealed is followed by varied reactions on a spectrum with shocking at one end complete lack of surprise on the other.

With all the scandal unfolding, it’s natural for us to keep hanging on to some sense of purity and decency in the game.

There’s not much left to grasp, but the media and fans alike believe with deep conviction that one name still represents innocence and natural ability: Ken Griffey, Jr.

Steroids don’t cause people to fall unconscious, and that’s about the only controversy Griffey has stirred during his 21 years in the big leagues. Given the time during which he played and the astronomical numbers he put up as a member of the Seattle Mariners, he should be thankful that the only pressing questions from reporters are about his snoozing activities in the clubhouse during the late innings.

Fifteen years ago, Griffey, along with Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, helped wake baseball back up from its nap with his explosive blend of power, speed and defense. He also struck endorsement deals with nearly every sports corporation imaginable. If you ate Wheaties or played Super Nintendo, you saw Junior’s face.

And when people finally started asking questions about these hammering heroes, Griffey was the only one whose physical frame still resembled the one from his rookie card.

The heat was on for the beefed up stars by the time Congress got involved in the steroids investigation in 2005. At the now-infamous hearing on steroids in March of that year, no seat was set aside for Griffey, because everyone knew one wasn’t necessary.

Since 2001, Junior has been crippled by countless injuries that have kept him from the production that made him a star in all but one season. One short-term benefit of steroids is that they help the body heal quickly from injuries. As anyone in Cincinnati can tell you, Griffey was hurt more often than he was healthy.

Junior’s descent from prominence reminds me of the movie “Unbreakable.” Griffey almost seemed like Bruce Willis’ superhero character in the 1990s, but his constant trips to the DL over the past decade have transformed him into Samuel L. Jackson’s character, Elijah, a.k.a. Mr. Glass.

Junior exhibits an interesting duality of those opposing forces in the film. He remains a beacon of light through baseball’s dark times, while he physically resembles a figure worn down by a body which can’t function any longer through the demands of his sport.

And what makes Junior so innocent, anyway? We have recently learned that certain kinds of performance-enhancing drugs or infrequent usage of others won’t drastically affect the physical appearance of the athlete taking them. Just ask A-Rod or Manny Ramirez.

The simple fact is Ken Griffey, Jr., just seems to be too much of an upstanding guy to sink to such a level. To our knowledge, he’s never cheated on his wife or made enemies of teammates or the press. He grew up around the game thanks to his father, who didn’t struggle with the personal demons that Bobby Bonds, Barry’s dad, did.

All Junior has to do is look into the camera and flash that smile that continues to remind us of his squeaky clean image, and he’s maintained that image while dealing with both the positives and drawbacks of being a star for more than half his life.

Regardless of whether or not Griffey was napping in the clubhouse during a game a few weeks ago, the veteran certainly sleeps easy at night knowing that he has given the game everything his body would allow, and nothing more.

And as long as his star shines above us baseball fans, we can all rest easy as well.