Mariner Center Fielders Throughout the Years

I was a huge Griffey fan in 1995. I was 10 years old and lived in Indiana, so didn’t have much opportunity to see games live at the stadium and watch my favorite players. However, my Mom got tickets for a Mariners game against the White Sox in Chicago.

The very day, one day, before we were set to go to the game and I was going to see Ken Griffey Jr. and Frank Thomas, this injury occurred. I didn’t find out until the next morning. I woke up from dreams of seeing Griffey hit homers and make dazzling catches, only to have them crushed as my Mom had to break the news to me that he broke his wrist and was going to be injured for awhile, so we wouldn’t get to see him.

Needless to say, I balled my eyes out. We still went to the game and I got to see Frank Thomas. I was a little kid, so I didn’t even think I was much aware of Edgar Martinez. That didn’t come until later in the year. Watching the game was an enjoyable experience, but I sure missed Griffey.

Years later in my teen years when I had lost interest in sports and become cynical, I went with my family to a Cincinnati Reds game. I casually arched an eyebrow at the thought of being able to see Junior play, but then I was told that he was (of course) on the disabled list and probably wouldn’t be in the game. “Figures,” I thought. But we went to the game and I enjoyed myself, anyways. In the 9th inning with the Reds trailing, the unexpected actually happened.

Ken Griffey Jr. came up to the plate to pinch hit. I think it was in a situation where a home run would change the game, either tie it or give the Reds the win. I watched attentively. I was finally getting to see my favorite baseball player as a kid live and in person. Well, wouldn’t you know it, Griffey struck out.

And that was pretty much the death knell in the coffin when it came to my childhood love for baseball. At least, it was an incapacitating blow that would leave me feeling cold for years to come.

Fast forward all the way to 2008. I’m long out of school and merely flipping the channels on my TV, looking for something to watch. Suddenly, something catches my eye. It’s Ken Griffey Jr., batting for the White Sox. Though I had little interest, I had heard that Junior had been traded to Chicago. Now, I might have flipped the channel and not even bothered to really watch Griffey bat, but the announcer noted that “this may be the final at-bat of Ken Griffey Jr.’s career.”

That stopped me from switching the channel. Though I had practically no interest in baseball at the time, I still remembered missing Griffey at my very first live Major League Baseball game at a stadium. I still remembered Griffey striking out with the game on the line when I was teenager. And I suddenly found myself rooting for Ken. “Come on,” I thought. “Don’t let me down this time. If this is your last at-bat, go out in style and hit a homer! Let my final memory of you be a good one!”

Well, as fate would have it, Ken Griffey Jr., yet again, struck out. I switched the channel, disappointed. But, I didn’t forget. And in the off-season, when word had it that Ken Griffey Jr. was not retiring, but was in fact coming back to the Seattle Mariners, a big part of me was surprisingly elated. I awaited the new season with the intent of actually watching baseball and the Mariners again. And that’s how my fandom was rekindled.

And now, I’m as big of a Mariners fan as I’ve ever been, even if things are different than in the “glory days” of ’95.

Curse the strike and those injuries