COMMENTARY : Griffey Jr. a Natural at Being Baseball’s New Star Attraction

It is not true that the skies parted and Ken Griffey Jr. floated down on a cloud, nor that a voice of a prophet came out of an Iowa cornfield and told of the coming of the perfect ballplayer, one who would dominate the national pastime during the last decade of the 20th Century.

But such cosmic entrances might have been appropriate given the real-life achievements of Junior Griffey, 20, a center fielder with the Seattle Mariners, who began his second season as American League Player of the Month for April.

Not even halfway into May, Junior, still the youngest player in the big leagues, is hitting .357 with five home runs and 20 runs batted in. Out of respect normally reserved for veteran sluggers, he has been intentionally walked twice this season with runners on first and third.

Already, he is the cornerstone of the franchise and darling of Seattle. Twenty-thousand pens were given out on “Ken Griffey Pen Night,” and they already are worth $20 each to collectors. Few would argue that he is baseball’s most salable commodity of the ‘90s.

Junior is built like Darryl Strawberry, plays like Willie Mays, hustles like Pete Rose and is as dedicated to excelling as Carl Yastrzemski and his blistered and bleeding hands. Even now this Junior achiever is being measured for the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y. Many suggest that he only has to put in 20 years and his inevitable statistics will make his election automatic.

“Junior’s the best prospect I’ve ever seen,” Seattle Manager Jim Lefebvre said. “I’ve told our coaches, ‘We’re going to be able to go through our lives and say we were there at the start of Ken Griffey Jr.’s career, a once-in-a-lifetime kid to come along.’ He is so far ahead of his talent, it’s frightening. He’s got God-given instincts.”

Mariner batting Coach Gene Clines said, “There isn’t a pitch he can’t hit. I’ve never seen him in a slump. He adjusts like a 10-year veteran. Without a doubt he’s a God-given natural. The scary part is what he’ll be accomplishing when he’s 25 years old.”

It begins in the genes. His father, Ken Griffey, is winding down a fine career (.297 lifetime hitter) with the Cincinnati Reds, making the Griffeys the first father-son act performing in the majors at the same time in baseball history.

Ken, who now refers to himself as “The Original Griffey,” said, “Kenny is impressive in all the five important categories in the game (hitting for average, hitting with power, running, throwing, fielding). It just doesn’t make sense for someone to have that much talent. Watching him play is almost frightening.”

There is a sixth category everyone is watching: Junior’s ability to handle his onrushing celebrity that is growing into a monster with every breath. It began in the Class-A California League when the club held an unprecedented poster night for him and sold out the ballpark. When he would go to the plate, the public address announcer would ask, “What time is it?” The crowd would respond, “Griffey Time.”

In this first major league at-bat, he doubled. In his first at-bat in the Kingdome, he homered. In his first pinch-hitting appearance, he homered. By the end of his 1989 rookie season he had his own candy bar with his image on the wrapper (which is ironic because his only known flaw is being allergic to chocolate).

Fans also could have their choice of five Griffey posters and two Griffey T-shirts. He more than doubled his $68,000 salary with royalties from his off-the-field ventures. He is on the cover of Sports Illustrated and has a book due out soon.

His love for the game is all-consuming. He usually is at the ballpark as many as five hours before game time. He skitters about mischievously, teasing and trading insults with his older teammates and is a card-game kibitzer. He wears a fixed wide smile and Christmas morning excited eyes and swings a can’t-wait bat at imaginary pitches. With his cap on backward, his pant legs reaching his ankles and his giddy air, he reminds one of some hotshot dude at the drive-in after a softball game.

He was a leading Rookie of the Year candidate last season, batting .287 with 13 homers and 45 RBIs, when he broke his hand in a fall in a Chicago hotel room in August. He missed four weeks. “When he returned he tried to make up the lost time and began swinging for the fences,” Lefebvre said. Griffey finished with a .264 average, 16 homers and 61 RBIs.

He has a youngster’s fascination for automobiles. He is driving his third BMW. The current one has $8,000 of stereo equipment that includes 14 speakers. And, of course, a cellular phone.

Junior phones his dad, his mother, Bertie, and his brother, Craig, every day. A $600 monthly phone bill is routine. Craig is enrolled at Ohio State, where he is a defensive back. The family is very close. Ken visited Kenny three times when their schedules permitted last season. Last month, when both the Reds and Mariners were playing in New York, Ken saw Kenny rob Jesse Barfield of a home run with a spectacular catch. “I was stunned like everyone else in the stands,” Ken said.

Ken did not push his son into baseball. “He plays the game with such ease and has so much fun with it,” Ken said. He believes that Kenny’s lack of awe of the big leagues has helped his development. He grew up in the Reds’ locker room in the 1970s when the Big Red Machine was winning two world championships. The sons of those players included Pete Rose Jr., Eduardo and Victor Perez, Lee May Jr. and Brian McRae. They were called the “Little Red Machine.” By the time Kenny was 11, Ken could no longer strike him out.

In interviews, his voice barely audible, Junior said, “Only thing dad ever told me was to go out and have fun. Whatever happens, happens. Stay out of trouble and be a good kid. . . . Playing in the big leagues while my father is still active is the biggest thrill of my life. I try to see him play whenever I can.”

Junior holds no awe of big league pitching. “I’ve been swinging the same way since I was born. It’s always worked. Why change now?”