Junior's 600

To Junior, it must have felt like giving birth after a long and complex labor. Hitting his 600th home run last night was probably the most overpredicted and overdue statistical milepost in baseball history. We've been waiting for this to happen for at least ten years, ever since he put up back-to-back 56 homer seasons for Seattle in '97 and '98. When that season wrapped up, he had 350 career longballs at age 28, becoming the fastest player in history to hit that many, a feat he repeated when he cracked his 400th.

It seemed inevitable that he'd break Ruth and Aaron's career numbers, and we waited for the chase to begin.

Then he left Seattle for his hometown Cincinatti Reds, and even embittered Mariners fans had to acknowledge that the move had a beautiful sort of symmetry: his father had begun his career with the Reds and finished it with the Mariners, and Junior seemed like he'd be following in Dad's footsteps, only in reverse. The Kid has often said his days playing alongside his dad in Seattle were his best, and that his greatest ambition had always been to be just like his dad.

But the fates were unkind to Griff, and that first Reds season of 2000 would be the only one during which he'd remain fully healthy. Up until 2007, this also meant that it would be the only year he'd accumulate more than 500 ABs and play more than 140 games. The story is too long and too sad to tell here, as his destiny turned sour, different parts of his bodies seemingly struck by the same thunderbolts that once resided in his bat.

Age and injury slowed down his bat and his home run pace. He'd only hit 195 more dingers for the Reds before the start of this year, leaving him within only 7 of the hallowed 600, a place where only four other players (Bonds, Aaron, Ruth, and Mays) had reached before him. More importantly, his chase would be one unsullied by PED allegations, a breath of fresh air after Barry Bonds' bittersweet chase for the record books.

Griffey, with his eternal smile and backwards ballcap, seemed to epitomize the ballplayer we'd always wanted to be as a kid. How unsurprising that his two nicknames--"Kid" and "Junior"--would represent this same sort of juvenile identity. Who didn't want to be like Junior, with that sweet swing, swift feet, and gorgeous glove? 

And so, when he finally broke through that 600-homer ceiling last night, the baseball world seemed to exhale along with him. Even if he goes down to another debilitating injury tomorrow and must retire, like the tragic Clemente, having achieved a perfectly round number representing his greatness, he would have at last crossed that long-awaited threshold.

Breaking the 600-homer mark also represents another turning point in his career, since the Reds have more or less openly acknowledged that they wanted him to reach that mark in a Reds uniform--after which he will likely be traded. This is simple baseball economics, the complete opposite of the sentimental sensibilities that carried him home to Cincy, although there's likely a desire to escape the bad juju that the Griffey-Reds reconnection seemed to bring to both teams.

Most speculation has him going to Seattle, where he's expressed a desire to return, and where a fit seems perfect, from both a sentimental and basebal-sensible perspective. Any move will depend on what the Reds can get for him, although they can't expect much for a guy in the final year of his contract. If it's not to Seattle, he ought to be headed to an AL team, as he is a part-time outfielder at best, and the DH (which, IMHO is made for aging players like him, who can still contribute at the plate) should keep him from any more disastrous injuries and focused on climbing the statistical ladder a bit farther.

How far might he go? At 39, he could play for a few more years, so reaching 700 is still a possibility, though I'd be skeptical of him getting a whole lot farther than that, so 750-plus is going to be tough. With 2615 hits, he can also reach 3000 if he can put together 3 or 4 more good seasons. Either--or both--of these marks would be wonderful, wherever he makes them, and anything above that would be gravy. 

It sure would be nice to see the fates turn in Griffey's favor for once, and for all those horribly unfair injuries that happened to him to be repaid with the longevity to overtake Bonds and restore the title to someone with a clean reputation. Ironically, had Griffey resorted to HGH or other drugs to help his rehab, he might have come back sooner from his injuries, or possibly prevented them from happening in the first place.

If there is fairness and goodness in the game, let's hope some of it comes Griffey's way--and for those other Mariners fans out there, let's hope it happens to him in Seattle.