That’s because Junior’s father, Ken Griffey, was a notable player in his own time.
While dad was playing right field, one of The Great Eight on The Big Red Machine, Junior was a little squirt sneaking into the Riverfront Stadium manager’s office to surreptitiously snag a soft drink out of Sparky Anderson’s mini-fridge.
And when Donora, PA. is mentioned, most fans think of Stan Musial, who was born there. Ken Griffey Sr. was born there, too.
He was brought up by his single mother along with five siblings. Griffey’s father, Buddy, left the family when Griffey was 2-years-old and he never saw his father until he was 16.
Credit: Otto Greule Jr
Credit: Otto Greule Jr
In an odd twist, Buddy Griffey was a baseball teammate of Musial’s at Donora High School.
There is a historical marker for Musial in downtown Donora and there is a street named for the Griffeys.
Galiffa Drive runs alongside the Monongahela River, but it was renamed Ken Griffey Senior & Junior Drive.
“In your own town, it means a lot,” said Senior at the unveiling. “I have to come here every time, just drive right through.”
Senior? That addition wasn’t added to dad’s name until after Junior became one of baseball’s all-time great players.
Senior was pretty much an afterthought draft pick by the Reds in 1969. He was picked in the 29th round. The MLB draft only goes 20 rounds now, so Griffey wouldn’t have been picked under the current system.
The Reds spotted him at one of their tryout camps and couldn’t miss Birdie, his wife to be. During the tryouts, she shagged balls in the outfield.
Senior never reached the level of Junior, but he was an integral part of The Big Red Machine and its World Series championships in 1975 and 1976 after he became the Reds’ every day right fielder in 1975.
Credit: Al Behrman
Credit: Al Behrman
In the 1975 World Series, a seven-game affair with the Boston Red Sox, Griffey batted .289 with four doubles, a triple and eight RBI. He scored the tying and winning runs in Game 7, a 4-3 Reds victory.
His best year, and most controversial, was in 1976. As a line drive hitter with speed, he mostly batted second behind leadoff hitter Pete Rose and ahead of Joe Morgan.
“I knew what my job was,” he said. “When Pete got on ahead of me, which was most of the time, my job was to move him to second or third so Little Joe could drive him in.”
Early in his career, Griffey dressed at the opposite end of the clubhouse from Rose and Morgan, but he was moved to within earshot of Rose and Morgan.
“Their conversations about baseball were unbelievable, the best I ever heard in my life,” Griffey said. “Y’know, Sparky had his Big Four — Pete, Joe, Johnny Bench and Tony Perez. The rest of us had to earn it.”
Griffey more than earned it in 1976 when he hit .336 with 28 doubles, six homers, 76 RBI and 34 stolen bases.
And although he batted between two mega-stars, he nearly won the National League batting title, which is where the controversy surfaces.
On the final day of the season, Griffey led Pittsburgh’s Bill Madlock, .338 to .333. Believing Griffey had the batting title locked away, manager Sparky Anderson talked Griffey into sitting out the game.
Then word reached Cincinnati that Madlock was 3-for-3 against Montreal and inched ahead of Griffey. Anderson rushed Griffey back into the lineup and he went 0-for-2. Madlock finished a 4-for-4 day and won the batting championship, .339 to .336.
Griffey never forgave Anderson for sitting him the last day. Even though the Reds beat the Atlanta Braves that day, 11-1, completing a 102-win division championship season, the mood in the clubhouse was bittersweet in deference to Griffey losing the batting title.
But he took the high road.
“I didn’t lose it, he won it,” said Griffey. “Anybody who goes 4-for-4 on the last day deserves it.”
Credit: Chris Stewart
Credit: Chris Stewart
While he never won a batting title, Griffey was a three-time All-Star and hit above .300 five times for the Reds from 1975 to 1980.
And there was one thing Senior did better than Junior. Senior could run like Usain Bolt. He was timed at 3.5 seconds from home to first, Japanese bullet train speed.
He had 141 hits in 1975 and 38 never left the infield and for some reason he believed those were cheap hits and didn’t like to talk about them or be asked about them.
In addition to his offensive efficiencies, Griffey worked diligently to become a defensive asset in right field. With his speed he needed to be more aggressive. Coach George Scherger worked with him nearly every day in 1975, hitting him thousands of fly balls, line drives and ground balls.
“When I first got here I was afraid of making mistakes and errors,” he said. “Then I didn’t because George Scherger was always reminding me to be aggressive. I learned the importance of fielding. I knew that if I had a bad day at the plate, I could make up for it in the field. I wanted to be a complete ballplayer who could hit and also play defense.”
Perhaps Griffey was afraid to repeat a game he played for Class A Sioux Falls. His team led, 3-2, with two outs and two on base against St. Cloud.
A batter hit a fly ball to right and Griffey gloved it, but knocked it over the fence. It was ruled a four-base error and Sioux Falls lost, 7-3.
Griffey often talked about it with a broad smile.
“I tried to make the catch and knocked the ball over the fence,” said Griffey. “The pitcher (Al Faix) quit the next day and went home. I never heard from him again.”
But Reds fans certainly heard from Griffey and they heard from him time and time again.
About the Author