For the last few weeks I’ve been referring to this Sunday as “going to see Griffey.” I’ve asked several of the people I know that also regularly go to Mariners games whether they’re “going to see Griffey.”
At least one is going to see him on the day we’re going up. She bought tickets in center field so she can be near him.
I remember exactly when I heard that he was leaving, I was working at a bank at the time, just before I’d graduated college as was headed back to being a reporter. I was setting up an employee event at a golf club, and I heard it over the radio. The folks there drug out a boom box and set it up so we could listen to the coverage.
Since then, my memories of the Mariners have been colored by the absence of Griffey. 2001 happened despite not having Griffey (or A-Rod or Randy Johnson).
Our falling down the stairs since then has been paralleled by Griffey’s own trip down the stairs.
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