AirForceBuck
No mercy
The man has got the skills. It just sucks to know that he wont retire as an Ohioan (Cincy Red) when its all said and done.Jaxbuck said:
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BuckeyePride85 said:
I disagree. Carl Linder won't trade him on his watch he's already stated as much. If the new group coming in gets there way they will pump $85 million into payroll to add to JR and Dunn.
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crazybuckfan40
Head Coach
Yes Griffey is a stud no doubt. I for one hope that management sees that and if they are going to trade him they better get a whole lot for him.
I just find it funny that you don't see all those griffey bashers out there that you did. So quick to knock someone when they are down.
I just find it funny that you don't see all those griffey bashers out there that you did. So quick to knock someone when they are down.
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HOF crediationals not in question. If he plays 5 more years and retains his health he could finish with:
700 HR (4th all time)
3000+ hits (Top 25 all time)
1900+ RBI (Top 10 all time)
700 HR (4th all time)
3000+ hits (Top 25 all time)
1900+ RBI (Top 10 all time)
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0
He's put together a solid year this year, too. Even with the injuries, he could've retired at the beginning of this year and still been a first-ballot HOFer. Anybody who questions his HOF credentials in an idiot.
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Perfect140
Banned
great guy
yeah griffey is a great guy and hes posting up great numbers this year now that hes healthy: .303 BA, 33 HR's and 90 RBI's
yeah griffey is a great guy and hes posting up great numbers this year now that hes healthy: .303 BA, 33 HR's and 90 RBI's
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Link
7/4
Trey might be a future Buckeye
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width="100%"> <tbody><tr><td align="left" valign="top" width="65%">NFL: BENGALS: Leather and lace; Father and son
</td> <td colspan="9" rowspan="2" align="center" valign="center" width="35%">
</td> </tr> <tr> <td class="subtitularNoticia" valign="top">
</td> </tr> </tbody> </table> /noticias.info/ It turns out The Kid’s kid is a linebacker who prefers hitting scat backs instead of sliders.
At least right now at 5-4 and 110 pounds of 12 years old.
Trey Griffey The First, scion of baseball’s most storied father and son catch, is more likely to spend time with his dad watching tapes of Chad Johnson catching footballs. Or Rudi Johnson running. Or Willie Anderson blocking. As everyone knows, The Kid never kids around when it comes to his kids.
“I like Big Willie; a soft giant,” muses Trey’s Dad, Ken Griffey Jr., as Cincinnati’s mobile Hall of Fame exhibit relaxes in the Reds locker room in proving yet again baseball and football are so different and so similar.
It is less than two hours before the first pitch at Great American Ball Park against the Indians and less than 24 hours since Griffey has continued his Flying Gig Marathon with Homer No. 552. It is also about a day before No. 553, putting him 10 behind the top 10 and Reginald Martinez Jackson.
“Chad and I traded jerseys,” says Griffey, who sits on a foot locker at the entrance of the Reds locker room to hold court with all comers. “I wrote on it, ‘No. 3 can cover No. 85.’ He wrote on his, ‘To Trey, 7-11, Chad Johnson.’ ”
It has taken Griffey 18 seasons of being on the open road every day to close in on the Yankees’ No. 44. The same number of seasons it took Jerry Rice to set the one all-time NFL record that awes Griffey.
Total yards from scrimmage.
“Being able to come out of the backfield; run the ball, catch the ball, block,” Griffey says. “Marshall Faulk. Emmitt. Walter. I’ve always been a fan of the pancake block. You can rewind it and see it right there.”
But there is no record for pancake blocks. And that seems to be the point of a man who says his 500th didn’t mean as much as watching his son leave the football field “bawling his eyes out,” while he joins the great ones like Yaz, Banks, Clemens, Molitor and Randy Johnson trying to put a ring with a plaque.
“For me, I’m more a team guy than individual accomplishments,” Griffey says.
And, you just can’t compare football and baseball.
Or can you?
It took Rice eight seasons to go from No. 10 on the all-time list to pass Emmitt Smith for No. 1 in scrimmage yards. Griffey came into this season 13th on the all-time homers list and 20 more this season puts him eighth on the list ahead of Harmon Killebrew’s 573.
So up here on Olympus, is Griffey better in his sport than Favre or Manning or Jimmy Brown?
“I don’t know. We argue about it all the time,” Griffey says of his regular Monday night crowd in Orlando, Fla., that watches the game at a local establishment. “It’s the only time during the week everyone really gets out and we have the best debates.”
So.
Are 20,000 total yards as good as 553 homers?
(Make that 554 after Monday’s solo opposite-field jack in Milwaukee, the football equivalent of a cut-back run.)
“Yeah, because of the punishment they had to take getting those yards,” Griffey says.
Griffey shares the big-league record with homers in eight straight games. Is that as good as Johnny Unitas throwing a touchdown pass in 47 straight games, the play in football Griffey says is closest to a homer?
“That’s like throwing back-to-back no-hitters. How many guys have even thrown (in) 30?” Griffey asks. “It’s like 56 straight scoreless innings. Things like that. You just look at them and go, ‘wow.’ Some of the stuff that people have done in the past are like Bugs Bunny numbers. You don’t think about those kind of numbers.”
We are able to have this discussion so close to the first pitch just because baseball is so different. The only thing one can hear in the Bengals locker room two hours before a game is the flush of a toilet.
Before a Reds game, you can ask Bronson Arroyo about helping the Red Sox win the World Series (“Very cool”), you can ask Adam Dunn who is going to be his first draft pick in his fantasy football league (Kansas City running back Larry Johnson), and check in on a World Cup game, city council, or Paris Hilton on a bank of TVs.
Where else in a baseball locker room can you hear the unmistakable voice of Hall of Fame announcer Marty Brennaman needle a fellow future Hall of Famer in Griffey and a wayward, obscure media soul in the same clause.
“We must be winning,” Dunn says, and that’s part of it, too.
And, where else can you can ask a first-ballot Hall of Famer what the difference is between football and baseball? In football, you need an act of Congress (or a network rights deal) to get an interview this long with Favre or Manning.
“No, it’s not that,” says Griffey of the fact ballplayers play games every day. “It’s the same thing. It’s about going out and having fun. That’s just the football persona.”
This is a Monday Night debate and a family argument. You know where Griffey’s brother, Craig, a former Ohio State defensive back, comes down.
“What’s more impressive?” asks Griffey of the consecutive games record in each sport. “Cal Ripken’s streak or Brett Favre’s streak? I say baseball. He says football. My argument is (Favre) gets to hand the ball off.”
Griffey takes the majority view that hitting a homer is harder. And he says even though a touchdown pass is the closest thing to a homer.
“But (hitting a homer) is really quick. Most of he time, as soon as you hit it, you know pretty well and it’s ‘Ah,’ it’s just a matter of the ball going into the seats,” he says.
“But for a running back, he has to be able to make a couple of cuts, see the opening, and then accelerate. That’s all exciting. The most exciting play in baseball is a triple, or a guy scoring from first. In football, it’s the kick return or punt return for a touchdown, or the interception in the middle of the field where he has to make a couple of guys miss.”
In the end, he shrugs.
Can’t compare.
Maybe the closest thing to a homer for Moeller High School’s old standout wide receiver isn’t a TD pass, but a TD catch. The NFL record is 13 straight games catching a touchdown.
“Oh, that’s Jerry Rice,” Griffey says correctly. “But no one was trying to decapitate me while I did it (eight straight games with a homer). ... Clemens didn’t throw at me. Ryan didn’t throw at me.”
If it sounds like Griffey is an NFL aficionado, he is. A football Sunday at home in the offseason in Orlando is when he pulls out the barbecue, has some friends over, and they retreat to the room with three TVs.
“The NFL package has already been purchased,” he says.
But one of the greatest offensive players in baseball history would probably prefer a 17-14 game decided by a punt return.
Although, a 35-3 rout isn’t bad.
“I’m a football fan. I like good teams,” Griffey says. “I want to see somebody blow somebody out or I want to see a game where ain’t nobody going to give up nothing. Where it’s all field position.
“I play X-Box and I’ve got a friend who constantly plays with the Bengals. I’ve got one who always plays with the Jaguars. Another with Atlanta. I’m the guy that plays with five different teams. Even though it’s just X-Box, I can’t play with the Cowboys because I’ll still get mad if I lose.”
Griffey has never hid from the fact he was never an all-out Bengals fan growing up, maybe because when Griffey Sr.’s “Big Red Machine” shared the river with them, the Bengals were grinding gears between the Paul Brown and Forrest Gregg regimes.
The Cowboys were the draw even then because Griffey’s uncle played against future Dallas running back Tony Dorsett in high school and Griffey got into the fact that their quarterback, Roger Staubach, grew up in Cincinnati.
“That was something I could relate to,” says Griffey, who has to dodge the Steelers question with his family, a Donora, Pa., clan soaked in black and gold.
“To this day, I’m still the only non-Pittsburgh fan in my family,” he says. “Ooh, I stay neutral on that one. It’s kind of tough. I say you have to change once in a while. But when they won the Super Bowl last year, it didn’t help my cause.”
But maybe, just maybe, The Kid’s kid is helping Dad favor stripes instead of the star. Like his father, Trey doesn’t have a favorite team, but favorite players. Chad Johnson is No. 1 and Griffey, armed with the number of the Chad Cell, has enjoyed getting to know him.
They had a good time a few weeks ago when the Bengals came over to take batting practice before the Reds beat the Brewers in a Business Day Special.
“I’m going to send him a note,” Griffey says. “Two-thirds of the earth is covered by water, the other third by me. Trey’s so quiet. His eyes were wide. ‘That’s Chad?’ and I told him to shake his hand. Chad tried to lighten him up.”
Griffey, always good to Bengals.com, is delighted the Bengals and Reds are getting closer. In the pre-GABP days, his appearance on the Paul Brown Stadium underwater treadmill to help a rehab spurred things along.
“We should want to have the best baseball team, the best college basketball teams, the best football teams in our town,” Griffey says.
But when Griffey goes asking ESPN for those five-minute clips to teach Trey the game, he’s looking for more than Chad.
“Some of the things I try to teach my son I like to show him certain players. Rudi has a gift. He’s going to go at you as hard as he can,” he says. “Chad, it’s his athleticism. Big Willie on blocking. Ray Lewis on tackling. Deion on (pass) coverage.”
In fact, he told Sanders no thanks, but he’ll get other tackling videos. Trey runs the ball on offense, but Griffey also has him studying Big Willie as well as Rudi.
“At some point he’ll have to block somebody, so learn to do it,” Griffey says. “See what you do when you don’t have the ball. You’ve got to learn proper technique. We’ve got (tape) of Willie coming out (on a sweep) in front of the running back. Things like that we break down. How he positions himself to make that block. You have to be in the right position and I want to show him the right way.”
At the moment, Griffey admits they bond more over football than baseball. Trey is beginning to show more interest in baseball, with the telltale sign the family recently returned to Orlando in the middle of a homestand for back-to-back double-headers.
But Griffey knows a football mentality when he sees it. He blames himself for getting Trey and daughter Taryn motorcycles when they were five and three, respectively. When he saw Trey play defense, he said to himself, “Oh-oh.”
“The adrenaline you get from those extreme sports doesn’t really relate to baseball,” Griffey says. “He’s got the football mindset. He’s the only five-year starter. Most seven-year-olds don’t start. When I saw him play defense, I knew. Sometimes he lets up when he could just absolutely crush them and I get mad and tell him, ‘They’re trying to hit you like that.’ ”
Being The Kid’s kid isn’t all that different from being Senior’s Junior 30 years ago. Griffey says he treats Trey, 10-year-old Taryn and four-year-old Tevin the way he was treated. Be a kid. Play all the games you can, and then make up your mind.
The quickest way to Griffey’s heart is his kids. He does everything with them. Playing h-o-r-s-e with basketball prodigy Taryn (“She’s beat me a few times with a college 3”), teaching tennis to Tevin (“He likes to hit it over the net around the court not the one in the middle”) and X-ing and O-ing with Trey.
The strategy is one of the things that attracts Griffey to the NFL. “The behind-the-scenes, up in the booth, using plays to set up something for the next series,” he says.
“Tendencies. When a pitcher has success against you, he’s going to go with what has worked for him.”
He says Bengals head coach Marvin Lewis has invited them up for a game, and the prospect of being that close may have his father just as excited as the son.
One time in front of Pro Football Hall of Fame tight end Kellen Winslow, Griffey says he put his football enthusiasm on display during one of Trey’s games. Before the ball was snapped on each play of a drive and knowing the down and distance, Griffey predicted each play after watching so many games.
Of course, he knew there weren’t going to be many passes.
“Not when you give up seven touchdowns all year,” Griffey says.
And, he could have added, when you have a Larkin handing the ball to a Griffey on offense. Shane Larkin, Griffey figures, scored 25 touchdowns while Trey scored 17.
“Shane’s sport is basketball. Flat out, like Byron,” says Griffey of Shane’s uncle, the former Xavier University great. “They’re figuring it out. Their dads are friends. Barry and I were teammates, too. During football, they’re always together. They sit together on the bench. Trey wears No. 3, Shane wears No. 2.”
Twelve-year-old boys don’t talk, but Trey talks to his dad, whose lasting legacy will no doubt be he chased the homer record drug free in The Steroid Era. When Trey asked him once what ‘roids do, Griffey didn’t have to tell him much, and he doesn’t worry that if he pursues football he’ll be seduced by artificial enhancements.
“He went, ‘Eeew,’ ” Griffey says. “He doesn’t like needles. Neither does his dad.
“He’s a pretty smart kid. He asks about guys who get busted and if I know them. He understands he doesn’t want his name associated with (the wrong) things.”
The name and doing it right are the lessons being taught over a football. When Griffey saw Trey walking off the field, helmet and tears in hand after a loss, he says that gave him more satisfaction than becoming one of the 20 men to hit 500 homers.
“Because I know that he cares,” he says. “I want to see that he cares about what he’s doing. If he didn’t care, it means he doesn’t want to do it.”
Now it’s about 90 minutes before the first pitch and Griffey slides off the trunk as the chatter subsides and the game beckons.
Maybe baseball and football aren’t all that different. Or the same.
Like fathers and sons.
7/4
Trey might be a future Buckeye
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width="100%"> <tbody><tr><td align="left" valign="top" width="65%">NFL: BENGALS: Leather and lace; Father and son
</td> <td colspan="9" rowspan="2" align="center" valign="center" width="35%">
</td> </tr> <tr> <td class="subtitularNoticia" valign="top">
</td> </tr> </tbody> </table> /noticias.info/ It turns out The Kid’s kid is a linebacker who prefers hitting scat backs instead of sliders.
At least right now at 5-4 and 110 pounds of 12 years old.
Trey Griffey The First, scion of baseball’s most storied father and son catch, is more likely to spend time with his dad watching tapes of Chad Johnson catching footballs. Or Rudi Johnson running. Or Willie Anderson blocking. As everyone knows, The Kid never kids around when it comes to his kids.
“I like Big Willie; a soft giant,” muses Trey’s Dad, Ken Griffey Jr., as Cincinnati’s mobile Hall of Fame exhibit relaxes in the Reds locker room in proving yet again baseball and football are so different and so similar.
It is less than two hours before the first pitch at Great American Ball Park against the Indians and less than 24 hours since Griffey has continued his Flying Gig Marathon with Homer No. 552. It is also about a day before No. 553, putting him 10 behind the top 10 and Reginald Martinez Jackson.
“Chad and I traded jerseys,” says Griffey, who sits on a foot locker at the entrance of the Reds locker room to hold court with all comers. “I wrote on it, ‘No. 3 can cover No. 85.’ He wrote on his, ‘To Trey, 7-11, Chad Johnson.’ ”
It has taken Griffey 18 seasons of being on the open road every day to close in on the Yankees’ No. 44. The same number of seasons it took Jerry Rice to set the one all-time NFL record that awes Griffey.
Total yards from scrimmage.
“Being able to come out of the backfield; run the ball, catch the ball, block,” Griffey says. “Marshall Faulk. Emmitt. Walter. I’ve always been a fan of the pancake block. You can rewind it and see it right there.”
But there is no record for pancake blocks. And that seems to be the point of a man who says his 500th didn’t mean as much as watching his son leave the football field “bawling his eyes out,” while he joins the great ones like Yaz, Banks, Clemens, Molitor and Randy Johnson trying to put a ring with a plaque.
“For me, I’m more a team guy than individual accomplishments,” Griffey says.
And, you just can’t compare football and baseball.
Or can you?
It took Rice eight seasons to go from No. 10 on the all-time list to pass Emmitt Smith for No. 1 in scrimmage yards. Griffey came into this season 13th on the all-time homers list and 20 more this season puts him eighth on the list ahead of Harmon Killebrew’s 573.
So up here on Olympus, is Griffey better in his sport than Favre or Manning or Jimmy Brown?
“I don’t know. We argue about it all the time,” Griffey says of his regular Monday night crowd in Orlando, Fla., that watches the game at a local establishment. “It’s the only time during the week everyone really gets out and we have the best debates.”
So.
Are 20,000 total yards as good as 553 homers?
(Make that 554 after Monday’s solo opposite-field jack in Milwaukee, the football equivalent of a cut-back run.)
“Yeah, because of the punishment they had to take getting those yards,” Griffey says.
Griffey shares the big-league record with homers in eight straight games. Is that as good as Johnny Unitas throwing a touchdown pass in 47 straight games, the play in football Griffey says is closest to a homer?
“That’s like throwing back-to-back no-hitters. How many guys have even thrown (in) 30?” Griffey asks. “It’s like 56 straight scoreless innings. Things like that. You just look at them and go, ‘wow.’ Some of the stuff that people have done in the past are like Bugs Bunny numbers. You don’t think about those kind of numbers.”
We are able to have this discussion so close to the first pitch just because baseball is so different. The only thing one can hear in the Bengals locker room two hours before a game is the flush of a toilet.
Before a Reds game, you can ask Bronson Arroyo about helping the Red Sox win the World Series (“Very cool”), you can ask Adam Dunn who is going to be his first draft pick in his fantasy football league (Kansas City running back Larry Johnson), and check in on a World Cup game, city council, or Paris Hilton on a bank of TVs.
Where else in a baseball locker room can you hear the unmistakable voice of Hall of Fame announcer Marty Brennaman needle a fellow future Hall of Famer in Griffey and a wayward, obscure media soul in the same clause.
“We must be winning,” Dunn says, and that’s part of it, too.
And, where else can you can ask a first-ballot Hall of Famer what the difference is between football and baseball? In football, you need an act of Congress (or a network rights deal) to get an interview this long with Favre or Manning.
“No, it’s not that,” says Griffey of the fact ballplayers play games every day. “It’s the same thing. It’s about going out and having fun. That’s just the football persona.”
This is a Monday Night debate and a family argument. You know where Griffey’s brother, Craig, a former Ohio State defensive back, comes down.
“What’s more impressive?” asks Griffey of the consecutive games record in each sport. “Cal Ripken’s streak or Brett Favre’s streak? I say baseball. He says football. My argument is (Favre) gets to hand the ball off.”
Griffey takes the majority view that hitting a homer is harder. And he says even though a touchdown pass is the closest thing to a homer.
“But (hitting a homer) is really quick. Most of he time, as soon as you hit it, you know pretty well and it’s ‘Ah,’ it’s just a matter of the ball going into the seats,” he says.
“But for a running back, he has to be able to make a couple of cuts, see the opening, and then accelerate. That’s all exciting. The most exciting play in baseball is a triple, or a guy scoring from first. In football, it’s the kick return or punt return for a touchdown, or the interception in the middle of the field where he has to make a couple of guys miss.”
In the end, he shrugs.
Can’t compare.
Maybe the closest thing to a homer for Moeller High School’s old standout wide receiver isn’t a TD pass, but a TD catch. The NFL record is 13 straight games catching a touchdown.
“Oh, that’s Jerry Rice,” Griffey says correctly. “But no one was trying to decapitate me while I did it (eight straight games with a homer). ... Clemens didn’t throw at me. Ryan didn’t throw at me.”
If it sounds like Griffey is an NFL aficionado, he is. A football Sunday at home in the offseason in Orlando is when he pulls out the barbecue, has some friends over, and they retreat to the room with three TVs.
“The NFL package has already been purchased,” he says.
But one of the greatest offensive players in baseball history would probably prefer a 17-14 game decided by a punt return.
Although, a 35-3 rout isn’t bad.
“I’m a football fan. I like good teams,” Griffey says. “I want to see somebody blow somebody out or I want to see a game where ain’t nobody going to give up nothing. Where it’s all field position.
“I play X-Box and I’ve got a friend who constantly plays with the Bengals. I’ve got one who always plays with the Jaguars. Another with Atlanta. I’m the guy that plays with five different teams. Even though it’s just X-Box, I can’t play with the Cowboys because I’ll still get mad if I lose.”
Griffey has never hid from the fact he was never an all-out Bengals fan growing up, maybe because when Griffey Sr.’s “Big Red Machine” shared the river with them, the Bengals were grinding gears between the Paul Brown and Forrest Gregg regimes.
The Cowboys were the draw even then because Griffey’s uncle played against future Dallas running back Tony Dorsett in high school and Griffey got into the fact that their quarterback, Roger Staubach, grew up in Cincinnati.
“That was something I could relate to,” says Griffey, who has to dodge the Steelers question with his family, a Donora, Pa., clan soaked in black and gold.
“To this day, I’m still the only non-Pittsburgh fan in my family,” he says. “Ooh, I stay neutral on that one. It’s kind of tough. I say you have to change once in a while. But when they won the Super Bowl last year, it didn’t help my cause.”
But maybe, just maybe, The Kid’s kid is helping Dad favor stripes instead of the star. Like his father, Trey doesn’t have a favorite team, but favorite players. Chad Johnson is No. 1 and Griffey, armed with the number of the Chad Cell, has enjoyed getting to know him.
They had a good time a few weeks ago when the Bengals came over to take batting practice before the Reds beat the Brewers in a Business Day Special.
“I’m going to send him a note,” Griffey says. “Two-thirds of the earth is covered by water, the other third by me. Trey’s so quiet. His eyes were wide. ‘That’s Chad?’ and I told him to shake his hand. Chad tried to lighten him up.”
Griffey, always good to Bengals.com, is delighted the Bengals and Reds are getting closer. In the pre-GABP days, his appearance on the Paul Brown Stadium underwater treadmill to help a rehab spurred things along.
“We should want to have the best baseball team, the best college basketball teams, the best football teams in our town,” Griffey says.
But when Griffey goes asking ESPN for those five-minute clips to teach Trey the game, he’s looking for more than Chad.
“Some of the things I try to teach my son I like to show him certain players. Rudi has a gift. He’s going to go at you as hard as he can,” he says. “Chad, it’s his athleticism. Big Willie on blocking. Ray Lewis on tackling. Deion on (pass) coverage.”
In fact, he told Sanders no thanks, but he’ll get other tackling videos. Trey runs the ball on offense, but Griffey also has him studying Big Willie as well as Rudi.
“At some point he’ll have to block somebody, so learn to do it,” Griffey says. “See what you do when you don’t have the ball. You’ve got to learn proper technique. We’ve got (tape) of Willie coming out (on a sweep) in front of the running back. Things like that we break down. How he positions himself to make that block. You have to be in the right position and I want to show him the right way.”
At the moment, Griffey admits they bond more over football than baseball. Trey is beginning to show more interest in baseball, with the telltale sign the family recently returned to Orlando in the middle of a homestand for back-to-back double-headers.
But Griffey knows a football mentality when he sees it. He blames himself for getting Trey and daughter Taryn motorcycles when they were five and three, respectively. When he saw Trey play defense, he said to himself, “Oh-oh.”
“The adrenaline you get from those extreme sports doesn’t really relate to baseball,” Griffey says. “He’s got the football mindset. He’s the only five-year starter. Most seven-year-olds don’t start. When I saw him play defense, I knew. Sometimes he lets up when he could just absolutely crush them and I get mad and tell him, ‘They’re trying to hit you like that.’ ”
Being The Kid’s kid isn’t all that different from being Senior’s Junior 30 years ago. Griffey says he treats Trey, 10-year-old Taryn and four-year-old Tevin the way he was treated. Be a kid. Play all the games you can, and then make up your mind.
The quickest way to Griffey’s heart is his kids. He does everything with them. Playing h-o-r-s-e with basketball prodigy Taryn (“She’s beat me a few times with a college 3”), teaching tennis to Tevin (“He likes to hit it over the net around the court not the one in the middle”) and X-ing and O-ing with Trey.
The strategy is one of the things that attracts Griffey to the NFL. “The behind-the-scenes, up in the booth, using plays to set up something for the next series,” he says.
“Tendencies. When a pitcher has success against you, he’s going to go with what has worked for him.”
He says Bengals head coach Marvin Lewis has invited them up for a game, and the prospect of being that close may have his father just as excited as the son.
One time in front of Pro Football Hall of Fame tight end Kellen Winslow, Griffey says he put his football enthusiasm on display during one of Trey’s games. Before the ball was snapped on each play of a drive and knowing the down and distance, Griffey predicted each play after watching so many games.
Of course, he knew there weren’t going to be many passes.
“Not when you give up seven touchdowns all year,” Griffey says.
And, he could have added, when you have a Larkin handing the ball to a Griffey on offense. Shane Larkin, Griffey figures, scored 25 touchdowns while Trey scored 17.
“Shane’s sport is basketball. Flat out, like Byron,” says Griffey of Shane’s uncle, the former Xavier University great. “They’re figuring it out. Their dads are friends. Barry and I were teammates, too. During football, they’re always together. They sit together on the bench. Trey wears No. 3, Shane wears No. 2.”
Twelve-year-old boys don’t talk, but Trey talks to his dad, whose lasting legacy will no doubt be he chased the homer record drug free in The Steroid Era. When Trey asked him once what ‘roids do, Griffey didn’t have to tell him much, and he doesn’t worry that if he pursues football he’ll be seduced by artificial enhancements.
“He went, ‘Eeew,’ ” Griffey says. “He doesn’t like needles. Neither does his dad.
“He’s a pretty smart kid. He asks about guys who get busted and if I know them. He understands he doesn’t want his name associated with (the wrong) things.”
The name and doing it right are the lessons being taught over a football. When Griffey saw Trey walking off the field, helmet and tears in hand after a loss, he says that gave him more satisfaction than becoming one of the 20 men to hit 500 homers.
“Because I know that he cares,” he says. “I want to see that he cares about what he’s doing. If he didn’t care, it means he doesn’t want to do it.”
Now it’s about 90 minutes before the first pitch and Griffey slides off the trunk as the chatter subsides and the game beckons.
Maybe baseball and football aren’t all that different. Or the same.
Like fathers and sons.
Upvote
0
ScriptOhio
Everybody is somebody else's weirdo.
Ken Griffey Jr. breaks hand in accident
By JOE KAY, AP Sports Writer 42 minutes ago
CINCINNATI - Ken Griffey Jr. broke his left hand in an accident at home, the latest in a series of injuries that have hampered the career of the All-Star outfielder.
Griffey's throwing hand will be in a hard cast for three weeks, then will be re-examined, Reds spokesman Rob Butcher said Friday.
Entire article: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061222/ap_on_sp_ba_ne/bbn_reds_griffey_3
By JOE KAY, AP Sports Writer 42 minutes ago
CINCINNATI - Ken Griffey Jr. broke his left hand in an accident at home, the latest in a series of injuries that have hampered the career of the All-Star outfielder.
Griffey's throwing hand will be in a hard cast for three weeks, then will be re-examined, Reds spokesman Rob Butcher said Friday.
Entire article: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061222/ap_on_sp_ba_ne/bbn_reds_griffey_3
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Okinawa's#1Buck
Heisman
If it is fustrating for us fans, imagine how he must feel. Nobody works harder to try to combat the injury bug than he does. I know everyone's first instinct is to rip on him, but keep that in mind.
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That's too bad, something like Jimmy Johnson falling out of a golf cart. Hope it heals well and quickly.
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The way I feel toward JR is the same way I feel towards the Reds in general. My anger and frustration have left and all that remains is apathy. We're going to suck with him or without him and he'll be gone in a couple of years anyway.
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ScriptOhio
Everybody is somebody else's weirdo.
The expected news is that Ken Griffey Jr. remains on schedule to be ready for spring training. The unexpected news is that right field may be in his future for the Reds. Griffey and manager Jerry Narron have talked about the possibility of Griffey switching to right field and Griffey is open-minded about the possibility.
-- Dayton Daily News
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/scorecard/01/17/truth.rumors.mlb/index.html
-- Dayton Daily News
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/scorecard/01/17/truth.rumors.mlb/index.html
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That's interesting, may be a good idea and extend his career. If it's true, I have no objections. 
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crazybuckfan40
Head Coach
Honestly I would like to see him try First base...
But I don't see that happening...
I think Freel in CF is much better for the team tho...
But I don't see that happening...
I think Freel in CF is much better for the team tho...
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