Editorial notebook: Thoughts of Griffey recall a magical time

I spent many a glorious Seattle summer day cloistered in the dreary confines of the Kingdome watching the Mariners stumble. Those sun-sheltered days became much more lively when Ken Griffey Jr. took center field in 1989.

I was there when he blasted his eighth home run in as many games tying a major league record. The home runs were nice. But what I enjoyed was watching Griffey in the field. He made center field look effortless.

Seattle had never had a star like Griffey. For Seattle fans Griffey is more than one of the greatest baseball players ever. He is an icon, an idol for a region. He is the glue that binds a generation of Seattle baseball fans. He is the Mariners for those who grew up watching him.

When it became official that The Kid was coming home my thoughts drifted back to the fall of 1995. The chill of fall tickled the Palouse as my fraternity brothers and I firmly planted ourselves in front of the TV for every M's game.

I could have driven home to watch any number of games as Griffey and the M's came from 13 ½ back to win the American League West. I didn't. I could not give up the shared elation and camaraderie. I wanted to experience the M's success with those who understood what it meant to me. We were rooting for a team and a player that helped define our youth.

Welcome back, Junior. You have been missed.

— Ryan Blethen