I don’t know what Ken Griffey Jr. ever did to the baseball gods, or whatever other gods out there have conspired against him, but it hurts me that he did it.

Like just about everyone else in my age group, Griffey was my favourite player as a kid. I had a big poster and followed his every move. I even tried to hit like he did back then. Of course, it didn’t work out so well for me, or maybe I’d be playing in the Major Leagues.

Also like so many other people my age that loved Griffey, the strike, his leaving Seattle, and his injuries led to a breakdown in our relationship. I moved on to other players, and always just felt sad about the way things ended between us.

But no more!

A friend of mine is still a huge Griffey fan, and he gives me daily updates. That old flame was coming back just as the Reds were heading into August leading the Wild Card, and I found myself cheering for Griffey and the Reds (it helps that I love Adam Dunn for breaking the strike out record a couple years ago). Then Griffey got hurt and broke my heart again. He’s always been kind of like an alcoholic ex that you just keep giving second, third, fourth and fifth chances to. I can’t stay mad, and I’ll always want nothing but the best for him.

So it was pretty awesome to see him come off the disabled list last night and launch a game-winning three-run shot for the Reds. Sure, they’re out of the Wild Card hunt now, and in the end, the dinger won’t mean a whole lot, but it sure was nice to see it.

And it was pretty nice that it was Griff’s 563^rd home run. That moves him into the top ten all time, tied with Mr. October Reggie Jackson.

It’s hard to really celebrate 10^th when Barry Bonds is only a couple dozen homers from the all-time record, but it’s a pretty great feeling to see a guy that was one of the reasons I ever played baseball reach such a great milestone-- especially since he’s so broken down now.

Somewhere along the way, this nearly perfect baseball specimen had most of it slip away, and he became mortal. But his home run last night helped recapture some of the magic that makes the great players great, and this great game even greater.

Thanks to Ken Griffey Jr. for the memories, the hope of what’s left to be seen, and for saving me from writing about some asshole that makes left turns for a living.