DAUGHERTY: Money grubbers make Griffey look like saint

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Every time another baseball player describes the heartbreak of living on $9.93 million per, Junior Griffey's stature grows about a foot. By Opening Day, Junior will be The World's Tallest Man.

The revisionist wheel turns in Griffey's favor whenever another athlete smacks his wife, bags his child support, shows up in his drawers in a hot tub filled with 17-year-olds or is accused of the occasional double homicide.

Ken Griffey Jr. hands a ball to a fan.
(Jeff Swinger photo)
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All Griffey does is complain about the media. These days, who doesn't? The other day, Gary Sheffield spoke of the pain of playing for the L.A. Dodgers. “The question is, am I happy? Wearing this uniform, I won't be happy.”

Before we break out the violins, a question: Who said
anyone had to be happy to play baseball? Is anyone happy playing baseball? Not Barry Bonds, who wants more money in San Francisco. Not Ron Oester, who wanted more money to manage the Reds.

Not Frank Thomas, truly a tragic figure, who can't imagine life at $9.93 million a year. The game is dying a dollar at a time, but to guys like Thomas, it's nothing but a bottomless ATM.

A sour bunch

Here's a happy thought: Players living up to their contracts without complaint. Here's another: Owners demanding to renegotiate with a player who had a lousy year. That'd please me. I'd be happy with that.

Baseball is careening inevitably toward the lockout cliff, because nobody is happy. Rich owners aren't happy having to share nickels with poor owners, fans aren't happy about sky-high ticket prices and opening games played out of the country. Players are unhappy on general principle.

The commissioner's reaction? “Hey, kids, let's give the league that wins the All-Star Game home-field advantage in the playoffs!”

That makes the All-Star Game more relevant to the postseason than the 162-game regular season. Why not give the team with the best record the home edge? Why not demand that Bud Selig take an extended vacation to Burkina Faso? That might make some people happy.

There's so much unhappiness, you'd think we were talking about real life.

Junior Griffey is happy, he says. He's taking in a mere $6 million this season. At that wage, Junior has a constitutional right to be miserable. But if he has a problem with Alex Rodriguez making $19 million more this year than he will, he's not saying. In fact, he's saying the opposite.

“He's in a different tax bracket than me now,” Griffey told Baseball Weekly.

One happy player

Griffey may be disappointed Carl Lindner didn't put the millions he saved on his centerfielder into, say, another starting pitcher. For the Reds, $6 mil for Griffey is like finding a diamond ring in a gumball machine. But if Junior feels that way, he's keeping it to himself.

He's happy. His family watches him play. He has built-in babysitters. He's home.

Last summer, we bounced from one gossipy issue to another with Junior. Did he really call ESPN to complain about Jim Edmonds' highlights? Why didn't he run out those ground balls?

If he wants more space, let's give it to him. What athletes do is always more interesting than what they say, anyway. Griffey has said all he wants to do is play. We should let him. That would make him a happy player. One of the few.

E-mail: pdaugherty@enquirer.com. Past columns at Enquirer.com/columns/daugherty.

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