By GLENN NELSON

June 12, 1988

Publication: THE SEATTLE TIMES

Page: C1

Word Count: 2252

SAN BERNARDINO, Calif. – It is the bottom of the first in Spirit Land, a.k.a. Fiscalini Field, home of the Class A San Bernardino Spirit. Outfielder Jose Tartabull, younger brother of former Seattle Mariner Danny, is dancing off first base with one away. There is a stir among 2,572 San Bernardino fans as the next batter strides to the plate.

In Spirit Land, watches are an unnecessary accessory. Everybody here knows what time it is.

“Iiiiiiit’s Griffey time!” P.A. announcer Dave Achord bellows.

Big cheers. But not big enough for Spirit General Manager Bill Shanahan, who has a keen sense for dramatics.

ABC News is in town to film a Father’s Day story on a young Spirit star and his well-known major-league dad. Shanahan orders his sound-effects people to “pump it up.” Achord exhorts the crowd to “make some foot-stomping noise,” and the organist provides suitable background.

Ken Griffey Jr. is the focus of all this hoopla. The first chorus of “Griffey Time” ends on a sour note when Griffey whiffs at an outside off-speed offering on an 0-2 count. The crowd emits a collective groan. The expectations here, as elsewhere, are high.

Expectations are met during Griffey’s next at-bat. In the fourth, he spanks an outside pitch just over the Oscar’s Mexican Food sign in left. The crowd jumps to its feet. Joining them is Atlanta Braves outfielder Ken Griffey Sr., the proud papa. This evening marks Griffey Sr.’s second visit to San Bernardino. Both times, Griffey Jr. has homered.

The clocks in San Bernardino seem stuck on the same time these days. Griffey may be the only minor-league baseball player featured on his own poster. “Griffey Time,” it reminds everyone.

“Usually, you don’t want to build up a player like that in the minor leagues,” Shanahan explains. “But he’s a superstar, and you’ve got to promote your superstar.”

Not that Shanahan is put out having to promote Griffey. ESPN, Sports Illustrated and This Week In Baseball, a nationally syndicated television show, already have preceded ABC in doing pieces on him.

Griffey is to the California League what Michael Jordan is to the NBA.

Reporters and cameras are drawn to the league’s marquee player, no matter where he goes – Fresno, Palm Springs, Reno, San Jose.

“This is kind of a mini-major-league situation,” says Don Reynolds, brother of Mariner Harold Reynolds and a roving instructor for the Seattle organization.

Those who may suspect the atmosphere in San Bernardino has been orchestrated by the Mariners as part of the grooming process of an expected superstar are only half-right. Under normal circumstances, Griffey would now be with players of similar age and experience at one of the Mariners’ rookie-league teams in Bellingham or Arizona. Because of his advanced skills and what the area has to offer, Griffey was assignedto San Bernardino.

Last year, its first in existence, the San Bernardino franchise, then independent, smashed the California League’s 40-year-old, single-season attendance record. Now averaging about 2,500 a game, San Bernardino is second in attendance only to Durham, N.C., among the nation’s Class A clubs. The Spirit is believed to be the only Class A franchise that is covered by a local newspaper home and away.

San Bernardino is only 1 1/2 hours from Los Angeles, the West’s media capital.

The Mariners wanted Griffey to get a taste of big-time exposure. But, in San Bernardino, he’s getting a full-course meal.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he played in a place with 50 people in the stands who don’t care who anyone is,” says Jeff Malinoff, the Mariners’ director of player development. “What Ken is going through may help his poise. But he’s still a minor-league player for the Seattle Mariners. It’s hard to convince people of that with the circus atmosphere that surrounds him.”

It would be difficult to deflect any attention from Griffey, even if the Mariners wanted to. After all, he was the No. 1 pick in last year’s free-agent baseball draft, considered one of those can’t-miss prospects who come along once every 3-4 years. Griffey also is the son of a major-league star and plays with a flair hard to ignore.

By all accounts, Griffey is handling the attention with grace.

He shrugs it off, saying it’s all “part of the job.” Griffey Sr.

says, “I think he kind of likes it.”

Teammate Jim Bowie, 23, says, “Ken talks to reporters like he’s been doing it for 20 years.”

Which is not too far off the mark. Being the son of Ken Griffey Sr., he has been around major-league baseball nearly all his young life. In human terms, he is only 18 years old. But in baseball terms, he is far beyond that.

“He has an unreal baseball sense,” first-year Spirit Manager Ralph Dick says. “Not only on the field, but off.”

Undeniably, Griffey, the baseball machine, is as hot and streamlined as the spanking new BMW he drives. Last year, after hitting .478, belting seven homers, knocking in 32 runs and stealing 13 bases at Cincinnati’s Moeller High, he batted .320 with 14 home runs, 40 RBI and 13 steals for the Bellingham Mariners. Then, up for a spell with the big-league Mariners during spring training this year, Griffey looked like he belonged.

“We were up in the big-league camp together, and Ken was not overshadowed by anybody there,” says Spirit catcher Jerry Goff. “If you didn’t know who he was, didn’t know he was just 18, you wouldn’t know any different.”

Therein lies the dichotomy that surrounds Ken Griffey Jr.

“When you watch Ken play, you’re impressed with his great talent, and you can forget he’s only 18,” Malinoff says. “One of the things we have to be careful of is that we don’t get so taken with the physical side that we forget about the emotional side. If we bring him along too quickly, and damage his fragile psyche, we’d have a lot of ground to make up.”

Which is why Griffey remains in San Bernardino – for the time being. Everything he does, doesn’t always make people forget he’s only 18. Sometimes he makes it painfully clear.

Griffey still maintains a close tie to his family. He speaks to either his father or his mother, Alberta, every day by telephone.

Earlier this season, Griffey got so homesick he got permission to fly to Cincinnati for a day. There, he watched his younger brother, Craig, compete in a track meet then flew back to rejoin the Spirit.

“I won’t need to do that again,” he vows.

A couple weeks ago, Griffey missed the team bus to Reno and had to buy a ticket to fly there. Observers say Griffey was not fazed by the incident. The Spirit front office, which had a California Highway Patrol car flag down the team bus to inform the club of its MIA player, took it far more seriously. Griffey said he overslept. Yet the five teammates with whom he shares a house all made the bus.

Griffey tends to draw attention to himself in other, sometimes unflattering ways. He is such a gifted athlete, physical endeavors come easy to him. It doesn’t always look like Griffey’s giving 100 percent.

Whether that’s true, appearances can be deceiving.

Don Reynolds, who has a masters in psychology, was assigned to San Bernardino primarily to usher Griffey through the early portion of the California League season. One of Reynolds’ tasks was to teach Griffey to appear ready to make a defensive play while patrolling center field for the Spirit. Not be ready, but appear ready.

Indeed, Griffey rarely appears vigilant in the field. While his teammates are crouched in the classic, baseball “ready” stance, Griffey stands upright, arms hanging by his side, tugging at his cap or tucking in a loose shirttail. He chases down balls with effortless, loping strides. His signature catch is made one-handed, glove snapping open at the last minute and just wide enough for the ball to sneak in.

It wasn’t long before Reynolds abandoned his efforts.

“If a player makes the play, I interpret that as meaning he’s ready,” he says. “Ken makes the plays. He still continues to surprise me with some of the catches he makes. He’s got the kind of skills you don’t teach, and don’t interfere with, either.”

Griffey bristles at the suggestion that he sometimes puts his game into cruise control. “I can’t help it, y’know?” he says. “I can’t help it if I make things look easy that some people think are difficult.”

The first time Dick, the Spirit manager, saw Griffey play was in a Connie Mack World Series. Then, he wondered, “How come nobody ever made the guy play hard?”

Now, Dick says, “Hey, you’ll see Ken walk on and off the field, looking up into the stands and not run out ground balls once in a while. But, from where he started, he’s come a long way.”

And that’s why there’s a sense of dread developing in San Bernardino nowadays, that Griffey Time is running out. There’s probably reason to feel that way. Around June 19, the Mariners will start shifting players around their system. Griffey, they feel, has met the challenge in Class A, so he’s likely ticketed to the Mariners’ Class AA team in Burlington, Vt. There’s an outside chance the Mariners will bring Griffey up for a taste of the big leagues in September.

Griffey tore up California League pitching early this season, hitting between .500 and .400 for the first few weeks. He since has tailed off, though his ..338 batting average through Thursday still was good enough to lead the league. He also is tops in stolen bases with 32 and tied with teammate Goff in home runs, 11.

“When a new pitcher comes in the game, I have to concentrate 100 percent,” Goff says. “But if Ken’s the first batter to face a new pitcher, he doesn’t even watch the guy warm up. Usually, you’ve got to watch to see what kind of stuff a pitcher has. Ken doesn’t care. He’ll talk to people in the stands. He says he doesn’t like to watch pitchers. Then he goes up and smacks anything they throw.”

Burned the first time around, California League pitchers have cooled Griffey by attempting to pitch around him. Having been so dominant, and perhaps having lost some of the challenge, Griffey has chased a lot of bad pitches. He’s also changed his swing a bit, apparently not just satisfied to get some wood on the ball, but to launch it out of the park.

“I think Kenny, wherever he goes, is going to match the level of competition – then play down to that level,” Malinoff says.

Dick says, “It’s not the pitchers getting him out anymore.

He’s getting himself out. Underneath it all, maybe that’s got a lot to do with what’s going on with him now. Maybe he’s not applying himself as much because he can do what he wants when he wants.

“I’m not sure he’s getting a true test here anymore. He might be beyond this league right now.”

Griffey just might be beyond a lot of leagues right now. Dick, Goff, Malinoff and Reynolds say he’s the best player they’ve ever seen.

They point out Griffey has something to offer in all five major baseball categories: Hitting for average, hitting for power, running, throwing and fielding.

“He’s definitely a guy who could help a team move up a notch or two in the standings,” Malinoff says.

“I’ve played with a Dave Winfield,” Reynolds says, “and Ken has more ability.”

Reynolds, in fact, mentions Ken Griffey Jr. and Willie Mays in the same sentence without batting an eye. “I’m not saying he’s there yet,” he amends. “But if he keeps it together, he can get there.”

Griffey has his own timetable. “Sometimes I think I could be somewhere else,” he says. “I’ve got to stop doing that.” He says he’d like to crack the major leagues by the time he turns 20, adding, “but it’s not like I’m going to quit if I don’t.”

Much has been made of the possibility of Griffey Jr. and Griffey Sr. becoming the first father and son to play in the big leagues at the same time. Griffey Sr., a 15-year major-league vet, says that’s a fantasy other people cling to, but does not dismiss the notion.

“The only thing that can stop that from happening is either me not playing any longer or Kenny somehow stopping himself from getting there,” Griffey Sr. says. “But I know I can stay, and I know he can get there.”

For the latter to transpire, it appears only that Ken Griffey Jr.’s mind must catch up with his body. For now, the Mariners are satisfied to let Griffey’s clock tick at its own speed. Still, from all indications, it might not be long before the loud speakers in the Kingdome, instead of those in Spirit Land, are announcing the arrival of “Griffey Time.”