Hall of Famer or not, Dad still knows best

Born in Donora in 1969, on the same date as native son Stan Musial, Ken Griffey Jr. set diamonds on fire.

He hit 630 homers, No. 7 alltime, drove in 1,836 runs, 17th all-time. But there’s more to his story.

A visitor to the Louisville Slugger Museum sees displays honoring some of the game’s greatest.

However, only about seven of those highlighted stars have their sculptures exhibited. One of them is Griffey Jr.

When he was voted into the Hall of Fame in 2016, he received what was then the highest percentage of votes cast ever (99.3%). Only two men have exceeded his percentage – Derek Jeter (99.7%) and Mariano Rivera, a unanimous selection.

Musial, who surely deserved 100% of the votes, got 93.2%, somehow being left off the ballots of 23 voters.

In his book “Junior: Griffey on Griffey” the 1987 No. 1 overall draft pick, recalled an event from Little League.

“We got ready to play a game one night and one of the coaches on the other team got mad and said his team would refuse to play until they saw my birth certificate,” he said in the book.

His mother, Donora’s Alberta “Birdie” Littleton, a fine athlete herself, went home and produced the certificate. Junior, who grew to be 6-3, said he “was kind of tall” for his age in Little League — not to mention kind of good.

Junior paid tribute to his father Ken Griffey Sr.

“I wish I could throw like my dad. … At one point he was the fastest man in baseball.”

The book revealed the reason Junior wore his cap backwards.

When he was very young, he’d put his dad’s hat on but it was so big, the bill would fall down over his eyes. Turning it around solved the problem.

He pointed out how family was more helpful than coaches.

“There are a few people, and they’re all family members, that can look at me on the field and know if I’m doing something wrong at the plate. My mom, my dad and my brother Craig,” he said.

ESPN was broadcasting a game Junior was playing in and he got a call on the dugout phone from his father, who was in the middle of coaching a game for the Colorado Rockies.

“They’re pitching you away,” he informed Junior. “Hit the ball to left field.”

He obeyed and homered over the left-field fence.

In games Senior attended in person, he’d give a little signal to his son when he noticed something was wrong with Junior’s swing.

“He might be 30 rows up and all I have to do is find him,” the younger Griffey said. “Even though my father was gone a lot during the baseball season, he was always there for us when we were growing up.”

Senior always told his sons, “If you ever need some help, you call me no matter what I’m doing. Baseball has always been secondary and it always will be.”

He also preached, “Don’t be me. Just be yourself.”

Like many Valley people, Senior had solid values.

With Junior yet to sign a pro contract, Griffey Sr. told his son that making it in life as an athlete isn’t always attainable, so he should have a backup plan. Junior had college and a life as an architect planned, even helping design a house he had built in Orlando, Fla.

Another story of Junior from his youth deals with a painful lesson.

His father had just shed the cast he had to wear after surgery on a knee, but he wanted to work out with Junior, then a pitcher.

Senior stood in to face his son with Craig catching. Senior positioned himself with his recovering knee inches from the plate resulting in his cautious son to pitch him away.

Dad repeatedly insisted he throw inside. Sure enough, he eventually got hit on the knee. Junior cried but said he got the point and was never afraid to throw in tight to other batters again.

To commemorate being the first father-son combo to play in the majors at the same time, Junior had matching gold bracelets made for them inscribed with the words “First Father and Son” in rubies, diamonds and sapphires.

Junior compared them to a championship boxing belt.

He also shared a story from his first year in the minors.

Being allergic to certain types of fish, he skipped a post-game meal after a road game. When the team bus rolled back into their home base, Junior stopped at Denny’s at 4 a.m., missing curfew.

He accepted a fine, but then learned that his manager, like a school principal, had reported his behavior to his dad.

Angry at first, Senior cooled off after hearing all of the details, but he did warn Junior, “They’re going to tell me everything you do.”

“He was right. Anytime I did something wrong, I knew I could expect a phone cal from my dad,” he said.

It just goes to show, no matter how good you are as a player, even a future Hall of Famer has to answer to good ol’ Dad.