Rubbing elbows with Junior and the M's at the 'Dome

That's how long it took me to reach the Major Leagues.

Yes sir, two years to the weekend that I walked out of Beasley Performing Arts Coliseum as a graduate of Washington State University, I found myself in the press box at the one and only Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome - in its final season as a baseball facility, thank the Lord.

It took my high school baseball teammate Kyle Kendrick twice that long to reach the Major Leagues. Of course, his debut came as a starting pitcher for the Philadelphia Phillies. Mine came as a stringer for the Daily Herald of Everett, Wash., - essentially the "September call-up" of sportswriting.

But since that February night when my old man called me with the good news that Ken Griffey Jr. had signed with the Mariners, one question ran through my mind: What would I say to the only active home run leader not linked to a steroids investigation?

I never was Griffey's biggest fan. That honor belonged to Derek Greydanus, another high school teammate (and Dordt pitcher and graduate). I loved Omar Vizquel, the diminutive Venezuelan shortstop who might reach the Hall of Fame thanks purely to his longevity. When he was traded to the Indians prior to the 1994 season, I switched my allegiance to Alex Rodriguez.

Naturally, that blew up in my face two years after Griffey forced his way out of Seattle by demanding the Mariners trade him to Cincinnati.

But when Junior returned to Seattle as a member of the Reds during 2007 and said he owed it to Seattle to retire as a Mariner, he softened the calloused hearts of a million jaded M's fans - myself included.

I knew this demigod was a prankster, a clubhouse ham if there ever was one. I couldn't stammer and ask him something asinine or stupid, lest he make me feel smaller than Vizquel. No problem - I got that out of the way early during my first-ever locker room interview with closer Brandon Morrow.

Fortunately, Junior made it easy for me. As mlb.com writer Jim Street approached the aging slugger with me and a slew of other media in tow, Griffey turned around and said, "What the (expletive) could you possibly ask me?"

Then he broke out that famous grin that, coupled with the backwards baseball cap, made him a household icon in the mid-90s as he surveyed the shocked expressions on the faces of myself and the New Ulm radio guy.

"Man, you should see their faces," Griffey crowed as he pointed at the two of us.

I said something about needing to change my underwear - it's all on digital recording, I promise - and the ice was broken. The 11-0 loss to Minnesota, Griffey's hitless night, all that was cast aside amidst a bevy of clichés and unbridled optimism from Junior.

When Griffey began to pontificate about his future as a (left-handed) utility infielder and relief pitcher, I jumped in: "Have you pitched since high school?"

"On the mound? Yeah, in spring training," he replied. "No one was hitting (though)."

Does it get any better that this?

If you watched the series, you already know how it transpired. The Twinkies handed it to the M's the first two games of the series and looked poised to complete the sweep when Junior stepped up to the plate with one out and one on in the top of the eighth in Game 3.

Anticipating a seventh consecutive loss by Seattle, I had already written about 80 percent of my story.

"If Griffey goes yard here, it's going to change my story dramatically," I said to Geoff Baker of the Seattle Times.

Seconds later, the Kid did just that to tie the game at 2-2 and the M's went on to claim the come-from-behind win 5-3.

A Major League clubhouse is far more festive after a win, let me tell you. Usher's "Yeah" played in the background as I interviewed Griffey one last time before moving on to Morrow and Ryan Rowland-Smith.

If you read my blog entries, you know about the ordeals I dealt with: a key broken in the ignition, a lack of a road to my Motel 6, not to mention Minneapolis' absolutely horrendous routing and rerouting of their Interstates.

But then there were the benefits - eating four (free) ballpark hot dogs for dinner and chasing it with free ice cream - from none other than Wells Blue Bunny.

I got to meet USA Today national baseball writer Bob Nightengale. Want to hear that exchange?

Me: Why do I know who you are?

Bob: I write for USA Today and I used to be with LA Times.

Me: Oh, of course. I think I've read your stuff in the airport.

And I got to spend three days covering and talking with the team I rooted for since age six and would give anything to play for.

Since the Herald usually runs the stories from the Tacoma News Tribune's Larry LaRue when the M's are on the road, I wasn't paid for my efforts.

But was it worth it? If you're my Facebook friend, you already know the answer:

Gas to Minneapolis: $50 on debit MasterCard. Two nights at the Lakeville, Minn. Motel 6: $82.76 on debit MasterCard. Pre-game meal at McDonald's: $5.46 on debit MasterCard.

Having Ken Griffey Jr. drop an unprovoked F-bomb, then make fun of your shocked expression? Priceless.