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Ken Griffey Jr. was inducted into Major League Baseball’s Hall of Fame today.

The numbers and highlights speak for themselves. Culturally, Junior’s impact on the game was profound. Even if he didn’t necessarily inspire a generation of young African-American baseball players to take up the sport, he caused a generation of young African-American kids to at least pay attention to a sport that historically didn’t seem to pay much attention to them.

But here came Junior— backwards cap affixed atop his head, striding into our consciousness in the late 1980’s with as much swag as his stride carried in center field for the Seattle Mariners. A five-tool player, he played the game with a flair unique to America’s pastime. Though never the most friendly towards the media, Griffey was outgoing enough to position himself as baseball’s leading pitchman in the early and mid-1990s. The commercials were memorable, the kicks were legendary (among the best in the ’90s— the only baseball player with sneakers that could come anywhere near the top basketball shoes of the day and whose re-releases currently garner among the most attention) and his video game nearly single-handedly made me want to cop made me ask my parents to cop a SNES (I was a SEGA kid).

Junior’s greatest athletic accomplishment wasn’t homering on his first swing at the old Kingdome, or hitting back-to-back home runs with his father, winning three Home Run Derbies, or his MVP in 1997. In an era where steroids and other performance enhancing drugs ran rampant, Griffey was the only player whose power numbers consistently rivaled those of his juiced-up contemporaries without having ever been remotely linked to the stuff. His physique remained the same for his entire 22-year career, save for a few portly years in Cincinnati. His swing, as majestic as a waterfall with a strut to match, launched baseballs of equal depth into the stratosphere from the early ’90s to the mid 2000s. He is perhaps the only offensive juggernaut of his generation with character that paralleled his immense talent.

This offensive output, coupled with his sparkling defense in center, made him a modern day Willie Mays. His branding, style, integrity and likability (guest spots on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and The Simpsons no doubt helped this cause) made him everything Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez, pre-PEDs or otherwise, were not.

Regrettably, Griffey accomplished all of this while missing a significant portion of the second half of his career as member of the Cincinnati Reds. Injuries forced him out 260 of 486 games from 2002 through 2004, and the trips to the DL continued to mount in the years following. He also never won a World Series, despite having the capacity to elevate his game in big moments. And although he never seemed to fully embrace hip-hop culture (or hip-hop culture never fully embraced him, be it due to his sport of choice or his privileged background), Griffey’s contribution is bringing a coolness with him to the game that allowed his popularity to crossover amongst all fans; a coolness that unlike Allen Iverson was not the least bit threatening.

Considering his consistency and production over 22 seasons, the statistics he would’ve put up had he not been robbed by injuries and his all-around skill, the case could be made Ken Griffey Jr. is the greatest baseball player of all-time. At the very least, he should be in the conversation with Mays.

ESPN recently ranked him the 14th best player of all-time. Of the 13 players ahead of him, more than half spent all or portions of their careers not ever having to play against players of color. Two others (Pedro Martinez and Greg Maddux) were each modern era starting pitchers who had only one more championship than Griffey on their résumé, but appeared in five less All-Star games. They also both only played once every five days.

That only leaves Mickey Mantle, Bonds, Hank Aaron and Mays. Griffey’s 10 Gold Gloves dwarf Mantle’s (one) and Aaron’s (three) combined Gold Glove count. And of course, Bonds’ case is tied down by steroid controversy.

Sidebar: It’s also worth noting that “the steroid era” applies to pitchers as well. So Ken Griffey Jr., playing clean, put up these insane statistics against many roided-up pitchers.

Unlike so many other all-time greats such as Bonds and Babe Ruth (albeit through little fault of his own), The Kid transcended his era by virtue of his honor. As Junior Griffey enters Cooperstown, we will always remember the purity he kept in the game…and that swing.

We will always remember that swing.