When I was a tyke, growing up during the final decade of the last millenium, I worshipped the Atlanta Braves. Nothing could convince me that they were lacking anything. Plenty of sportswriters and fans argued that as, brilliant as their pitching and fielding were, they lacked truly world-class offense. I would never buy it.
"Ron Gant," I'd say, "Dave Justice."
Even in my youth, at the far end of my mind, I knew that there was one thing the Braves lacked. That was Ken Griffey Jr. I barely considered non-Braves teams worth paying attention to; the lone exception was the Seattle Mariners. Griffey was the only player I loved as much as any on the Braves. I dreamed of us acquiring him one day.