Tucked away in a corner of Cincinnati, a teenager flips on his stereo and presses play on the CD player and the disc whirls for a few seconds before the voices of the Barenaked Ladies fill the room.
He sits down at the computer to begin loading and reloading a web site, hoping each time that Ken Griffey Jr.'s indelible smile will pop up adorned by the hat of the Big Red Machine. If the proposed deal goes through, Denny Neagle and National League Rookie of the Year Scott Williamson would depart but "Junior" would then only signify a single person in Cincy.
The diehard baseball fan picks up the stereo remote and flips forward a few songs on the disc.
Griffey rejected the Mariners' proposal that would have paid him $135 million over eight years. The teenager who just received his first paycheck looks down at it and the two zeroes at the end of its line and wonders what it would be like to see six more.
The stereo reaches its next track.
If I had a million dollars (If I had a million dollars)
I'd buy you a house (I would buy you a house)
Significant talk has surrounded the Griffey deal as many wonder if he will become sports' first $200 million man.
Furniture for your house (Maybe a nice chesterfield or an ottoman.)
He's a teenager of the 21st century, so he tosses his Reds cap onto his bed, pulls out his TI-92 calculator and pulls up eBay.com.
I'd buy you an exotic pet (Like a llama or an emu)
He'll take a Chesterfield sofa set. They won't be around too much longer. Mom won't dig the llama.
With apologies to Steven Page and Ed Robertson, he decides he'll take everything they advocate. One Chesterfield sofa set -- $1,000. One fur coat (not real). One green dress (mom's birthday gift). He hasn't really always wanted a monkey -- but it might fly better than the llama.
He totals it all up and figures out he would need just about every cent of that million dollars allotted to him by Steven, Ed and the rest of the Barenaked Ladies.
If I had a million dollars, we wouldn't have to walk to the store
If I had a million dollars, We'd take a limousine cause it costs more
He once again turns toward his computer and wonders whether, if he had 200 hundred million dollars, he too would sign Griffey.
He could buy 200 of those sofa sets or enough monkeys to have his room declared a national park. In the end, he turns off all the electronics in his room, dons his Reds cap, grabs his Griffey baseball card and collapses onto his bed to stare at the ceiling.
He finds some more important numbers there for Junior.
Career home runs -- 398. And at 29, well within reach of Hank Aaron's record, barring injury.
I'd buy you some art (a Picasso or a Garfunkel)
Six 40-home run seasons, tying Willie Mays on the all-time list. Only Babe Ruth, Aaron and Harmon Killebrew have more.
Nine gold gloves and counting. He never even seems out of breath.
Suddenly, he hears his mother speaking "$200 million dollars to hit a little white ball "
The teenager shakes his head, chuckles. He puts his Reds cap on with some aggression and flips the Barenaked Ladies back on.
If I had a million dollars
He reloads the web site waiting for Cincinnati to make a move that will cost them millions but make them even more. Worth every penny, mom.
I'd be rich.
