I’m having a beer with Ken Griffey Jr. I can’t believe it. He’s my childhood idol. We’re on stools at the bar but for some reason Ken Griffey Jr. is in full uniform and holding a bat on his shoulder while smiling, like on his Upper Deck rookie card. It starts to get a little awkward. He keeps smiling. He sort of parts his teeth to drink from his beer. He watches me nervously. He bumps a waiter with the bat. At last, I say he can relax, we’re only friends having a beer. He looks relieved. “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he says. “That’s all right,” I tell him. “Sometimes it’s okay to put the bat down.”