EVER so slightly, the barrel twists in the air, the handle resting just above his shoulder. Eyes locked, hips set.
“Hit me a line drive, left center, a double!” Staten Island hitting coach Kevin Higgins barks.
John-Ford Griffin doesn’t say anything, just digs in and waits for the batting practice pitch to come shuttling toward him. And then the lefty unleashes his swing – seemingly from behind his hips -scorching a white missile with red stitching.
Into right field.
Neither Higgins nor Griffin utters a word. The message is understood-figure it out yourself.
Later in the session, Griffin lashes the ball sharply between short and second.
“There you go! That’s what you’ve gotta do!” Higgins booms.
This is minor league baseball. This is daily batting practice. This, Griffin knows, is his education. For the Yanks’ 21-year-old first-round draft pick, Class-A ball is like graduate school.
“He still needs to learn more about pitch selection and recognition,” Higgins says. “Once you train yourself to do that, your physical ability basically takes over.”
And when it does? “He has strength, bat speed, hand-eye coordination and the ability to make adjustments,” the coach answers. “All the tools you need to hit.”
It’s the scenario the left fielder imagined as a boy in Tallahassee, Fla., a diehard Yankee fan worshipping Don Mattingly (“he played the game like a Yankee,” Griffin says) and the child of a baseball-obsessed father who wanted his son to be a big-leaguer. Griffin stayed home to play ball at Florida State, succeeding former Seminoles like J.D. Drew by ripping a .450 average as a junior -second-best in FSU history.
Not one to fuel expectations, Higgins reluctantly admits that some compare Griffin to another lefty outfielder – Paul O’Neill. Yet Griffin remains modest, soft-spoken and focused.
What can you tell us about yourself? “I’m a laid-back country boy. Eggs, grits and bacon. That’s my lifestyle.”
What about your name? He laughs. “It’s a family thing. My grandfather’s name is Ford, and my mom wanted to name me after him.”
There is a curious kind of rugged elegance to Griffin’s play and a keen awareness that he’s in Staten Island not to impress, but to learn. So he does. After an eyebrow-raising 3-for-20 start, Griffin reaches base 13 of his next 22 at-bats, even belting his first home run. One night against Utica he flashes his surprising speed by going from first to third on a ball hit to right. The next night he showcases his power with a three-run homer.
“I figured it would be like this,” he says. “I’m getting my rhythm back, and things are starting to fall into place.”
No rush. He is barely a month out of college and just embarking on a journey to Yankee Stadium. Griffin says he can’t – won’t – think that far ahead. Too much to learn, and too many games to play in Staten Island first. He’s here for the education.