Meet The Unknown Griffey -- Cornerback Craig Struggles For Football Playing Time At Ohio State

WEST CHESTER, Ohio - Cujo, the family Shih Tzu, once auditioned for a local laundry detergent commercial. Without previous experience, she was selected over a pack of highly qualified canines.

Instantly, Cujo joined her masters, Seattle Mariner father and son Ken Griffey Sr. and Jr., as yet another Griffey media darling. And it got the rest of the family - mom Birdie and son Craig - to wondering.

``I called Craig at Ohio State and told him even Cujo is a star now,'' said Birdie Griffey. ``I said to him that maybe he and I should make a poster together and call it `The Unknown Griffeys.' ''

In truth, she prefers her quiet status in a family with two major-league baseball players, a college football player and a telegenic dog. She gets simple pleasure watching her soaps and roaming their 14-room home in this bucolic north Cincinnati suburb.

The family home, which stands along the 14th fairway at Beckett Ridge Country Club, may be the only one in America with Mariners and Reds magnetic schedules on the kitchen refrigerator. It also contains one of the finest collections of Griffey memorabilia in the Western world. Senior's huge trophy for being the 1980 all-star most valuable player stands with his two Reds World Series trophies in one of four downstairs trophy cases.

Countless baseballs of consequence have been saved, including the two hit for singles on the first night the father and son played in the same lineup, Aug. 31, at the Kingdome in Seattle. Their back-to-back home-run balls, hit Sept. 14 in Anaheim, Calif., also are in plastic cases behind the locked glass doors.

Griffey uniforms are framed on the wall, along with pictures, posters, an original Leroy Nieman print of Senior, bat racks, and even a giant trophy (largest in the house) honoring Birdie's victory in a Reds wives' home-run derby.

This is a basement of significance, which also provides a dilemma of sorts. Among all the hardware, very little belongs to Craig, a sophomore cornerback at Ohio State. That's not by design. It's just that his choice of an athletic career, football, has taken a longer road to prominence.

It's easy to understand how Craig can become an Unknown Griffey. As Birdie tells it, ``First he was Ken Senior's second son, and now he's known as Kenny Junior's little brother.''

Craig, 19, spent much of his life in his father's shadow. Now it's his brother's.

``Sooner or later, it always comes up, a question about my brother,'' Craig said. ``I can tell you what a guy's going to ask even before he asks it.''

But it's no big deal with him.

``Not really, but it's weird because my teammates will say, `You hear about your dad?' or `You see what your brother did?' I don't really read the papers all that much, so I tell them I don't know,'' Craig said. ``They look at me like I'm crazy.

``The guys here (at Ohio State) know me. I've established myself.''

Nonetheless, it's important to his father that Craig understands there are no restrictions or predilection in his love for both sons. In fact, Senior has said that Craig will be the main factor in deciding whether he will return to the Mariners next season.

It seems safe to say Senior, who is eligible to become a free agent, will be back in a Seattle uniform. He said again this week that ``I'm leaning toward returning.'' But he wants to have a substantive talk with Craig before a decision is made. That talk will be tomorrow night in Columbus after the Ohio State-Minnesota game.

Senior predicts Craig will support his return to the Mariners. And he's right.

``I would encourage him,'' Craig said. ``He and Kenny didn't have a long time together. One more year is fine, but it's on his shoulders. I think he had fun with my brother. I know Kenny had fun.''

But Senior wants to make the point with Craig that he cares just as much about watching Craig play football as he does about playing with Junior.

``I want him to have his own identity and do his own thing,'' Senior said. ``Craig is different than Junior. He's in school. He's doing a heck of a job balancing his grades and football. You know, everyone talks about Junior and me; but I've never left Craig out, and I want him to know that.''

Although he is less publicized and acclaimed, the youngest Griffey family member may be the best athlete, some say. We're not talking Cujo here.

``He's faster. . . . He's got the form,'' Ken Jr. said of Craig's speed. Craig is said to be the second-fastest member of the Buckeye squad, with 4.43-second speed in the 40-yard sprint.

Football was not chosen by Craig because of his search for an identity. When he was 3, his grandmother noticed he would organize make-believe football games on his bedroom carpet with Star Wars figures against G.I. Joe figures. She sewed tiny uniforms on each of them.

As a seventh-grade quarterback, he used a computer to develop two lists of plays. Even so, Birdie once heard that his coach told some parents he had to give Craig the plays because Craig didn't understand them.

``He's so quiet, but he knows a lot more than anyone thinks. He watches, he understands,'' Birdie saod. ``I went up there and talked to that coach. I said, `Don't you stereotype my son as another young dumb, black jock. He has more plays in his playbook than you do.' He never did it again.

``Craig doesn't know his own potential as an athlete,'' she added.

One reason could be he spent much of his time mending.

He competed in track during his senior year at nationally renowned Moeller High School. He once beat the defending state 110-meter hurdle champion in a qualifying heat.

``I said, `We're going to state,' '' said Birdie. The next day, Craig came home on crutches because of a hairline fracture of his ankle suffered in a basketball game.

Four weeks later, in his first meet since the cast was removed, he won all three events he entered. The next day in practice, he hit a hurdle with his knee, ripped the skin and tore ligaments.

Craig was a catcher in baseball but stopped playing the sport when he was 13 to concentrate on football and track. He said the baseball and track seasons are both in the spring and he preferred track.

That doesn't mean Craig lacked the skills. When Ken Jr. was drafted by the Mariners, he told the scout who signed him: ``You know, my brother can play just as well as I can.'' When Senior was with the Reds, he took Craig to early batting practice at Riverfront Stadium. When Senior came home, he told his wife, ``He's still got it. It's just a matter of timing.' ''

The time is not right. ``I haven't played organized ball in a few years. I only hit some now and then and throw some with Kenny,'' Craig said.

Nevertheless, Craig is considering going out for the Buckeye baseball team next spring. Don't let that confuse you. Football, he believes, is his future.

``It is kind of important,'' he said. ``I've just got to put my mind to it. Only the lack of experience is holding me back.''

Craig, who walked on without a scholarship, has played sparingly in his first exposure to college football. He usually enters games in the final minutes.

``We're talking about a talented, talented athlete,'' said Coach John Cooper, who has yet to let Craig start a game for the Buckeyes. Craig did not play as a freshman because he didn't meet Proposition 48 eligibility requirements.

Ron Zook, the Buckeyes' backfield coach who recruited Craig, said he was convinced Craig could play ``before I knew who he was.''

``Obviously, he does have some good bloodlines,'' Zook said. ``But you've got to judge him on him, not on the accomplishments of his family.''

Bloodlines alone will not make you a star, Craig said.

``If I felt like it was destined, I'd feel like this (football) was easy,'' he said. And, so far, this is not easy.

``No matter what you decide to do with yourself, it still takes hard work, no matter who you are, no matter who your family is.''