Either that, or the gobs of millions does
Ichiro Suzuki spreads a towel on the carpeted floor in front of his locker, lies on his back and begins doing stretching exercises. From Ichiro’s blind side, Ken Griffey Jr. pounces, gets his hands deep under Ichiro’s armpits and digs in with his fingers. Ichiro’s laughter is almost childlike – genuine and uncontrolled – and after about five seconds he screams the magic word to make Griffey stop. Junior stands up, walks back to his locker and sits down. Ichiro lies quietly for a moment, letting his body relax, then goes back to stretching as if nothing had happened.
Baseball players are weird dudes. Apparently, Ichiro was unhappy with the team losing so badly last year, as opposed to all those players of sports who get lively thrills from getting their asses kicked on a daily basis. But the arrival of Griffey has changed that, and the two have become BFFs.
Of course, the Mariners are still losing more than they’re winning, but at least Ichiro has, at long last, found happiness.