Dolphin Stadium is a dreadful place to watch baseball. Sparse crowds of, on a good night, 15,000 spread out and get completely lost in the 78,000 seats. Imagine filling the front stretch of Daytona with a handful of matchbox cars, that’s how the stadium formerly known as Joe Robbie can feel for baseball.

The fans who did show up for the Marlins game Tuesday night (and happened to fight through the hour of traffic heading north from Miami in time to be in their seats for the top of the first) represented all sports fans very well as they were treated to a milestone.

Ken Griffey, Jr., of the Cincinnati Reds smacked the 600th homer of his career on Tuesday, becoming the sixth player in history to do so (Aaron, Ruth, Mays, Sosa and Bonds are the others if you are keeping score at home).

Those gathered at Dolphin Stadium dutifully stood and applauded. And they kept clapping, long enough to lure Griffey back out of the dugout for a curtain call. Griffey had just put the home team down 2-0 with one swing of the bat, but the moment belonged to Griffey, and the fans responded accordingly.

Moments like this one are what make sport so darn addictive. We watch for these moments when regardless of who you are rooting for you cannot help but slide to the edge of your seat or pace around or jump up and down cheering because whatever it is that you are watching has gripped you so much.

When history is made or excellence achieved you can’t help but step back and appreciate it. In so doing, you sometimes put aside your own allegiance momentarily. Those are the finest moments sport can offer.

A great example of this was in 2003 on Monday Night Football in Oakland when none other than the feared Raider Nation couldn’t help but applaud Brett Favre as he tossed four touchdowns and tallied 399 yards for the Packers just one day after his father had passed away. The silver and black got routed, 41-7, but the Raider fans were, for that one night, Farve fans as much as they were Raider fans.

Athletes like Griffey and Favre can get that applause because of their character. Sure, an historic moment or courageous effort summons this reception, but we as fans wisely and rightly reserve it for athletes we respect and admire.

Remember just one summer ago Bonds was hardly celebrated as he passed Aaron in the home run chase. The judgment was of the man, not of the record.

Griffey has earned our respect for how he has played the game and carried himself throughout his career. That swing is one of the sweetest we’ll ever see, and has been legendary even since Griffey’s days playing at Moeller High School in Cincinnati.

So hats off to Griffey for the record, but also to the Marlins fans who honored the Reds centerfielder for the achievement. I wish I could have been there with you.

UPDATE

In the coming weeks I’ll be sharing links to some of my frequent reads on the web. One is the Kansas City Star’s Joe Posnanski, and not surprisingly he also was writing about Griffey today. Joe’s story is classic for anyone who has lived in Cincinnati. Mine is from Xavier’s Hayden Field. Just beyond the right field wall there is about three stories of brick forming the wall of the O’Connor Sports Center. That part of the building includes the swimming pool, racquetball courts and a weight room. Griffey hit one that cleared all of that. Depending on who tells the story, Griffey’s blast either one-hopped the parking lot or cleared it all together. Either way, the ball wound up somewhere in the middle of the soccer field. This, by the way, was when Junior was in high school! Kroger lots or soccer fields or right field bleachers, each and every one of Griffey’s homers have started with that same, smooth as silk swing.