This story was excerpted from Daniel Kramer’s Mariners Beat newsletter. To read the full newsletter, click here. And subscribe to get it regularly in your inbox.

OAKLAND -- The group was huddled closely together in the tight-knit quarters of the visitors' clubhouse at the soon-to-be-shuttered Oakland Coliseum. Jorge Polanco was serving as translator for Randy Arozarena, who was making one gesture after another in the shape of a strike zone. Victor Robles was there, too, reinforcing the points that might’ve been lost in translation.

In general, they were simply talking ball -- simplifying the granular, from Spanish to English.

The audience was of one, who absorbed the feedback at the opposite end of the table, a seating arrangement that was reflective of the presence he carried.

Ken Griffey Jr. can have that effect on just about anyone, from All-Stars to even those with the simplest of pulses on baseball.

“You cannot replicate what he brings,” said Julio Rodríguez, whose first language is also Spanish. “I feel like a lot of us look up to him, and just kind of having him around, just being able to talk to him and pick up a little nugget here and there. That’s something so awesome to have."

Indeed, Griffey met the Mariners for their final two games at the Coliseum this week -- scheduling a check-in with Seattle’s young clubhouse, centered around one final bite at nostalgia. It was here where “The Kid” first made that early nickname mainstream, the venue where he notched his first career hit, on Opening Day in 1989. He was just 19 years old.

“It's one of those things -- emotional highs, lows, and where I got my first hit, and now it's the last time that the Seattle Mariners will be playing in this ballpark,” Griffey said in a pregame interview with the Mariners Radio Network. “So I wanted to come here and, of course, see the guys, but just to say goodbye to the place that I got my first hit.”

Griffey, as always, was loud and lively the past two days. Yes, he offered insights to the Mariners’ young core -- including pitchers, who joked that his arrival led to Seattle’s offensive outbreak of run support, a healthy 22 runs in the two games he was in town. But beyond his pedigree and knowledge, Griffey’s occasional pop-ins bring a sense of levity.

“He fits right in,” Rodríguez said. “I feel like [when he’s here], everybody's trying to relax and be cool. And like I said, a lot of us look up to him, and as soon as he stepped in the room, it was, 'Oooh, let's talk to him. Let's see what he's got to say.’ ... It’s awesome, man. Awesome.”

This was Griffey’s first visit with the Mariners since Dan Wilson took over as manager and Edgar Martinez joined Wilson’s staff as hitting coach, bridging past even more into the present this week. Griffey, in trademark and good-natured fashion, joked that the three Seattle legends are back at the ballpark because their wives “are tired of us and just need us out the house.”

“We want to give back,” Griffey said. “I mean, baseball is such a big part of our lives, and you always want to help the next generation. But in all fairness, I think it is a combination of both. [Our wives] spend 20 years of us being gone, and all of a sudden, we're home, and they look at us like we're crazy, because we don't know what we're doing. But it is. It's one of those things that we want to give back to the next generation.”

Griffey also dropped in during the Mariners’ sweep over the White Sox leading into the Trade Deadline in July, meaning that -- at least of late -- he’s brought perhaps a good-luck charm.

So, does the Mariners’ marginal turnaround mean that he has to come on every road trip now?

“I hope so,” Rodríguez said.