It’s hard to quantify charm. Ken Griffey Jr.’s number retirement ceremony at Safeco Field prior to last Saturday’s night’s game featured a video of baseball titan Willie Mays congratulating Junior on his accomplishments and playfully chiding him for not answering his phone calls. “Pick up the phone and call me anytime you have,” joked Mays. Without missing a beat—in front of 45,618 adoring fans who’d packed the stadium early to honor The Kid—Griffey pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the call. When the recent Hall of Fame inductee was caught in the act on Safeco’s video board, the crowd erupted in laughs and cheers of gleeful admiration. Griffey’s still a charmer.

The atmosphere at Safeco Field this past weekend was unlike anything the Mariners have seen for well over a decade. The excitement extended beyond the park’s walls as the Space Needle flew a massive 24 flag and a plane with a 24 banner shared the same Seafair sky as the Blue Angels. This was a Seattle celebration.

Appropriately, Griffey entered from centerfield for the number retirement ceremony, soaking in every ounce of adulation as he strode to chairs situated on the infield grass. Once seated, he was treated to a stellar highlight package of his Mariners career narrated by Macklemore, along with videos of praise from legends like Hank Aaron and modern stars like David Ortiz. And the Mariners rolled out the nostalgia train with appearances by former teammates Edgar Martinez, Jay Buhner, Jamie Moyer, and Dan Wilson (though it would’ve been nice to hear any of them speak).

By the time Griffey wound down his straightforward speech thanking the Seattle fans and his teammates, a theme had emerged. Griffey is so beloved and revered by Seattleites and his peers that even the most lavish praise seems fitting. It feels right that his #24 now resides beside Jackie Robinson’s #42 out in left field (especially considering how Griffey championed Robinson during his playing days). When Oritz called him “the Michael Jordan of [baseball],” it didn’t seem like a generic analogy for athletic greatness. And when master of ceremonies Rick Rizzs called Safeco “The House That Griffey Built,” he wasn’t speaking one syllable of hyperbole. The stadium quite literally wouldn’t have been built if Griffey didn’t spark Seattle’s passion for baseball. There simply has never been another player who can claim responsibility for a ballpark’s very existence. Safeco is all Griffey. Heck, the Mariners wouldn’t even be in Seattle anymore if it weren’t for the beloved Griffey-led teams of the mid-‘90s. Seattle baseball is Ken Griffey Jr.

Part of the weekend bliss stems from the lack of joy the Mariners have manufactured since Griffey’s original departure to Cincinnati in 2000. Mariners fans have a dogmatic devotion to nostalgia, because that’s all the franchise has given them. The organization forever pushes images of The Slide, because there’s little else to push. Other baseball teams don’t celebrate winning one first round playoff series—however dramatic—like it was Game 7 of the World Series, because every other team (except the Washington Nationals/Montreal Expos) has actually played in the World Series.

But the weekend thankfully provided something to root for besides retired ballplayers in suits. Saturday’s game was particularly dramatic, with the Mariners falling behind early and squandering many chances to come back before shortstop Shawn O’Malley cracked a 3-run homer in the 7th to give the M’s the lead for good. James Paxton followed it up by tossing a gem on Sunday to give the Mariners the series sweep and keep their wild card hopes alive.

It’s also fitting that the current player most often compared to Griffey–Angels star centerfielder Mike Trout—was on the field last weekend. The 25-year-old has an unparalleled combo of power, speed, and dazzling defense. He’s already won an MVP, and there’s a non-zero chance that he may one day be remembered as the best to ever play. He’s that good. On Saturday, he belted a 3-run homer in the 1st inning to take a lot of the wind out the hyped crowd, and on Sunday he had a Junior-worthy grand slam–robbing catch that will be part of his eventual Hall of Fame highlight reel.

There’s nothing about Mike Trout’s play that doesn’t scream generational superstar. But then you see him share the same space as Griffey, and their biggest difference becomes obvious: Trout could walk around the streets of Seattle with virtual anonymity because of his overwhelming lack of personality. There’s no sizzle; he’s almost crushingly generic. One can be a legend purely on greatness, but transcendence requires that charm.

Long live The Kid.