The greatest cross-generational moment in baseball history is NOT Kevin Costner’s character and his screen dad’s ghost playing catch at the end of “Field of Dreams.” They happen in real life every day — well, minus the ghost — and that’s why that scene chokes people up.

Every boy (and these days, girl) who plays baseball has a single most unforgettable scene with their own parent that remains with them forever — if they’re lucky enough to have at least one to play ball with.

Mine came when I was 14. My father spent two hours one late afternoon fungo-ing flyballs until I finally figured out some fundamentals. It wasn’t the first or the last time he did that, but it was when the light bulb went on: first step back. I got it, finally — and it was because my dad cared enough to work at it with me until I did.

I still never amounted to much as a baseball player, but at least I’d figured out how to catch a fly ball now and then, or at least be in position to do so.

In my second 14 years, my dad passed away and I gradually fell out of love with baseball. It was partly occupational hazard and partly because I was tired of having my heart broken by what was then the worst favorite team ever. The Red Sox were passed on to me by my father, as favorite teams were prior to the onset of youthful self-determination and cable TV.

But then I found something that rekindled the flame. It involved a father and son, and it was way better than anything in a movie. It was that cross-generational baseball moment of a lifetime, but played out at the highest level. In a real game.

On Sept. 14, 1990, Ken Griffey hit a home run for the Seattle Mariners. Ken Griffey, Jr., then came up and did the same thing. For the first (and still only) time in Major League history, a father and son hit back-to-back home runs. You can still see it online. I look at it every now and then to make sure it really happened.

My dad and his generation had their Kid … Ted Williams. But as he aged, he seemed too tense and sometimes angry for the nickname. Griffey, Jr., The Kid, approached the game with youthful joy. Maybe not as brash as Bryce Harper, but his backward cap irked some old-school types.

But, to most, Griffey was a six-tool player if you counted charisma.

“There’s no WAR for just how a player can capture the imagination, sonny, so pay attention.” wrote Grant Brisbee in a recent Griffey tribute.

Indeed, the metrics were simple and his dominance easy to see: home runs in incredible bunches and robbing opponents of them with spectacular leaps at the fence, seemingly every night. Old-timers compared Griffey to Willie Mays in his prime.

Junior slowed due to injuries late in his career, but still managed 630 homers. He won 10 consecutive Gold Gloves and was a 13-time all-star.

He did almost everything you could do in baseball — except, as far as we know, PEDs.

On Sunday, Ken Griffey, Jr., enters the Hall of Fame. His parents, both cancer survivors, will be there with him.

Junior received the highest percentage of Hall votes ever. But why did three voters leave him off the ballot?

Maybe they never got over The Kid reminding us it’s a kid’s game.

Reach Dave Reardon at dreardon@staradvertiser.com or 529-4783. His blog is at Hawaiiwarriorworld.com/quickreads.