Even though I’m a Yankee fan, I’ve always had an abiding respect for Cal Ripken, Jr. Unlike alot of stars in baseball in the late `80s and early `90’s, he wasn’t controversial, he didn’t disrespect the fans, and he always gave his best. To the point that he played in 2,632 consecutive games, shattering the record held by Yankee legend Lou Gehrig, and putting himself, along with Joe DiMaggio, as the holder of one of the few records in baseball that may never be broken.
Appropriately enough, perhaps, it was on September 20, 1998, in the final Orioles home game of the season, against the New York Yankees, that Cal Ripken ended a streak that had started on May 30, 1982 and sat out the game for the first time in his career. And got a standing ovation from the crowd, and the Yankees in the visiting dugout.
Today, finally and inevitably, he was inducted into the Hall of Fame:
COOPERSTOWN, N.Y., July 29 — When the “Iron Man” himself came to the last of what he termed “three hot spots” in his speech, he melted. Cal Ripken Jr. had practiced those parts — about his late father, about his mother who sat before him, about his wife and children — and calculated how he would feel as he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.
It is Ripken’s way to leave nothing to chance. Yet here was, finally, something he couldn’t handle, thanking his son and daughter and “the love of my life,” his wife Kelly. On a Sunday afternoon, in front of a crowd estimated at 75,000 — the largest on induction day in Hall history — Ripken, the former Baltimore Orioles shortstop, and former San Diego Padre outfielder Tony Gwynn were welcomed into baseball’s most exclusive club, an experience Ripken called “amazing and overwhelming.”
The two company men, each of whom played his entire career with one franchise, have come to represent a purity so many feel the game has lost, and each seemed to sense how important their defining qualities — workmanship, diligence, love of their craft — were to those on hand as they addressed the crowd and 53 fellow Hall of Famers.
“Whether we like it or not, as big leaguers, we are role models,” Ripken said in his 16-minute speech. “The only question is, ‘Will it be positive or negative?’ ”
He went on to preach that “teamwork, leadership, work ethic and trust are all part of the game.”
Ripken’s speech, delivered under a blue sky dotted with white clouds that didn’t hint of the thunderstorms organizers feared, was pure Ripken. He reiterated the philosophy that begat a record streak of 2,632 consecutive games played — “I always looked at it as showing up for work every day” — and in accordance with that, he offered a salute to teachers, police officers, businesspeople and parents who approach life as he does.
Ripken, too, mixed in a tinge of rarely seen emotion, and touched on a vision for the future that involves kids learning his values through baseball. In reading directly from prepared remarks, Ripken’s only stumble came when he addressed his kids, Ryan and Rachel, and then again when he mentioned Kelly. These were the moments he had prepared for throughout the weeks before the ceremony. “I changed my wording so that it wouldn’t be so emotional,” he said later.
Though he navigated the passage about his father, Cal Sr. — the former Orioles manager and coach who died during spring training of 1999 — and warmly told his mother, Vi, that he loved her, he stumbled over that third hurdle.
“They bring me pride,” Ripken said, addressing his children, and he stopped with a short burst of laugher, pulling away from the microphone. He composed himself and continued, “as they continue to grow and take on life’s challenges.”
When he came to address Kelly, he put a white flower in the pocket of his suit jacket, and told Ryan, “I might need a little help transporting this.” His son, seated in the front row next to Kelly, then pulled an identical flower from his jacket and handed it to his mother.
I still remember watching television, on September 6, 1995, when Cal played in the game that broke Gehrig’s record. The game stopped for at least 45 minutes as Ripken made his way around the then still new Camden Yards, everyone cheering. But the one thing I’ll never forget is the sign someone held up that said “Thank You Cal For Saving Baseball”
Because, you see, back in `95 Major League Baseball wasn’t in the best of shape. Drug scandals from the late `80’s were still in the news. And, just one season before, the World Series had been canceled for the first time since 1994 because of a player’s strike. Some people wondered if the game would survive. It has, I think, in no small part thanks to the fact that there are still alot of decent guys like Cal Ripken playing.
