Ripken: From the Webmaster's View

What I think About Cal
Cal Ripken has been one of my biggest idols for as long as I can remember. He plays the game's toughest position with class and grace only matched by his humanity in being. On September 6, 1995 he became a true legend by surpassing Lou Gehrig's streak of 2130 consecutive games played in front of a packed house at Oriole Park at Camden Yards and a television audience of millions.

Being from the Washington, D.C. area, I have had the thrill of watching the Orioles win the World Series in 1983, gone through the years of Eddie Murray, Al Bumbry, Jim Palmer, John Lowenstein, Doug DeCinces, Ken Singleton, Rick Dempsey, Earl Weaver, Cal Ripken, Sr., Tippy Martinez, Mike Boddicker, Storm Davis, Brady Andersen, Mike Devereaux, Billy Ripken, Rafeal Palmeiro, Chris Hoiles, Ben McDonald, Mike Mussina, Bobby Bonilla, and throughout it all, Cal Ripken, Jr.

Memorial Stadium was a place full of memories, and there is not a more beautiful ballpark than Camden Yards, in my opinion. I am 23 years old, and my life has been centered around baseball, both as a pitcher up through the college level, and through the Orioles and my personal hero, Cal Ripken, Jr.

Meeting Cal
In the middle of the summer of 1995, I went to an O's game with Neal, a friend from Catawba College (my first college where I played baseball until 1991). It was a night game, and the Orioles won the game. After the game, we went over to the parking lot outside of right field, where the Orioles parked. They have gated fences there and occasionally players will come by and sign some autographs. That night I got Brady Anderson's. It's fun to see the players in streetclothes and see what cars they drive.

But the real treat of the night came later. We decided to wait until Cal came out. We waited there with about 2 dozen other people for close to 3 hours. Finally, out from the tunnel underneath Camden Yards comes this black Chevy Suburban. It's Cal. He slows down as he gets near to us, and waves. A few people got in fromt of him, so he stopped, and we all crowded around. He immediately told us all that he was contractually obligated to only sign inside the stadium, which he would do occasionally (and until every last autograph was signed, no matter how many!) after some home games.

Slightly disappointed, I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Well, can I at least shake your hand?" to which he replied, "I'd be more than happy to do that."

So I got to shake his hand. He asked who I was, and what I did. I told him I had pitched in college, and he congratulated me for that. He took the time to shake every single person's hand. He even played "high-five, low-five" with a little boy. When you see Cal face-to-face, you're overcome by his eyes. The are so steely and intense, but at the same time they showed genuine enjoyment in meeting his fans. He made me feel like I was talking to my best friend, not my baseball idol. It was a night I'll never forget.

Game 2128
I was at Camden Yards on Saturday, September 3rd, 1995 to see the Orioles play the Mariners. I'd been to a few of the games since they started the countdown on the warehouse, but this time was a little different for two reasons. First off, it would be the last game I saw in person before Gehrig's record was broken. Secondly, I had driven home that weekend from college with a good friend of mine, Dave. Dave is a good baseball fan, not a fanatic like me, but more than a casual fan. (He likes the Braves mainly, but we'll forgive him for that...) Dave was more than happy to join me on the trip home (7 hours is a much easier trip with someone in the car) to go to the game. We got seat on the upper deck in left field, on the front row of the section, so we had room to stretch out and soak in the sun and the game.

The game itself was unremarkable (in fact I think the Mariners won), but the fun part was getting to see the ceremony one last time in person, and to have a good friend of mine experience it too. In fact, Dave and I were talking on the phone in mid-September of 1998, and he recalled how that game still was a strong memory for him.

Game 2131
Like the majority of the world, I was not in attendance for the game on September 6, 1995. I was back at college, watching the game on TV. In fact, I was in a backroom in one of the computer labs I worked at during the schoolyear. Dave, my friend that went to Game 2128 with me, brought in a TV so I could watch the game there with him. We watched it all. I hooted and hollered when Cal went yard in the 4th inning. The game was as good as it could get, in my mind.

Then Manny Alexander caught the fly ball that ended the Angels half of the fifth, making the game official. And the ceremony began for the last time.

I don't get very emotional outwardly. It's not that I don't have feelings, but I don't show much besides happiness and anger. And I hardly ever get misty. This time, however, was a whole different ballgame. As the numbers changed, and the crowd roared, I couldn't hold them back. To some people it seems really odd that I don't cry while watching "sad" movies, but a sporting event can get the waterworks going. I guess I'm just a jock through and through. And I'll tell you the best thing about the 22 minutes and 15 seconds of celebration - that Chris Berman didn't say a word the whole time. I like Berman, but he did the right thing in letting the moment speak for itself. Seeing my baseball idol achieve what no one ever thought anyone could achieve, that made me proud to be a baseball player, proud to be an Orioles fan, and proudto be a Ripken fan.

The Night Cal Sat
After 2,632 games, the Streak is over.

And I was at the game last night. And I'm still a in a little bit of shock about it all.

There really was no advance warning. Up until 15 minutes before gametime, everyone not named Ripken was completely clueless to this being anything more than the last home game of the 1998 season, and a game against the hated Yankees.

Our seats were in Section 79. That's lower-level, left field, and under the overhang of the upper deck seats. About the only thing you can't see from those seats is the top half of the JumboTron (it is blocked by the overhang), and on most nights, that's inconsequential. Not tonight.

So, as the Orioles took the field, I was chatting with my friends, not really paying attention to the warmups. As with any Orioles/Yankees game in Baltimore, a large contingent of Yankee fans were there, and some (mostly) good-natured ribbing was going on, too. Having not seen the scoreboard, we were oblivious to what was going on. Then my friend Beth got my attention and said "Look at third base."

I looked, and standing at third taking warmup grounders was not number 8. It was number 10, Ryan Minor. Ryan Minor was starting at third base for the Orioles. Where was Cal? He wasn't at shortstop. He wasn't at first base (the next rumored position for Cal if the Orioles do not resign Rafael Palmeiro).

He was sitting in the dugout.

I sat and thought for a few seconds. Usually, just before the National Anthem, the PA announcer announces the starting lineups for both teams. He did not do that for this game. Odd, yes, but there were quite a few pre-game presentations and I thought that maybe they just didn't have the time to do it. By now, the JumboTron would have changed to show the Yankees lineup since they were coming to the plate. So I took a wild guess and thought that maybe they are DH'ing him. The game started, and Chuck Knoblauch grounded out to short for the first out of the game. And the events of the next couple of minutes confirmed what had become so apparent. The Yankees came out of the dugout and applauded Cal. That set the fans into a standing ovation. Cal came out, took a curtain call (which lasted about 5 minutes) and then the game went on.

But the Streak was not officially over. If Cal entered the game for any reason and either got an at-bat or played an inning in the field, the streak would continue. But it was very apparent that only in an emergency situation would number 8 take the field. For this night, Cal was the absolute last option off the bench.

The game itself was a typical Yankees/Orioles game - a lot of momentum swings not only on the field, but in the stands as well. And when Rafael Palmeiro grounded out to first base for the final out of the 9th, he not only officially ended the game, but he also officially ended the Streak.

Afterwards, we stayed and watched the press conference from the stands. Cal decided to do this on his own terms, and you can't fault his logic. In many ways, the Streak had become bigger than the team. For years it had been mumbled that Cal should take some time off, but it was also very apparent that none of the managers really had the gumption to actually sit Cal. They openly said they would do so if needed, but everyone knew that it was all words, and no action. Barring injury, it would be Cal that made the decision when to finally sit, and at this stage of his career, and with the Orioles in a trasition phase, the ending of the Streak will allow the manager to play some young third basemen without fear of the city of Baltimore coming down on him.

For years and years, Cal Ripken starting was as sure a thing as death and taxes. Now it's not. It's and end of an era in baseball, and one that I am glad to have witnessed in person, from start to finish.