A last working day for ironman of baseball

It's the last home stand of his career, in the dog days of the season, and Cal Ripken Jr. is the first player to take the field for warm-ups.

Some 3-1/2 hours before game time, he walks with a fresh gait, despite having played a 15-inning road game the night before. He carries a leather bag full of baseballs, enters the batter's box, and gingerly scratches the dirt with his cleats.

Then he does the same thing that little leaguers across the country have been doing forever: He places balls on a batting tee and hits them, one after another, until his bag is empty - to right field, to center field, and finally into the left-field bleachers, where so many of his 431 career home runs have landed.

This from a 41-year-old man who is assured a spot in the baseball Hall of Fame, a player who has nothing left to prove.

This from a man who knows no other way, even in the last week of his storied career.

"It doesn't surprise me a bit," says a watchful Elrod Hendricks, the Orioles' bullpen coach, who was in Baltimore when Ripken came up to the big leagues as an oversized, converted shortstop in 1982. "His attention has never wavered. He comes to work every day. He works hard every day. He never has to be told what to do."

After this weekend, Ripken will hang up his number 8. The game will never be the same.

There have been faster players, who threw the ball harder, hit it farther, and won more World Series rings to put on their fingers. But arguably, there has never been one who gave more to the modern game than Ripken.

For 19 years, he was a throwback to the days when pros were boys at heart. He wrestled around with his teammates in the clubhouse before games, played with hustle and integrity between the lines, then signed autographs afterwards until all the kids had gone home. His longtime advertising role: pitchman for milk.

He grew up in Aberdeen, Md., the son of a ballplayer, and never really wanted to wear anything but an Orioles uniform.

He didn't complain about money, didn't lash out at the fans during slumps, didn't have scandalous love affairs in the newspaper. He tried to help his team win. It was that simple.

"To me the secret of his success was his competitiveness," says Will George, a major league scout who was Ripken's roommate in the minor leagues. "Cal's the most competitive man I've ever known - from backgammon to checkers to baseball to basketball. He knows what it takes to be great and he sets his mind on doing it."

Ripken will be remembered, first and foremost, for The Streak. He played in 2,632 consecutive games, from May 30, 1982, until Sept. 19, 1998, breaking Lou Gehrig's mark of 2,130 games. Some observers of the game say it's unlikely Ripken's record will ever be approached - what with today's rotation of "platoon" players, frequent injuries, and bad attitudes.

Page: 1 | 2