A last working day for ironman of baseball

But he was more than just steady. Ripken was a dominant fielder and hitter during his prime - something that is often overshadowed by The Streak. He was named Most Valuable Player twice (1983 and 1991) and set the record for the highest fielding percentage ever by a shortstop in 1990 (.996). When he was hot, he sprayed line drives into the outfield like lasers and turned double-plays seamlessly. He led the Orioles to a world championship in 1983.

He teamed up with his brother Billy, who was an Orioles second baseman from 1987 to 1992, and played under his father, Cal Sr., the Orioles' longtime third-base coach.

Ripken had a knack for playing best when the pressure was greatest - an ability that surfaced when the camera flashes were popping like an electrical storm. He smashed a home run in game 2,131 of The Streak, as the president looked on. This year he stunned the baseball world again by going deep in his 19th and final All-Star performance - and winning the game's MVP award.

Even when his strength and bat speed ebbed, he pushed on, with an intense stare from his pale, blue eyes and constant adjustments in the batter's box.

Ripken was also a pioneer. Before he came along, shortstops were all glove and no bat. At 6-foot-4, he changed that, and helped spawn today's generation of full-size superstars up the middle, including the Texas Rangers' Alex Rodriguez, who grew up with a poster of Ripken in his bedroom.

"I didn't have models in front of me that could teach me how to make plays, for my size," Ripken recently told reporters. "In a lot of cases, I had to learn myself, using what I knew to try to figure out how to make a play at shortstop."

Ironically, it has also been The Streak for which Ripken has drawn the most criticism. Sports Illustrated recently called his consecutive-games record "overrated," saying that "looking for true significance in the feat is no more fruitful than trying to explain why someone would scarf down 50 hot dogs in 12 minutes."

Try telling that to anyone in Baltimore.

"I take offense to that," says Hendricks, an Oriole since 1968. "Here's a guy who takes [practice] ground balls before every game and treats each one like it's the middle of a pennant race. These are the ethics he brought to the game."

Even in his final year, playing with a bad back for a team that will lose close to 100 games, Ripken has been relatively productive, now at third base. He's also been spending more and more time organizing a youth league in Aberdeen.

But for the final days of the 2001 season, he remained a ballplayer, determined to play every day for his hometown fans. "Everything that you hear about him is true," says Orioles teammate Jeff Conine. "Cal is one of us."

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