Ripken Is Elected Into Hall of Fame

Still, in an interview last week in the Baltimore offices of Ripken Baseball, Ripken said it gave him peace of mind to know he succeeded at the game's highest level by playing it the natural way, even while some of those against whom he competed did not.

"I'm very content knowing I did it fairly," Ripken said of his career. "I did it with my tools. I did it to the best of my ability, and I gave it all I had. I can be content knowing I played the game the way I think it should be played."

Asked about the choice he made to remain clean, Ripken said there really was no choice.

"I can claim ignorance in the purest way," he said. "You're smart enough to look around [the clubhouse] and see guys change their body types overnight. You look at it and go, 'That's kind of weird.' But you don't know what it means. . . . To me there was no fork in the road. There was no choice. Those things scare me to death."

During that same interview, Ripken spoke at length about the legacy that, as acknowledged by voters yesterday, seems to be precisely what the Hall of Fame was created to honor. More than a product of his numbers -- impressive as they were, including his 431 home runs, 3,184 hits, 19 consecutive all-star appearances and two MVP awards -- Ripken was quite often a symbol of bigger ideals.

His record-breaking streak, which was based on the simple premise of showing up for work each day, came to symbolize the blue-collar heart of Baltimore. When the streak grew to 2,131 games, eclipsing that of Lou Gehrig, Ripken was held up as a symbol of what was still good about the game, which fans had abandoned in droves following the players' strike of 1994-95. That record-breaking night, Sept. 6, 1995, is credited by Commissioner Bud Selig and others as being the turning point in bringing fans back to baseball and ultimately saving the game.

"Some of these good things that happen are a byproduct of your playing the game the right way," Ripken said. "With 'the Streak,' when people say you saved baseball -- that's an exaggeration. I played a role, because of the timing of the Streak. We were all looking for something to hold onto that was good about baseball. And the Streak came along at the right time. I didn't do anything. I rode out the wave. . . .

"I like what the Streak represents. The big number doesn't mean anything -- 2,632 or even 2,131. I honestly believe it's a real simple thing my dad gave me years ago: My job as a player was to come to the ballpark and leave [the lineup] in the hands of the manager. If he wants you to play, you'll play."

Only 5 1/2 years removed from his playing career, Ripken is that rare athlete whose post-career legacy to his sport may match that of his playing career in its impact. Since retiring, Ripken has become a champion of grass-roots youth baseball causes -- the youngest division (5- to 12-year-olds) of Babe Ruth Baseball was renamed the Cal Ripken Division -- and an owner of two minor league baseball franchises.

"I immediately knew when I left baseball and went into the business world, you're a rookie all over again," he said. "I've enjoyed the last five years of my life. I equate it with a good season: The fastest seasons you've ever been part of is when you win. And the last five years they seem like they've gone by [fast]. They've been winning seasons and I've enjoyed them."

Ripken also makes no secret of his desire to run a major league franchise as part of an ownership group, and he acknowledges the team he really wants is the Orioles. However, while he meets privately with Orioles owner Peter Angelos every six to eight weeks, Ripken said there has been no serious discussion of a sale.

"Those opportunities do not come along too often," he said. "Probably in the next five years -- that's a good time frame to explore that. . . . Maybe we'll keep our fingers crossed."

By failing to appear on eight ballots in this year's voting, Ripken narrowly missed the honor of sailing into Cooperstown with the highest percentage of votes in history. Tom Seaver, with 98.8 percent in 1992, retains the record. According to the Hall of Fame, two of Ripken's eight no-votes were the result of blank ballots, one of which was submitted by Daily Southtown (Ill.) columnist Paul Ladewski, who wrote in a column Monday that he intended the blank ballot as a symbolic statement that voters do not have enough information about steroid use in baseball to evaluate individual players.

But Ripken said the vote totals were irrelevant to him, and in fact, when he received the phone call yesterday afternoon telling him he had been elected, he said he never heard anything beyond "Congratulations."

"It was a wonderful moment getting that call," Ripken said. "I loved what I did. I loved every minute of being a ballplayer. In many ways it's a continuation and a celebration of that dream I was able to live. It's a wonderful honor to be included among the game's best players."