By Dave Sheinin
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Hall of Fame voters yesterday validated the career of Baltimore Orioles legend Cal Ripken, with all its enduring blue-collar appeal, as one of the most admired in the sport's history, while emphatically repudiating that of disgraced former slugger Mark McGwire, in the first Cooperstown test case of the "Steroids Era."
Ripken, whose record streak of 2,632 consecutive games played stands as one of the landmark sports achievements of his generation, was elected overwhelmingly to the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility, having been named on 537 of the 545 ballots cast (98.5 percent), the highest vote total and third-highest percentage in history. He will be inducted in Cooperstown, N.Y., on July 29 with former San Diego Padres outfielder Tony Gwynn, who was named on 532 ballots (97.6 percent).
"It's a wonderful moment right now," Ripken, 46, said in a conference call with reporters. "It's almost more an extension of a boyhood dream. Sometimes maybe you fantasize you'll be good enough to make the Hall of Fame, but it's such a fantasy, you don't really think about it."
The symbolism of the Ripken-Gwynn pairing, at the exclusion of McGwire and all other candidates, is clear: The two players, the 197th and 198th major leaguers to enter Cooperstown, were bound not only by their great, overlapping careers, but also by the fact they spent the entirety of those careers with their hometown teams and were admired as much for their comportment and willingness to be ambassadors for the game as for their prodigious on-field achievements.
"To go into the Hall with a guy like Cal Ripken is unbelievable because he really embodies to me what it's about when you go to work every day," Gwynn said. "When you think about a guy like Cal . . . to me, I think, 'Here's a guy who just did it the right way.' "
However, the coronation of Ripken and Gwynn was overshadowed, at least to some degree, by the controversy regarding McGwire, whose prolific career -- which includes 583 home runs, the seventh-highest total of all time -- was tainted by allegations that he used steroids. As expected, his first-time candidacy was dealt a powerful blow by voters, only 128 of whom -- 23.5 percent -- named him on their ballots, well below the 75 percent required for election.
McGwire's total, in fact, ranked ninth in the balloting, behind not only Ripken and Gwynn, but also Rich "Goose" Gossage, Jim Rice, Andre Dawson, Bert Blyleven, Lee Smith and Jack Morris, all of whom also fell short. Former slugger Jose Canseco, an admitted steroid user whose 2005 tell-all memoir pegged McGwire and others as fellow users, received six votes (1.1 percent), below the 5 percent threshold required to remain on the ballot in future years.
Following their retirements after the 2001 season, Ripken, Gwynn and McGwire seemed destined to enter Cooperstown together, but McGwire's ties to baseball's steroids scandal climaxed on March 17, 2005, when, in a nationally televised hearing, he dodged questions from a congressional committee investigating performance-enhancing drugs in sports, saying repeatedly, "I'm not here to talk about the past."
McGwire's paltry vote total calls into question whether his exclusion was a one-time protest by voters unwilling to make him a first-ballot electee, and whether he will ever gain election during the 15-year window during which players are eligible. It also suggests other steroid-tainted superstars, such as Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa and Rafael Palmeiro, could face difficult paths to Cooperstown when they become eligible.
"I think he will get in," Gwynn said of McGwire. "I don't mind saying I think he's a Hall of Famer. I do. I know we have rules now that are in place about steroids. I'm not saying he did [use], because I don't know. But in the 1990s, we had no rules. I tend to focus more on the field, and what he was able to do . . . that carries some weight for me. I hope that one day he'll get into the Hall of Fame because I think he deserves it."
Typical of the public cautiousness he displayed during his career -- which stood in stark contrast to the candor of Gwynn -- Ripken once again declined to take a stand on McGwire yesterday.
"I know it's an important story for baseball, and I know it needs to be debated, and it's part of cleaning up the sport," he said. "I know [steroid use] existed. It doesn't bother me that it's a story one bit. But I don't think it's my place to cast judgment."
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."
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