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Ripken's Choice to Sit Comes as Logical Step
By Mark Maske Washington Post Staff Writer Monday, September 21, 1998; Page C10
Ripken talked that day about how "mentally challenging" the first few months of this season had been, with the Baltimore Orioles in a free-fall through the American League East standings. He spoke of the possibility of giving more serious-than-usual consideration to retirement this winter if the Orioles were to begin rebuilding. Ripken rarely talks publicly about walking away from baseball. But he did that day July 5, the day before the all-star break and it was clear that he was spending more time than usual pondering his baseball mortality. The sport's all-time iron man faced that issue more clearly than ever last night when he ended his consecutive games streak at 2,632. His bat has gotten increasingly slower in recent years, and Ripken, who turned 38 in August, cannot range far and wide at third base, even with his back no longer bothering him. Still, he always had clung to the approach to the game that Eddie Murray taught him long ago that he would be in the lineup if he was able. Until last night. "I just think it was his pride gnawing at him," one Orioles official said. "We'll see what the next logical step in that progression will be." Ripken said last night that he planned to remain an everyday player and gave no indication that retirement was imminent, but some Orioles officials recently said they would not be shocked to see Ripken retire following this season. Many in the organization once believed that Ripken's goals were to play in 3,000 straight games, get 3,000 career hits and play through the 2000 season so that he would have played in three decades. He's on the doorstep of 3,000 hits, so walking away any time soon would be difficult. But Ripken has made his break with The Streak, and some in the organization wonder whether he soon will make his break with his playing career altogether. Former Orioles pitcher Rick Sutcliffe once told Ripken at a time when The Streak was under attack to fix his hitting and all the criticism would go away. Ripken lived by those words for many years. Whenever Ripken was called selfish for continuing his streak, he'd redouble his efforts to pull out of a slump and make the controversy go away. Now, however, Ripken is in a season in which getting to 70 RBI is a major struggle. Maybe he no longer can fix his hitting. He has grown increasingly weary of the demands that come with a life lived so publicly. He was deeply hurt and angry when rumors circulated about his personal life and his marriage last year. Often overlooked about Ripken is his playfulness and competitive nature. His hair may be gray and thinning, but his eyes are as boyishly blue as ever. Ripken loves to play games with a teammate during warmups, standing at close range and throwing the ball at odd angles to try to make the other guy miss. He can be vicious in late-night hockey games in the Orioles' clubhouse. And if the team's clubhouse attendant is left taped to the trainer's room table, Ripken is the likely culprit. It always has been about the pure joy of the game to him, and it has grown harder and harder for him in recent years to enjoy the sport as much. The essence of The Streak never was the victory lap or the giant numbers on the warehouse during the celebration of September 1995. It was nights such as the one early this season in Anaheim, Calif., when Ripken emerged from the Orioles' dugout after a night game to work on his back-strengthening exercises with the team's conditioning coach, Tim Bishop. The stadium lights were out at Edison International Field, and the sprinklers were on. But Ripken worked and worked hard, with only a handful of people watching.
Scenes like that one not necessarily scenes like the one of Sept. 6, 1995, when he broke Lou Gehrig's consecutive-games record are why, years ago, Ripken's friend Kirby Puckett said: "The players respect him more than anyone else they've ever seen in this game."
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