2632

If one looked at the lineup card for the Orioles/Yankees game on this date in 1998, one would have the nagging feeling something was missing. It wouldn't be until the lineup was announced at Camden Yards when everyone realized what that "something" was...

Cal Ripken Jr. was not announced in the starting lineup. History had been made. "The Streak" was over.

Yes, it is simply referred to as "The Streak". Ripken played in an astounding 2632 consecutive games, surpassing Lou Gehrig's record (from 1939) by 502 games. What started on 30 May 1982 and spanned 17 seasons had finally come to an end.

Why end at 2632? Ripken would later state that he decided to end the streak at season's end to avoid off-season controversy and he wanted to end it on his own terms. Those of us who grew up with Ripken as the face of the Orioles (myself included) will also argue that he wanted the streak to end where it began - Baltimore, in front of the Oriole faithful.

The end of "The Streak" also was the beginning of the end of what is known as "The Oriole Way." "The Oriole Way" was a belief that hard work, professionalism, and a strong understanding of fundamentals were the keys to success at the major league level. This is how Ripken - and all the players of during Ripken's tenure, including the 1983 World Series Championship team - played baseball. Truth be told, Ripken was not a flashy player; but he went out everyday, gave 110% and got the job done. Or as he put it on numerous occassions, "I just go out there and do my job like anyone else." Thus, Ripken’s name has become synonymous with strength, character, perseverance and integrity.

This isn't to say that today's Orioles are a bunch of assholes and fucktards (aside from owner Peter Angelos). Nor is it that they're rude slackers. I'm sure a majority are upstanding guys who work hard, are professionals and understand the fundamentals. They're not the Orioles I grew up with; however, baseball isn't the same as I grew up with either.

But to a kid growing up in Maryland, Ripken was a god. The hometown boy playing for the hometown team. He was the good guy that everyone liked. He was the player that was actually cheered at visiting ballparks (which I have witnessed at the Metrodome). Girls had a crush on him; boys wanted to be him. Kids wanted #8 for their jerseys, and some of us still do.

Yet amidst all the fanfare "The Oriole Way" was, either by design or fluke, was somehow ingrained into us Maryland kids on some level. That in and of itself is not a bad thing at all.

Yeah, 2632 is an amazing feat that will likely never be surpassed. But #8 will live on in our hearts for not only how he played the game, but who he was as person.