Home Stretch - Cal Ripken Takes The Last Month Of The Season To Test His Back And Ponder The Future

It was only a bouncer up the middle that made its way over second base for a single into center field. But its symbolism was inescapable, even if something of a mystery.

It was the 3,048th hit in Cal Ripken’s career, coming in his 2,853rd game. Never before, within a season, had so much time transpired between Ripken hits and Ripken games. The day was Sept. 1, and Ripken had not played since June 29, when he had to be helped off the field in Boston with severe pain running down his leg, electrified by a nerve inflamed by bone chips remaining from 1999 back surgery.

For 59 games Ripken had been unable to play. Now he had returned, and in his first at-bat, banged the ball over second base in Detroit. Would this hit be a harbinger of many more to come, a sign that the Iron Man once again had triumphed and — restored to good health — would be able to return for a 21st season as a Baltimore Oriole in 2001? Or, as the ball hopped softly out of the infield, was it an omen that a once physical marvel finally had met his match, that his lame back would finally bring his glorious career to a sad end?

These are questions that people in Baltimore and throughout baseball are asking. Yet they have no answer — at least yet. Ripken says he wants to come back, to frolic on a baseball field for another year. He still loves playing the game, and he is convinced that he still can contribute. But he acknowledges that he cannot play if his back won’t let him. Even he is waiting to learn what the answer will be.

Meanwhile, as he acclimates himself to playing for the Orioles again, Ripken has begun to contemplate a post-baseball career, regardless of when he walks off the field for the final time.

“I have a huge desire,” he says of his next career, “to have an impact and be in baseball. It’s part of my consideration. But I want to have flexibility.”

That means that while he talks about the possibility of coaching and managing one day, he does not want to do either on a full-time basis immediately after his playing career ends. “At some point in my life,” he says, “managing or coaching is something I’d be interested in, and I think I’d be good at that. But in the immediate future, flexibility is more important to me.”

Ripken was the son of a man who spent his entire adult career managing and coaching in the major and minor leagues. That meant that Cal Ripken Sr., more often than not, was unable to spend time with his children because of his baseball responsibilities. It was left to his wife to take the kids to their baseball games and school events.

Cal Ripken Jr. does not want the same thing to happen with his son and daughter. “I want to be there for their athletic events, theater, music, dance recitals and all that stuff,” he says. “I place a high level of importance on that. I feel very strongly about having some flexibility in my schedule when I stop playing. When you are playing, you know what the schedule is, and you don’t have any choice. You have to live with it. When you stop playing, you do have a choice.” Managers and coaches who travel with a team, he says, cannot dictate how they spent their own time. They might be on the road during a little league playoff game or a school play. That’s why Ripken will put off thoughts of managing or coaching with a big league club until after his children have finished high school. “I think I’ll have enough other opportunities and choices to bide my time and be content and flexible before then,” he says.

Ripken also talks about being involved in front office or ownership positions. Because of his years in the game, he believes he is qualified to take an executive position in major league baseball. “I’d like to sit down and talk over every opportunity,” he says, looking off into the future. “I have developed an expertise in baseball because it’s been my life.” The skills and knowledge he’s picked up, beginning as a boy from his father, and then through more than two decades of playing in the minor and major leagues, “can be spread out over many different jobs,” says Ripken. He isn’t yet sure exactly what type of position he might like in baseball administration, or what the potential is. “You have to wait and see what your options and opportunities are,” he says. “There’s a broad range of possibilities.”

One thing he definitely plans to do, regardless of what full-time position he might or might not assume in professional baseball, is continue working with kids. Ripken and his brother, former Orioles second baseman Bill Ripken, have taken over and expanded their late father’s program of baseball camps for youngsters. In his hometown of Aberdeen, Ripken has contributed $9 million towards a minor league stadium and adjacent fields that will be used for a baseball academy he and Bill plan to operate. The fields will be miniature replications of parks like Camden Yards, Wrigley Field and Fenway Park. Babe Ruth baseball has named one of its divisions after Ripken, and he eventually hopes to bring its national championship to Aberdeen. “I look forward to Aberdeen being the permanent home to the world series,” he says. He wants to have a genuine impact on youth baseball, “on the grass roots level,” he adds, sharing his own work habits, experience and approach to baseball with kids. “I want to merge teaching with the Cal Ripken League,” Ripken says. When the league recently held its 2000 world series in Illinois, Ripken made the trip there during an offday to mingle with the young players and get involved with all the activities.

Among other aspirations he has are to help his brother coach at camps they run across the country and to write an instructional book and other material on baseball for youths.

“I’m very energized,” he says of his work with youth baseball. “I’d like to positively impact all of baseball with a certain philosophy of having fun and teaching, and that’s my goal. My expertise is in baseball in general, all the way from the grassroots to the highest level.”

But before he reaches the point in his life where he devotes himself completely to the Cal Ripken League or to his camps, Ripken sees an opportunity to share his baseball experience with some of his young new teammates with the Orioles.

“Throughout my whole career,” he says, “I’ve always taken the role to help whenever possible, and to give of my experience. I’ve always done that.” Many young Orioles, both past and present, say that just talking with Ripken about baseball can be a learning experience for them. “I think it’s fun to watch the developmental process of younger players and see them learn,” he says. “I enjoy that. The youthful energy, the youthful enthusiasm is part of that process. I think it’s fun to see. I like to see a raw, talented person grow into a good player. I enjoy watching that evolution.”

Ripken turned 40 on Aug. 24 and he found himself having to deal with what he likes to call “a harsh reality of sports” on his birthday. That reality was being with the Orioles, but not being able to play.

He defines “a harsh reality” as an unpleasant experience faced by a professional athlete that is not generally seen or even contemplated by fans. “These are the kind of realities,” he explains, “that you have to deal with, even if you can’t understand them.” This year, Ripken has had more than his share of harsh realities.

One of them, he says, “is getting to know somebody for a period of time, and then have them gone.” That happened at the end of July when some of the players he was closest with on the Orioles were traded. The departure of B.J. Surhoff was particularly hard on Ripken. The two men held each other in high esteem and had adjacent lockers in the Orioles clubhouse.

Being traded is another harsh reality, one that the Orioles star never has had to face. Still another is being injured, something he spent most of his career avoiding, until 1999.

This year, one of the harshest realities for Ripken was being unable to play with his teammates because of his back problems.

When Ripken was on the DL, he discovered that watching games from the bench was “torturous.” He would go into the training room or the clubhouse and watch the game on TV, or even ascend to the upper press box at Camden Yards to view his teammates from there, rather than sit on the bench.

“I watched the games on TV,” he says. “That’s my way of distancing myself. It eats away at me, not being part of the process. Being on the bench is more torturous to me. Physically being on the bench and not being involved only is a reminder to me that I can’t play.”

Because he was on the disabled list at the time, his presence on the bench was unnecessary. Many injured players aren’t even at the ballpark while they are on the DL. Ripken would come to the park to keep his body in shape, to receive treatment from team trainers and to visit with teammates. But the man who played in 2,632 consecutive games could not tolerate sitting on the bench. “Variety helps for me, so I looked for a way to positively pass the time,” he says of his visits to the press box, the clubhouse and trainers room while he was on the DL. “Instead of looking for the negative, I’d watch the game from a different angle.”

He calls such different vantage points “a protection, of sorts. I needed to distance myself a little to protect myself. There was an eating away inside of me that left a negative energy. And when you watch the game on TV, you can get up. Watching it from the dugout, you’re tempted to get up and go out there on the field. It’s too tempting. I derive the most pleasure from being on the field. So I had feelings of wanting to be out there and play again—I look for the silver lining. I constantly search for the positive. From the baseball perspective, the silver lining was the deeper understanding of what it’s like as a player. You can admire people in a different way. For instance, I’ve gotten to know Pat Rapp sitting and talking to him through the injury, and I really like him. I’ve gotten some insight into knowing what it’s like for a starting pitcher, I’ve developed a deeper understanding and relationship with those guys. I’ve learned a lot more about doctors and trainers and how they work together. I’ve had to deal with the manager in a different way. So there are a bunch of positive things.”

Another reason he didn’t like sitting in the dugout with his teammates was that it made him even hungrier to go on the field, at a time when he was uncharacteristically taking a conservative approach to returning to action. Because back injuries are so easy to recur if one is not careful, Ripken reluctantly agreed to abide by doctors’ and trainers’ advice not to return too early. Sitting on the bench, he said, could “be counter-productive” to that process, because observing his teammates playing up-close “made me want to throw caution to the wind.”

Now, though, caution is no longer an issue. Ripken is playing again, and he doesn’t know how to perform on a baseball field in a cautious way. He got off to a quick start with the bat upon his return, getting five hits in his first 12 at-bats, driving the ball hard and knocking in runs.

But it is not Ripken’s bat — or even his glove — that will determine his future, that will tell him if he will be back again next year. It is his back.