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If Ripken does have a flaw, it is his temper. He doesn't tolerate incompetence on the part of umpires or teammates. "I'm also stubborn," he says. "I think that's one trait I share with Gehrig." But by and large he conducts himself with consideration and intelligence and good humor. His parents have something to do with that, but so does the Orioles' organization, which has a unique tradition of encouraging players to become active in the community. Ripken is particularly involved in an adult-literacy program in Baltimore.
It's not easy being Ripken, especially these days. Before a recent 7:30 p.m. game with the Cleveland Indians, he arrived at the ball park at 12:30 for a two-hour discussion with Oriole officials on the plans for "Streak Week." At 2:45 he had a photo shoot with the Rawlings Sporting Goods company. At 3 he did a CNN interview; at 3:30 two local TV interviews; at 4:05 an ESPN interview. After that he immersed himself in his pregame routine, stretching and laughing with Brady Anderson , taking his cuts in batting practice, prancing around his shortstop territory in infield practice--how can any man find so much enjoyment in a ground ball, much less his 100,000,000th ground ball? Then he went off to work on his swing on the indoor batting tee for 15 minutes, and then he went over scouting reports on the Indians. Once the game started, he went hitless and drew a walk, but played his position flawlessly. (A shortstop has some special responsibility on every play that's not a strikeout.) And when the 3-hr. 16-min. 8-5 defeat was over, Ripken didn't just dress and go home. He went back out onto the field for one of his postgame autograph sessions, signing for and kibitzing with 2,000 fans. "Cal Ripken personifies everything that is right with baseball," said Bob Seal, 33, an engineer for the Norfolk Southern Railroad who came up to the game from Chattanooga, Tennessee.
A Ripken autograph session is illuminating because he doesn't just sign, sign, sign in the joyless way that many other ballplayers do. He engages people in conversation, talking to them as one baseball fan would to another. ("Man, did you see the stuff Mussina had tonight?" says Ripken, the fan.) If he sees a child with a rival's hat on, he'll kid him or her and maybe even exchange the cap for one of his own.
Actually, Ripken's easy way with the fans had something to do with the way he met his wife. Kelly Geer's mother chatted him up at a restaurant signing one night in 1983, telling him about her eligible daughter, and Cal signed the ball to Kelly, "If you look like your mother, I'm sorry I missed you. Cal Ripken." As Kelly recalls, "My reaction was, 'Who's Cal Ripken?' But a couple of months later, I was in a restaurant where he was signing, and when I thanked him for being so nice to my mom, he said, 'You must be Kelly. You're 6 ft. tall, blond, you have green eyes, you went to the University of Maryland, and you work for the airlines.' The next day he called." Kelly and Cal were married four years later. They now have two children: Rachel, who was born in November 1989, and Ryan, who was born in July 1993 on--somebody up there likes Cal--an off day.