There was a time, and not so long ago, when sports served as a sort of babysitter unit, in the sense that you could park your kids in front of a TV set and have them watch games without having to worry about the conduct they were seeing.
In the last week, we saw examples of how toxic the pool can be and how short of the mark those who play the games can fall.
On one night, there was a brawl in the San Francisco-Colorado baseball game, touched off when a pitcher took exception to how long a hitter stayed at the plate to admire a home run he had just hit.
On another night, a Houston Astros pitcher hit his own catcher with an errant pitch, allegedly in retaliation over a disagreement over a previous pitch that resulted in a home run.
And on a third night, a Philadelphia Eagles defensive lineman was ejected on the first play of the season opener for spitting at the Dallas Cowboys quarterback, an expectoration caught in excruciating detail by multiple cameras and seen by millions.
Indeed, the athletes who play our games don’t have to be choirboys, but they should know where the church is.
That’s why the events of Saturday night at Camden Yards were so special, so meaningful, as thousands assembled to pay tribute to a true role model.
A sellout Oriole Park crowd gathered on a warm, late summer September night to mark the 30th anniversary of the game when Cal Ripken passed Lou Gehrig for the longest consecutive games played streak in baseball history.
The numbers 2,131 and the eventual 2,632, the number Ripken finally settled on, are, in the cold light of day, just that, numbers.
But, viewed in the context of a sports climate, which, then and now, needs a heroic figure, those numbers are everything.
In 1995, baseball was just returning from a crippling strike that not only cost the sport the World Series for the first time in history, but likely robbed it of a chance to see San Diego outfielder Tony Gwynn hit .400 for the season.
That hadn’t happened since 1941 with Ted Williams, who, by the way, gave up nearly five years of his career flying fighter jets in World War II and the Korean War.
Enter Ripken, who, by showing up each day and night and playing his position – shortstop and third base – nobly and honorably, demonstrated that the game itself was far more important than any one player, no matter how talented he or she is.
For nearly 16 years, Ripken did what we all ought to do as a matter of course – show up for work.
Indeed, within those 2,632 games was this just as amazing number, 8,243. That’s the number of consecutive innings he played, the equivalent of nearly 916 games without a break.
Cal Ripken would be the first to tell you that he’s no choirboy.
But compared to what we see these days in sports, he might be a solid candidate for sainthood.
And that’s how I see it for this week. You can reach us via email with your questions and comments at Sports at Large at gmail.com. And follow me on BlueSky, Threads and X at Sports at Large.
Until next week, for all of us here and for producer Lisa Morgan, I’m Milton Kent. Thanks for listening and enjoy the games.
