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A year ago at this time returning students and incoming freshmen laced the prospects of a fall semester without any pennant chases, without the sound of bat against ball, without the World Series.
The autumn without baseball was a like spring without flowers. And as much as we hated the players and owners for their collective greed, we would have forgiven all, we would have forgotten everything, just to see the Bagwells, Vaughns and Griffeys back on the diamonds playing out the 1994 baseball season.
But there was no baseball last fall. Autumn faded into winter without the crowning of a world champion and many wondered if the National Pastime would ever recover.
Now another fall semester is upon us and thankfully this year shopping period has brought with it a renewed interest in baseball--the pennant races, the wild-card races, the post-season honors.
No, baseball has not yet fully recovered. Attendance at most parks is down and there will still be squabbles about money, about T.V. contracts, about small and large markets. But behind all of this remains a great sport. And if resilient, persevering and steadfast could describe any sport, it would be baseball.
It is fitting then that the defining moment in the 1995 baseball season to this point was Cal Ripken's breaking of Lou Gehrig's immortal record.
The fifth inning of game 2,131 was spectacular. The fireworks, the ovation and the glittering flashbulbs in Oriole Park at Camden Yards could not have lasted long enough to congratulate Ripken on his triumph over age, injury, and time.
There was a time in the off-sea-son where the use of replacement players in regular season games was a distinct possibility--a possibility that would have ended Ripken's streak.
However, replacement baseball never came to pass and the streak endured.
The streak endured the strike and baseball will too. Seeing the Iron Bird reach and pass the Iron Horse's record of 2,130 games played was as much a testimony to the dedication of a talented ball-player as it was a tribute to the sport that he played.
Baseball is, and always has been, bigger than any single player, bigger than any single team and bigger than any set-back it has suffered.
It was bigger than the Black Sox scandal of 1919. It was bigger than the Pete Rose gambling allegations. And in time it will prove to be bigger than the strike that ended last season prematurely.
So much has been written about Ripken being all that was good about baseball, and the praise is certainly well deserved. However, Cal Ripken didn't make baseball. Baseball made Cal Ripken.
Baseball has created men before--it created Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Mickey Mantle and now Cal Ripken. Give it time and the sport will create more men of the same ilk.
It's good to have baseball back in the fall. The Red Sox are about to wrap up the East, the Yankees are clinging to post-season hopes by the face of a wild-card, the Braves are dominating once again, and California is battling Seattle for the top spot in the American League West. This is what autumn is.
And even if you're a purist who believes the new-fangled playoff system has tainted the game, just remember that it's still the game you love and that only a year ago it wasn't here.
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