Ripken not only played brilliantly, but he also always seemed to embody the very characteristics Baltimoreans use to describe their city. He was a small-town boy who spent his entire career with the franchise he grew up cheering. He didn't always have the game mastered, but he never stopped working to master it. He could be counted on.
So who resides with Ripken in the pantheon, that level to which the key is forged by some alchemy of on- and off-field greatness?
Robinson and John Unitas are the obvious fellow tenants.
"Those three stand out," said Bill Tanton, who covered Unitas, Robinson and Ripken as sports editor of The Evening Sun.
Ravens','resizable=yes,width=585,height=340,status=no,location=no,toolbar=no,scrollbars=no'); return false;">Ray Lewis seems likely to end up there, though it's hard to put an ongoing career in perspective. Frank Robinson is widely regarded as the greatest player to ever wear an Orioles uniform. And Babe Ruth is the greatest athlete to have hailed from Baltimore.
Mike Gibbons, executive director of the Sports Legends Museum at Camden Yards, attended his first Orioles game in 1954 and his first Colts game in 1957, so he has seen most of the city's modern stars. He said he would put Ripken near the top of his list.
"Of the players comprising my top 10, Cal most likely will not be remembered as the greatest athlete of the bunch, nor the biggest superstar," Gibbons said. "But he did everything on and off the playing field at such a consistent level of quiet excellence, and for such a long tenure, that he achieved superstar status almost the equal of Brooks and/or John, two other athletes from the list with more modest physical attributes."
The city's connections to Brooks Robinson and Unitas formed during an era when athletes weren't multimillionaires, cloistered amid armies of public relations experts. They were much more likely to live, work, eat and drink with the people who cheered them.
Brooks Robinson's natural friendliness showed through in thousands of encounters with fans, who felt at ease approaching him in malls and hotel lobbies.
Tanton recalled that when the Orioles had just suffered a humiliating defeat to the New York Mets in the 1969 World Series, most of the players declined to be interviewed. So every reporter and columnist went to Robinson, knowing he would never turn anyone away.
"You ask anybody from that time who was the greatest guy they ever covered and they will all say Brooks," Tanton said. "He just had a wonderful warmth."
Brooks Robinson's personal qualities transcended even his play, which was spectacular. Cooperstown had never seen a crowd such as the one that made its way up from Baltimore when Robinson entered the Hall of Fame in 1983.
"I think that crowd came because I came with the franchise," Robinson said. "I saw all the bad times. I was there for all of it."
As the unquestioned leader of the city's most popular team, Unitas was the king of Baltimore. Fathers and grandfathers still speak in reverent tones about the former sandlot player with the stooped shoulders who made them feel no deficit was too great to overcome.
"No matter how many times you busted his nose or bloodied his hands, he got back up," Tanton recalled. "And he usually threw a touchdown pass when he did."
Unitas was voted the greatest player of the NFL's first 50 years, and his on-field legacy might slightly eclipse those of either Ripken or Robinson. His personality was less on the surface than Robinson's, but he also had a common touch.
"He could be gruff with us, but I'd see him stop and take real time with fans," Tanton said. "And not millionaire or celebrity types, little guys with shabby coats. People you can't imagine most guys spending any time with."