2,131 Can’t Get Here Too Soon

I don’t know about Cal Ripken, but me, I’m tired.

I’m tired of “Cal: The Countdown,” “Cal In Focus,” “Cal By The Numbers,” “Cal At A Glance,” “Cal At Home,” “Cal With The Kids,” “Cal Through The Years,” “Cal Vs. Lou,” “Cal, Son Of Cal,” “Cal, Brother Of Billy,” “Cal, Drinker of Milk,” “Cal The Gold Foil-Wrapped Collectible,” “Cal’s Family Tree (subtitled: ‘Rip’s Kin’),” “Cal’s Home Gymnasium,” “Cal One-On-One,” “The Day Cal Missed A Game,” “The Day Cal Scraped His Knee,” “Should Cal Sit One Out Once He Ties Lou?” “Should Cal Go For 3,000?” “Should Percival Be Banned For Brushing Back Cal?” “Should Fabregas Be Tarred And Feathered For Sliding Hard Into Cal?” CAL-endars, CAL-culating, CAL-ibrating and every other CAL-vinism under the pun.

Cal’s opponent the day he breaks the record: CAL-ifornia.

Cal’s favorite fried seafood appetizer: CAL-amari.

Cal’s favorite West Indies musical style: CAL-ypso.

Cal’s favorite piece of pizza folded over once or twice and served as a meal: CAL-zone.

Cal’s favorite Broadway musical: “Oh CAL-cutta!”

Tonight, Cal breaks the record and CAL-elujah for that.

Thursday, finally, is a day of rest.

The streak has been exhaustive, draining, taxing, demanding, one long laborious grind that has pushed the mental and physical capacities to the absolute limit.

Ripken has probably gone through quite a bit, too.

This has been called “The People’s Streak,” “The Fans’ Record,” by the amateur sociologists who write their theses in the baseball press boxes of America. No kidding. For the last 121 games of Ripken’s 2,130, there’s been no question as to who pulled the sweeter end of this deal. All Ripken has had to do is play a game every time the Baltimore Orioles do. Everyone else has had to live with the streak, around the clock, with no time off--a CAL-oric overload every time you open a newspaper or turn on the TV or visit a magazine stand.

It has been worse in Baltimore, of course, where there is no NFL team, no NBA team to speak of and, really, not much of a baseball team this year. The Orioles are below .500 but Cal’s at 2,130, so the hype is out of control, almost as bad as what you’d find in Dallas the week before the Cowboys’ first intrasquad scrimmage.

In Baltimore in recent days, you could have read about Ellsworth (Babe) Dahlgren, the man who replaced Gehrig in the Yankees’ lineup on May 2, 1939; Floyd Rayford, the last man to start at shortstop before Ripken began his streak; Earl Weaver, the manager who decided to bench Ripken during the second game of a doubleheader on May 29, 1982; and Samuel Webb, a distant ancestor of Ripken who fought in the Revolutionary War and, presumably, also played hurt.

According to the Baltimore Sun, which had a local genealogist trace Ripken’s family tree, the shortstop’s “roots run deep in Maryland, with hundreds of relatives”--many of them blacksmiths, farmers and laborers, men who earned their keep with their hands and knew the value of an honest day’s work. So now we know where that comes from.

Trivia has come pouring in, from seamheads all over the country.

Did you know that only 17 players have remained in the major leagues throughout the entirety of Ripken’s streak--and only two, Wade Boggs and Jesse Orosco, have not spent time on the disabled list?

Or that Ripken has played with 30 second basemen during the streak, including brother Billy, now a minor leaguer best known these days for his interviews about Cal?

Or that major league teams have used 521 starting shortstops during Ripken’s streak?

Or that the Angels have used 28 shortstops during the streak, including Rick Burleson, Tim Foli, Dick Schofield, Steve Lubratich, Rick Adams, Rob Wilfong, Derrel Thomas, Rob Picciolo, Craig Gerber, Gus Polidor, Glenn Hoffman, Kent Anderson and, for 157 glorious consecutive games, Gary DiSarcina?

Or that every Angel in town this week has been interviewed, extensively, about Ripken’s streak and what it means to them? Even Dave Gallagher, the journeyman reserve outfielder who is presently on the Angels’ disabled list and would consider two consecutive starts a personal milestone, has fielded questions, apparently to provide the alternative viewpoint.

Mercifully, it ends tonight. Well, except for Thursday’s “Ripken Day Parade” through downtown Baltimore. And, well, the Sept. 23 release of Ripken’s new children’s book, “Count Me In,” in which Cal relates to youngsters the importance of not calling in sick and not skipping class. And the memorabilia shows, whose numbers were happily dwindling during lean economic times before Ripken’s streak all gave them a new reason to live.

As I say, Ripken’s streak has been a mixed blessing for baseball.

He’s a good citizen and a good player who has accomplished something no one ever deemed possible until the early 1990s, and he has done it with admirable poise under preposterous scrutiny, and he deserves his night under the floodlights . . . but enough already. Cal needs a break. We need a break. Everybody needs a break.

Thankfully, one Baltimore theater has come up with a solution. For those weary souls beaten down by the crush of Cal-mania, this bijou has been running a special feature this week and this week only. “Pride Of The Yankees: The Lou Gehrig Story.”