For Orioles fans of a certain age, Cal Ripken Jr. meant everything.

He was the local boy done good, playing for the hometown team that employed his dad as a coach for years. And for a time he played alongside his brother Billy, giving the Orioles three Ripkens in orange and black.

He was a perennial All-Star, a two-time MVP who showed tall hitters with power could play shortstop, a position requiring elite agility and footwork.

And, for Orioles fans like me who grew up in the 1980s and ’90s, he was a massive star who felt like a worthy idol, the smiling face staring back from the poster advertising milk against which we could measure our height. During some of the team’s lean years, Ripken was the Orioles.

These qualities made Ripken a marketer’s dream. And, fresh off the MLB strike in 1994 that canceled the World Series, Ripken’s march to break Lou Gehrig’s record of 2,130 consecutive games played — a record built on showing up to work each day — became a nationwide celebration of the national pastime. President Bill Clinton and Vice President Al Gore were in attendance, along with Joe DiMaggio, Frank Robinson and other baseball luminaries.

This all happened when the hobby of collecting baseball cards and sports memorabilia was in a boom period. As a result, Ripken’s Streak was highlighted by mass media and celebrated on all manner of trinkets and keepsakes.

I was a huge collector. Still am. To mark the 30th anniversary of 2131, I went digging through my parents’ storage unit (thanks for keeping all this stuff, Mom and Dad) and my own basement to resurface some of the items I’ve been holding on to all these years.

Starting Lineup: Headline Collection

Unlike their G.I. Joe or Ninja Turtle contemporaries, Starting Lineups were not meant to be played with, per se. Some of the appendages of the little figures modeled on real-life pro athletes could move, but mostly these were for collecting, posing and admiring.

This one of Ripken from 1993 is not a great likeness, really. The best thing you can say is the figure is a white guy with a Ripkenesque build in the correct black alternate uniform. Kenner, the manufacturer, eventually got better at making them look realistic, as seen by the Ripken Starting Lineup from 1998.

As part of the Headline Collection series, this special-edition release includes a stand with a platform and a reproduction of a real-life newspaper story published by The Baltimore Sun a year prior.

Although the chase for Gehrig was not yet part of the national conscience, the headline heralds Ripken’s run from 1982-91 as the “streak of the decade.” In that span he played 1,619 straight games, outpacing the Iron Horse. He would play a little over a 1,000 more before he was finished.

Wheaties box

For years, there was no finer mantle for athletic achievement than the bright orange box of these whole wheat flakes, the self-described “Breakfast of Champions.” Bears running back Walter Payton, tennis legend Serena Williams, hometown Olympic hero Michael Phelps, the Super Bowl XXXV champion Ravens — all of them graced the front over the years.

Fittingly, Gehrig was the first athlete to receive the honor all the way back in 1934.

This particular box of Ripken was said to be an error because the Oriole bird logo on the helmet and the “Orioles” script and No. 8 on the front of the jersey were omitted. Thus, it was thought to be more collectible. (Multiple error boxes of varying condition are listed on eBay for $8-$20. Guess I’ll have to look elsewhere for my nest egg.)

I never dreamed of opening it, and, no, I wouldn’t dare think of it all these years later.

And, yes, if you’re wondering, I have a box of Cal’s Classic O’s, a “honey nut toasted oat cereal” released closer to Ripken’s retirement. It’s in the Limited Edition Collectors Box, and it is also perfectly sealed.

Coke six-pack

Another vessel for commemorating greatness (and the pending arrival of Santa Claus): the glass Coca-Cola bottle.

The design here is pretty simple, with an Oriole bird logo near the neck and a basic Ripken jersey and the inscription “1995: The Record Breaking Year!” opposite the script Coca-Cola logo.

Be sure to admire the wonderfully ’90s aesthetic on the paper six-pack carrier, with “Classic Cal Stats” on one of the sides — even then he was the all-time home run leader at shortstop, a record he still holds — and a rudimentary drawing of Ripken on the ground after diving to snag a streaking liner on the front.

Back when the Hilton was a parking lot and more vendors set up outside Camden Yards selling food and other wares, I traded a Ripken poster I had just received as a stadium giveaway for this six-pack as I left the ballpark. It must have been a year or two after the 2131 game, meaning the Cokes had already been released in stores and were snapped up. These sodas were something I didn’t have in my collection and needed. Well, “needed.” Still think I won that deal.

2131 ball

The American League issued commemorative baseballs featuring orange stitching and an emblem on one panel with Ripken’s No. 8 flanked by 2130 and 2131, and they were used on the field in the record-tying and record-setting games.

To give you an idea of how much things have changed, the ball is stamped not with the name of the MLB commissioner but with American League President Gene Budig. Each league had its own president then, though Budig and his National League counterpart, Leonard S. Coleman Jr., were the last to hold those roles.

2131 baseballs were widely available at sporting goods stores for collectors. I got this one signed in the stands at Camden Yards along the first-base line among a throng of fans. All these years later, the ball has the discoloration you’d expect — this is 30-year-old leather we’re talking about — but the signature still pops. Although Ripken has undoubtedly signed tens of thousands of these baseballs, nothing beats the memory of having him grab this particular ball from my outstretched hand and returning it with such a bold autograph.

Burger King Fotoball set

No, these baseballs are not ideal for playing, but can we acknowledge this is a God-tier giveaway for a fast food restaurant?

The deal, as I recall, was this: The customer first acquired the stand and one of the baseballs, I believe the black one. They could get the white baseballs — one depicting Ripken in his 1980s heyday, the other a 1995 likeness — with subsequent meals.

There’s little doubt in my mind that I dragged my parents to Burger King to complete the set as early as possible.

Three decades on, it still presents well. As we gear up for a potential Super Bowl run from the Lamar Jackson-led Ravens, I’m calling on local fast food franchisees to step up their game.

Cal Ripken dollar

Someone had a hustle of taking real dollar bills and putting green-tinted celebrity photos over the face of George Washington. I have to imagine they sold them for much more than a dollar — good work if you can get it.

Nike famously had a campaign positioning Seattle Mariners superstar Ken Griffey Jr. to make a run for the White House. Why not Ripken? After all, he was “Mr. Consistency,” as the bill states.

Insert your own joke about waffling politicians here.

Programs, magazines, newspapers and even a Baltimore Sun medallion

When print media was king! I couldn’t immediately locate a sales figure for the Sept. 7, 1995, edition of The Sun, headlined “Immortal Cal.” Based on all the framed copies I have seen in man caves, sports bars and hobby shops, I have to imagine the sales figures that day rank top 10 all-time in the daily newspaper’s history.

And there were many more thousands of words written elsewhere about Ripken in commemorative magazines, limited-edition programs and books. If this article hasn’t made it abundantly clear, companies could slap Cal’s face on just about anything around the time of the Streak and it would sell.

The Sun even released a medallion with the 1995 home schedule on one side and a commemoration of the Streak on the other. Naturally, I had to have one. Mine is numbered 990. Out of what, I could not say.

Signed copy of ‘The Only Way I Know’

I’m singling out Cal’s memoir, published after the 1996 season, because the memory of how I acquired it is still fresh in my mind.

In May 1997, Ripken took part in a signing at the Bibelot (remember those?) location in Bel Air, and my friends and I were among the reported 1,700 people who waited in line to have a copy autographed.

The Saturday signing was scheduled to start in the evening — the Orioles played an afternoon game that day — but my small group got there early to secure a good spot. We weren’t the only ones, but the paper baseballs snaking through the aisles of the store indicated we were guaranteed to reach the table with Ripken and his blue Sharpie.

The only thing we had to figure out was how to spend the day until he arrived. Trips to the Harford Mall while one person stayed back to hold our place, buying and assembling 3-D Puzzles (remember those?) and thumbing through book after book after book — a perfect day for a preteen from Baltimore County, in other words.