31. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Let’s start with this quote:

“The more you refrain from judging every event in your life as either good or bad and trust that good can come from any situation if you allow it, the more you open yourself up and allow yourself to attract that which will bring you joy.” - Drew Rozell

Okay, that’s one perspective. The other is that some things are just GOOD, and tonight’s win is one of them. The ORIOLES WON!! Wow, they tried their damnest not to, not trying to let anyone stand in their way of finishing in last place, but somehow, the Gods deemed that they would overrule the Orioles burning desire to disappoint the fans and cause them great pain, forcing them to win a game against their will.

The Gods aren’t all powerful though because the Os still did cause us great pain. Recounting how we lost our six run lead to end the game 9-8 with the Sox scoring two in the bottom of the ninth would make me relive that painful experience and I refuse, since I’ve suffered through too many late inning losses this season already. Once is enough, night after night and there are plenty of bloggers who will provide you the gory details.

Believe me, there are so many times during a game when you have to fight the urge to jab a sharp stick in your eyes and gouge them out to save yourself future misery. Were it not for copious amounts of Vodka, I can’t say how disfigured I’d be.

Perhaps the best part of the game was Trembley showing his Weaver side, totally losing control with the ump and getting ejected from the game. Man, was it beautiful! I don’t even have words to describe the feeling that stirred inside of me watching it. If I had a time machine, I’d go back to 1979 in a heartbeat.

My husband just doesn’t know what to make of all this, but he’s learning. He runs into the room when I start shouting at the TV and will grab the remote and rewind the DVR to watch for himself. I love him for that.

Even so, he has still banned me from most shouting, making me go stand outside on the front porch to let out my stream of obscenities. Of course, there are neighbors, so I end up speaking in tongues as my eyes roll back into my head and my tongue wraps around my head and licks my eyeballs. I can imagine my neighbors are making up interesting stories about our fights, not being Orioles fans themselves, or having any idea what is sending me in apoplectic fits.

Anyway, we won!

Thank you Orioles gods, and may we make a sacrifice that is pleasing in your sight. Amen…

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30. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Word of the Day: insuperable \in-SOO-pur-uh-bul\, adjective:
Incapable of being passed over, surmounted, or overcome; insurmountable; as, “insuperable difficulties.”
Example: 1) While the Orioles have no trouble scoring in the early innings of a game, holding onto the lead has been an insuperable barrier to winning the game.
2) Until the Orioles figure out how to overcome the insuperable challenge of having a bullpen no better than if they pulled fans out of the stands to pitch, it may be decades before they have a winning season again.

Quote of the Day: “When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.” - Henry Ford

Hmm…we’re sure pitching against the wind.

Yes, surprise, surprise, the Orioles lost again tonight. That’s nine straight. I joked that they would lose, but secretly, I allowed myself to hope that tonight was the night. Looking for another team to cheer for, I was asking a friend at work about his Dodgers. He forbid me from watching them.

There were several errors tonight, but one of the worst plays was Jay Payton assuming that Carl Crawford’s left field hit was foul, stopping mid-run to let the ball drop in. That could have been the third out instead of a man on base for Upton to drive in. In addition to our depressing bullpen, that kind of fielding has been a contributing factor to the Os losing season after season. It’s not just the errors and the bullpen, it’s the hustle for the even those plays that don’t seem important. They all are important and that’s what winning teams know.

I’m trying to not be too hard on the Os, but boy are they frustrating to watch. We have some great hitting, which leads you to a false sense of hope; the problem is that you can’t help but hope, even just a little, despite the lie you tell yourself that you don’t care and you’re keeping your expectations low. When they get two men on, a part of you can’t resist saying in an inaudible whisper, “They’re gonna do it!! They are!”

Though I’ve rarely had a chance to watch them since I moved away (this is the first season I’ve seen weekend games in 15 years), other seasons weren’t quite so bad because the Os stunk through and through. It’s Millar and Tejada’s hitting that does you in.

When I was 22, I moved to Tampa, and for the first time I figured out that I had a gift I always took for granted, that I grew up next to Memorial Stadium. It took me a while to realize that I marked time by baseball season. When the first April came, there was a huge hole in my life. It was the first time I ever missed an opening day, which I so looked forward to after a long winter. Opening day was the promise of better things, warm weather, summer, a trip to Ocean City, puzzles on the dining room table, Chuck Thompson on my radio, so many sounds outside my bedroom window, the Orioles cheers, the crack of a bat, the barely on the wrong side of foul pole “awww,” the horns honking that signified that fun was back, Wild Bill, and sitting in the stands whenever I felt like it.

In Tampa, there were no more people outside my house, no more streams of people walking up my street. Something was missing, but I didn’t figure out exactly what it was right away. I didn’t put my finger on it until the Bucs hosted a Superbowl. Then it dawned on me that all the people were missing. Those crowds surrounding my neighborhood for every home game made me feel a little like I was where the good stuff was happening. My loneliness wasn’t just missing family, friends, Baltimore, being in the middle of the political and intellectual heartbeat of the nation, I was also lonely for the throngs of strangers going to a place where I spent most of my time when I wasn’t within the four walls of my own house on Yolando Road.

In Cooperstown when I saw the residents sitting outside on their porches watching the crowds, I knew what they were feeling better than probably anyone else in that crowd of 75,000 people. I know the peaceful feeling of watching things happening around you, and simultaneously the excitement and energy of it all, the excitement of the preparation for it, and knowing that it’s always there when you want it. You might not be able to articulate it, but somewhere inside of you know how damned lucky you are that when you’re ready to be a part of the crowd, you don’t have to sit in traffic or park a car, you can just grab a cooler, or nothing at all, and walk a few minutes to be where all these people have made so much effort to get to. When I look back at the pictures I had the foresight to take of the stadium or see old video, it’s still a bit incomprehensible that the landmark that shaped my childhood is gone.

So yes, it’s indescribably frustrating to watch the Orioles, the last two weeks in particular. A part of me feels like I’m wasting my time every night watching the games, which incidentally, I would feel even if they were winning. It’s a lot of tv watching and I have so many books and magazines to catch up on. I should be outside exercising! At the same time, I know I might as well enjoy it while I can. Fall will come too soon and when it does, I will miss baseball just like I did every October until I adjusted to the Orioles not being outside my window and on my radio. Winter will settle in and I’ll get distracted with something else, but life will feel quieter, a little sadder, and a little less interesting. Come March, just like every March since I was five years old, I will get excited when I hear the first news of Spring Training. It will seem like the season can’t come fast enough and I can’t get enough news. As usual, I’ll mark my calendar with a reminder for Opening Day and I’ll fantasize about getting tickets and flying home. When that first Monday in April comes, in the past, I always found myself paying for MLB audio and resenting the MLB for making me pay for radio that I used to listen to for free over the Internet, but I can’t bear to miss out, so I pay anyway. But next year will be different, I hope. I will have MASN.

It’s true that the Orioles have driven me to the drink, but no matter, I love em anyway and I’ll watch them as long as MASN lets me. Even though I may never see another winning season, at least I get to see them, and since it’s all I got, I’ll take it.

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30. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

The one comfort I can find in the, as the Wayward Oriole accurately described as, “unwatchable,” train wreck that is the Orioles, is that I know of at least seven other fans who are as miserable as I am about them. Some, in their high-and-mighty, I-know-everything, self-righteous philosophy might say I should accept what I can’t change. Perhaps stop hoping for a win. Perhaps become a fan of another team. But, I can’t give up on the Os, can I? There are only seven other fans out there. They need me.

The only thing worse than suffering, is suffering alone, so at least I have a small community of virtual people who have no earthly idea I exist, but nonetheless, watch the game with me and resist the temptation to repeatedly stab the television and then set it on fire every night in the 8th inning, however illogical that urge may be. I mean, if something needs setting on fire, it’s a bag of excrement left outside the bullpen, isn’t it.

I think today is the day I start Os Fans Anonymous and Spouses of Os Fans Anonymous. Our behavior is self-destructive and damaging to those who love us. If ever a support group was needed, it’s now.

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28. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

I think it’s time I admit I have a problem. I was away all weekend and missed Minnesota’s rout against the Os. I was in a great mood, life was looking up, but still, glutton for punishment I am, I couldn’t wait to get back to Os baseball. I have learned some lessons though. This season, unlike the ‘79 Os when we would come back in the late innings and win the game, we consistently throw away our lead and lose in the late innings.

After the seventh inning I switched channels and my husband looked quizzically at me, “What happened? Afraid they’re going to lose it?” I replied emphatically, “YES!”

He left the room to go fiddle with our Internet, which doesn’t stay up for more than 10 minutes at a time and we have no idea why (extremely aggravating!). (This also means we have no telephone.)

But I couldn’t help myself and turned back to the game only to see that TB had tied, and then took another 8 runs from the our absolutely, most pathetic, hideous, bullpen in major league baseball. Ouch! I thought watching Don Stanhouse used to be painful. As we say in the South, “For the LOVE of God!”

As I write this Tejada and Huff just hit two solo homers, so that our embarrassing loss is somewhat less embarrassing. Poor Trembley. Poor me. My husband, trying to save me from myself, turned off the tv, but if they’re going to make history again, I might as well watch it to say I saw it happen.

At the moment, I’d like to bludgeon someone though. Now even the TB fans are making noise in the Yard????? There goes another run, 15-8. That’s quality ball.

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In the spirit of Roar from 34, I’ve composed a list to cheer myself up:

You Know You’re an Os Fan/You Know You Have a Problem When

1. You flip off the game and pretend to be watching Oprah when your husband comes in the room.
2. Your husband would much rather you were actually watching Oprah.
3. Even when the Os give up 8 runs in the top of the 8th, you’d still rather be watching the game.
4. When the Os hit two solos and get two men on base, you actually allow yourself to hope that they could score six more runs.
5. You envy Lindsey Lohan and Britney Spears. At least there’s a treatment program for their problem.
6. You consider sending flowers, chocolates and a sympathy card to Dave Trembley to help him through this difficult time.
7. Your friends consider sending flowers, chocolates, and a sympathy card to you to help you through this difficult time.
8. You’ve invented ten new curse words during just the last two games and all of them are names of Orioles pitchers.
9. You know to turn the game off after the seventh inning if you want to stay in a good mood.
10. The disappointment on your husband’s face is palpable on the nights when the Os are playing.
11. You look forward to baseball season ending so that your heart has time to recover from the August Nightmare.
12. The thought of fall and baseball season ending makes you sad. (You know you’ll have to go back to being mad at the Bush Administration. This is probably their fault too!)
13. You know that a three run lead in the 7th is far from enough to enable the Os to win a game.
14. Watching the Os play is more painful than having a mystery diagnosis.

I’ll have to keep working on the list…I’m not feeling better yet.

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27. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

I took a whole weekend away from the Orioles. I wasn’t able to watch a game Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. I couldn’t even get the scores. I am in such a good mood, I can’t believe it. Was it the beach and the ocean waves lulling me into a state of well-being, or the Orioles fast that did it?

I don’t have fantasies of bludgeoning people anymore. My violent tendencies have disappeared. I’m chipper and feel a strange sensation…I vaguely remember…what is it called…it’s on the tip of my tongue…begins with an O…OPTIMISM! That’s it!

Two words that are incompatible: Orioles and Optimism.

My once crushed spirit emerges light with cheer. Amazing.

To feel better, some people avoid the news, cut-out the drink, take anti-depressants. Me? I just need to turn off MASN.

That said, the Os are still my team and I can’t wait to watch them tomorrow. If nothing else, their never ending losing streak, season after bloody season, year after year, is teaching me a valuable lesson about overcoming hard times through sheer force of will, never letting yourself get too beaten down by life’s slings and arrows.

Also, it presents more proof of the ridiculousness of “The Secret.” If my thoughts were powerful enough to create an outcome, the Orioles would be in first place and the Ys, so far back they’d have set a record for number of losses in one season. It would be they who had lost 30-3, not my Os.

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23. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Doesn’t this picture say it all about last night’s game?

As my friend Jeff says, that’s a beat-down in any sport. When he first saw the score, he thought BAL must have meant the Ravens, but wait, that’s only a field goal? Wait a minute, the Ravens aren’t playing right now.

None of us can digest this, particularly the Os fans.

Jeff and I brain-stormed the possible dialogue when this picture was taken.

Scenario 1
Roberts: You have got to be f*cking kidding me. What the hell are you doing?

Scenario 2
Trembley: We need you to pitch.
Hernandez: Come on buddy, help us out. We need you.
Pitcher: You remember how to throw a curve ball?
Roberts: Let me see, it hasn’t been since little league. (To himself, “I want to be traded.”)

Scenario 3
Roberts: When I open my eyes again, I want to wake up and for all of you to be gone.

Scenario 4
Roberts: I’ve got a powerful migraine now. Any of ya’ll got some Excedrin?

Scenario 5
Hernandez: What was it we were supposed to do out here again?
Pitcher: Yeah, I forgot. Was this batting practice?
Roberts: Um, I can’t remember…something about…win…no…no…it was…um…
Trembley: Come on Roberts. We need an answer.

Scenario 6
Pitcher: We need you to lead us in prayer.
Roberts: In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost…Shema Israel, Adonai…

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22. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

I forgot there was a double-header today and thank goodness, because my heart likely couldn’t have handled watching the first game. My husband was watching something recorded and I asked if I could put on the game. He said, “I just checked, it starts at 8:30.”

“8:30?” I thought to myself, “That’s odd. They’re playing Texas at home. Hmm…OH!! Darn! It was a doubleheader today.”

So we turned on MASN. Dempsey and Hunter were wrapping up the last game. Blah, blah 30-3.

WHAT??? What did they say? That’s impossible. No one scores 30 in a professional baseball game. This isn’t little league. Haha. That’s funny. I thought he said 30.

I looked on Orioles.com. Yes, 30-3 against the Texas Rangers. TEXAS!

HOLY SHIT!!! What the %^#*#@%^!!

There was a Sunday game back in the 80s when the Orioles were hating life and went through not only the entire bullpen, but had people like Elrod Hendricks pitching. My parents were at the game that day and we had a big laugh about it. I think that game ended around 18 runs.

But 30??? That has to be a record. Oh, Jim Palmer just said it was. Last record was set 100 years ago. Guess I can give up any hope of finishing above 4th this year. Some days, it’s really hard to be an Orioles fan. I guess in a way, I’m glad Wild Bill left before he could see that game. If he hadn’t, that would have been the last straw.

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Blogger Matthew Taylor of “Roar from 34″ has written a cathartic post about last night’s game. If you need a laugh like I did, check it out.

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20. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Church sign captures precisely how we feel about the Ys and Sox.

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20. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Photo courtesy of Baltimore Sun

I just heard this very sad news. Orioles cheerleader Wild Bill Hagy died today. His roommate found him slumped over dead at the computer, no doubt catching up on the ending of yesterday’s game against the Blue Jays. The Orioles have nearly killed me a few times this year too and, in light of what they did to Wild Bill, my husband is considering forbidding anymore game watching. I expect I’ll meet my end in the same way with some lethal combination of computer and Orioles delivering the final blow.

If you want to read the article about Wild Bill Hagy, you can find it here. There’s another article about WBH: here.

What words could I possibly use to capture the memory of Wild Bill and those magical Oriole times that would describe in any meaningful way what it was like to live them? I can describe Wild Bill, and what it was like to be a fan, but if you weren’t there and you didn’t experience it first-hand, any picture you could create in your imagination would only have half the color palette in the muted pastels of a canvas left bleaching in the hot sun for twenty years. The vibrations of those bright colors are tucked away inside of those of us who were privileged enough to be there then.

As many have said, Wild Bill was an icon at Memorial Stadium. He kept us cheering right through those bottom of the seventh and eighth and ninth inning comebacks that were so common in ‘79. Memorial Stadium during the those years was full of energy and enthusiasm in a time when things were simpler, and when the fans were present at the game. In those days, there may have been a smattering of Ys or BoSox fans, but they would never have been able to generate the noise that they do now. The O’s were our team and Memorial Stadium was our stadium and a Ys fan who got too loud-mouthed didn’t make it through the game without a nice punch to the nose and a lot of cheers and egging on by the fans.

Since the seats were never sold out, and baseball wasn’t a yuppy institution, the ushers never complained when we moved seats. Even when my friends and I had tickets in a reserved section, we would move to Wild Bill’s 34, if there was room. Sometimes we had to sit on the other side in Section 35. If you could see a picture of the crowd in those days, you’d see a full 34 all around Hagy and a smattering of fans in the rest of the stadium. You’d probably also see a fair amount of pot smoke emanating from that section. It was the 70s, after all.

Once WBH became an accepted institution at Memstad, in the late innings he would sometimes be invited to do the Os cheer on the Orioles dugout. He would lead the entire stadium in a thunderous cheer. The only thing better than Wild Bill doing the cheer on the dugout was Wild Bill and Dempsey (another great icon) doing the cheer on the dugout. And that was usually followed by the ballgirls doing flips on the dugout. From my house across the street, if I wasn’t at the game, I could still hear the O-R-I-O-L-E-S, ORIOLES!!

When I was at Cooperstown, the “O!” during the National Anthem sent chills through me in the same way those cheers used to. Somewhere behind me before the Induction Ceremony started, there was an O’s cheer that we all joined into. Had I known, had it occurred to me that it was Wild Bill leading it, I would have gladly and quickly abandoned my special VIP seats, and climbed over people and fences to go sit in his section. I am so happy to hear that Wild Bill was present at Cal’s induction, because surely it meant as much to him as it did to me.

At my tender age during the years of the Oriole Way, I had no idea that the Orioles Magic would ever end, that things wouldn’t always be the way they were then, that one day there wouldn’t be a Memorial Stadium anymore, that baseball would change the way it has, but I knew I was a witnessing and part of something exceptional and extraordinary.

I have a hard time meeting other devout Orioles fans, and I realize as I write this the uniqueness of my experience. It would be impossible to grow up during that era, drinking in the Orioles every day, whether I was at the game, or at home listening to Chuck Thompson on the radio, and the crowd and the beloved Rex Barney through my bedroom window, and not be permanently shaped by it. It explains how I can still be a die-hard Orioles fan, 500 miles away, year after heart-breaking year, how I can be so grateful to watch any (every) Orioles game on MASN whether they’re winning or getting clobbered.

Wild Bill definitely was a large part in creating those times that I treasure so much in my memory.

He is Not Dead

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand, (and a big white hat)
He has wandered into an unknown land (a richer land now)
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you–oh, you, who the wildest yearn (Wild Bill, we do yearn)
For an old-time step, and the glad return, (bring back the Oriole Way)
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead–he is just away. (Save me a seat)

~James Whitcomb Riley

Rest in peace Wild Bill. Thanks for all the memories. We’ll never forget you. If there is a heaven, Wild Bill, please save me a seat in the Orioles section with Chuck, and Rex, but I’m keeping my halter top on!

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14. August 2007 by Orioles Fanatic.

Last night when I was watching the Os/Ys game. The camera showed the footage of the Y fans fighting over the homerun ball. The camera didn’t show it, but a minute later Jim Hunter said, “they fight over it and then throw it back onto the field.”

Throw it back on the field? Is that what he said? I turned to my husband and said, “See, that’s just like a Ys fan [except I soiled my mouth by saying the word]. That’s why I hate them.”

Tonight a friend informed me that it’s a nationwide trend, started by the Cubs fans. When someone from the opposing team hits a homerun ball, the fans throw it back onto the field. Then, the ushers, stashed with balls, hand a new one over to the fan.

I am appalled! Appalled!

Let’s start with the pregame announcement I heard for every home game at Memorial Stadium for 22 years. I used to know it by heart, and while I don’t remember all of it, I do remember this, “Fans may not interfere with a ball still in play. Violators will be subject to fine, imprisonment or both. Thank Youuuu.” (The thank you would trail off in that unique Rex Barney way. Oh, how we loved him. But I digress.)

If there is one rule that is sacred to a fan it is to not interfere with the game! Throwing a ball back onto the field so that either the player or a member of the grounds crew has to attend to it is inappropriate.

Furthermore, how unsportsman like! Maybe I need to lighten up, maybe I’m just old, but it strikes me as very childish and disrespectful. Or maybe this is just how we’ve become in general, disrespectful, of people, of things, our environment, our politics, the law, honesty, integrity, our families, civics, our communities, etc. etc. I hope Os fans don’t adopt this practice and even though it goes without saying, prove ourselves classier than fans in other parks.

We’re better than that.

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