Tough week to be an Orioles fan

I know, I know, you're saying "enough with the baseball already."

But I just got home from a work-related dinner and thought I'd see how my Orioles did in the first game of tonight's doubleheader against the Texas Rangers. The answer? Not so good.

The Orioles had their feel-good afternoon dented in the first half of their doubleheader on Wednesday, when the Rangers steamed ahead to steal the stage from manager Dave Trembley [who was hired for 2008]. Baltimore's pitching staff notched a season-high total for runs allowed in an inning twice and also set a new franchise record for runs allowed in a 30-3 loss.

The 30 runs allowed was the most allowed in American League history and the most in the Majors since 1897. Seven of Texas' starters scored more than once, and four different players -- Ramon Vazquez, Jarrod Saltalamacchia, Marlon Byrd and Travis Metcalf -- drove in at least four runs. Saltalamacchia and David Murphy both scored five times.

"You have to have a real short memory and you let it go," Trembley said after the rout.

Thirty runs? Holy shit. First Wild Bill Hagy dies, then this?

Well, as I write this, it's 3-3 in the third inning of the second game. Nowhere to go but up, I suppose ...

"Wild Bill" Hagy (1939-2007)

As I get older, I'm increasingly reminded of my past by the deaths of celebrities. A very special memory came with the news this morning of "Wild Bill" Hagy's passing at the age of 68.

If you were a Baltimore Orioles fan in the 1970s and early '80s, you knew Wild Bill, or at least who he was. He gained notoriety in 1979, in a pennant-winning season that saw the beginnings of "Oriole Magic," with his famous O-R-I-O-L-E-S body spelling cheer in Section 34 of the old Memorial Stadium in Baltimore. I was born six blocks from Memorial Stadium, and I'm an Orioles lifer. As he was to a lot of people, Wild Bill was special to me, even though I never met him ... but I wish I had.

My favorite example of what kind of guy Wild Bill was involves his reaction to a stadium beer ban in 1985:

In 1985, Mr. Hagy began a boycott of Memorial Stadium because he was no longer allowed to bring his own beer in a cooler. The night before the ban went into effect, he downed nine or 10 beers by his count and then launched his empty cooler from the upper deck onto the field.

He was also distressed at the declining state of the team.

The Orioles tried to bring him back to lead a last cheer during the final game at Memorial Stadium in 1991. But he turned down the request, continuing the boycott.

Yet, although Wild Bill was a man of admirable principle, he also understood Oriole Magic:

He returned, far more quietly, a few years after the team moved to Camden Yards.

He was there Sept. 6, 1995, when Cal Ripken Jr. played in his 2,131st consecutive game. After Mr. Ripken took his lap along the outfield wall, Mr. Hagy led his signature O-R-I-O-L-E-S chant. "This is probably the most amazing love-in you'll ever see in Major League Baseball," he said that night.

Last month, Mr. Hagy traveled to Cooperstown, N.Y., on a bus to watch Mr. Ripken's induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. There, he led one last cheer for the fans sitting on the hillside with him.

Mr. Hagy continued to attend Orioles games at Camden Yards until this year. "I don't think most of the people around me know who I am," he told The Sun in 2004, "and that's OK; I kind of like it that way."

I'm actually welling up a bit as I type this. I was 13 during the 1979 season, and I'll never forget the heartbreak of the seven-game Series loss to the "We-Are-Family" Pirates that year, after the O's were up three games to one. I remember as a freshman in college when I ran through the halls of my dorm when the Birds beat the Phillies in Game 5 to wrap up their 1983 World Series title. I had tears pouring down my cheeks on that memorable night in '95 when Cal broke the consecutive games record. Wild Bill punctuated those memories and many more, and I can still mimic the Wild Bill cheer to this day.

Thanks for the memories, Wild Bill.

Happy 70th birthday, Brooks

Longtime readers may know that I'm a lifelong Baltimore Orioles fan, having been born in Baltimore, where my dad was involved in much of the team's PR as an executive with WJZ-TV 13, the station that carried the O's games in the '60s. So we always had a lot of Orioles paraphernalia around the house, so much so that even after leaving Baltimore when I was still a baby, the orange-and-black love affair stuck.

Today, when baseball fans think of the Orioles (if they do at all, because they have been teh suck for a decade or more), they usually think of Cal Ripken or the team's beautiful ballpark, Camden Yards. But, being "of a certain age," the O's to me always meant my baseball "hero," Brooks Robinson.

So, you'll have to indulge me for a moment, because today is Brooks' 70th birthday. Born in Little Rock, Arkansas, on May 18, 1937, Brooks Robinson became arguably the greatest third baseman in baseball history. Nicknamed "The Human Vacuum Cleaner" for his preternatural fielding ability, Robinson cemented his reputation with play after unbelievable play in the 1970 World Series, which Baltimore won in five games over the Cincinnati Reds. Robinson was MVP of that World Series, one of four in which he played, and he was the American League's MVP in 1964.

He played for one team for 23 seasons (1955-77), an almost unheard-of feat in today's era of free agency. Brooks Robinson was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1983 in his first year of eligibility, and his iconic number 5 has been retired by the Orioles. Today, he continues to serve the game he loves as president of the Major League Baseball Players Alumni Association.

As a kid, I absolutely idolized Brooks Robinson. I always tried to wear #5 on my sports teams, and I jumped at the chance to play third. But I could not get his baseball card, no matter how many packs I purchased. Finally, I got his card in 1976, and I sent it to him for an autograph. Not long after, I received the card back in the mail, signed, and accompanied by a signed picture made out to me personally. Even now, more than 30 years later, that memory stands out from my childhood, and I still have those autographs today.

I've always thought Brooks Robinson was not only a great player, but a class act as a man all the way. And although I've never met him, I still idolize him today: thanks to my now ex-wife's kind indulgence, we have a lasting tribute to Brooks. My daughter's middle name is "Brooke," which when spoken with our last name that starts with "S" sounds a lot like "Brooks." I'm sure a lot of kids have been named for Brooks Robinson, but I wonder how many of them have been girls. (For the record, I did find one, at least.)

So, happy 70th birthday to Brooks Robinson. As far as I'm concerned, you're still the greatest there ever was.

Sports blogging: nice guys finish last

What a way to start a Monday morning.

I have three favorite professional sports teams (I don't follow pro basketball). In the NFL, I've been a fan of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers since their second season, in 1977, and next year will be my 10th with season tickets. My favorite hockey team is the St. Louis Blues, dating back to my law school days in the Gateway to the West. And my longest-standing fave team is the Baltimore Orioles -- I was born in Baltimore and can remember being an Orioles fan as early as 1970, when they won their second World Series.

But today, I learned that The Sporting News recently named the Orioles and the Blues as the worst franchises in their respective sports. And it's not like the Buccaneers (who were "beaten out" by the Oakland Raiders as the worst franchise in the NFL) are much better, since for years (say, until 1997) they were the losingest team in pro sports.

Looking on the bright side, though, at least when people call me a loser, I can imagine they are referring to the teams I follow. (Don't ruin my fantasy here ...)