Part 2: Grant Turns Four

“Never forget, there is a heartbeat in this game.” ~ Joe Torre, former player & manager (Baseball Hall of Fame, 2014)

grant

Here’s Grant.

Yesterday, Grant turned four. And, all he wanted to do for his birthday was to play some ball with his dad at the nearby baseball diamond.

We were nearby, too. We had just transported and released a spotted turtle to a lakeside just a few blocks away.

turtle1

(Click here for Part 1 and relive the spotted turtle adventure.)

Just as we were driving off, I saw the baseball diamond.

“Let’s stop here,” I said to Editor/Husband when I spotted the diamond. Or, maybe it was something more like a shouted, “HEY! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU??? STOP!!!” just to make sure we didn’t drive too fast, too far away.

And, that’s where we found Grant and his dad. Playing ball.

Grant would like you to know that he is a Washington Nationals’ fan and Bryce Harper is his favorite player.

Grant has the swagger of a big leaguer. He knows how to swing the bat,

batting

knock the dirt off his cleats, and dig into the batter’s box.

batterup

“When I hit the ball, I do want to hurt it.” ~ Bryce Harper, OF, Washington Nationals

hit

He’s got pretty good speed for being only four, and the sort of youthful stamina …

baserunner

… that runs out every home run full-tilt as if it was a thisclose inside-the-parker.

He can slide feet first whether he needs to or not.

safe slide

And, his very first head-first slide into home is documented here.

headslide1

When pitching, he has an intimidating stare …

this is grant

… an unorthodox pitching style that occasionally includes standing behind the rubber …

pitching3

… and the confidence to shake off the catcher whenever necessary.

pitcher4

“I’m really trying to be a pitcher out there. I’m not trying to light up the radar gun all the time.”  ~ Stephen Strasburg, P, Washington Nationals

As for fielding …

“A player running the bases shall be out, if the ball is in the hands of an adversary on the base, or the runner is touched with it before he makes his base; it being understood, however, that in no instance is a ball to be thrown at him. ~ The Knickerbocker Rules, 1845.

fielding

Well, they’re working on that.

“I just like to play the game.” ~ Ryan Zimmerman, INF, Washington Nationals

ballplayer

Happy Birthday, Grant.

You’re why I love baseball.

(Oh, and P.S. I know you love the Nats and all, but couldn’t you just give the Orioles a try?)

Photos: Saturday, May 24, 2014, Fawn Lakes Baseball Diamond, Spotsylvania, Virginia

(Thank you to Grant and his dad, Shane Reid.)

 ________________________________

Part 1 ~ There You Go, Turtle!

 

Part 1: There You Go, Turtle!

There are some people in my world who believe that all I do on weekends is baseball-baseball-baseball.

That is laughable.

(Not as laughable as the Orioles-0, Indians-9 game today. Really, boys? Really? It’s CLEVELAND!)

No, not everything is baseball.

Take today for instance.

I released a turtle.

turtle1

Look who came to our house!

Editor/Husband (when he is not editoring or husbanding) works at the Wildlife Center of Virginia, a wild animal hospital.

He’s often asked to cart animals around, picking up patients and, once they’re healed up, returning them to the wild. (He does other stuff there, too, but at the end of the day people only want to hear about the time a bear cub nearly got loose in his Outback.)

Sometimes Editor/Husband’s car will smell a little weird, like a possum family might still be living in there, waiting for a road trip to the Sonic.

(Fun Fact: Sonic really does put jalapeño chunks in its chocolate jalapeño milkshake. I’m still not sure how I feel about this.)

Last night, he brought home a spotted turtle, a rather rare species. It had been hit by a lawnmower about a year ago and its shell had been badly injured. Shell-healing is, not surprisingly, slow-going for turtles.

Here’s what you need to know about spotted turtles.

They can have up to 92 spots on their upper shell, head, neck, and legs. Ours is disappointingly light on the polka-dots, although I didn’t think to count.

A turtle’s upper shell is called a carapace. Our turtle has a dark chin and brown eyes – which means he is probably a male. Some experts have described the mating habits of spotted turtles as “frantic.”

A spotted turtle can live to be 50, if he is careful and stays off of roads and out of the way of lawnmowers.

wildlifecenter

World Turtle Day is celebrated every May 23.

The Wildlife Center releases its healed-up reptile patients as close to their original homes as possible. This is especially important for turtles who have some sort of “Home Sweet Home” software wired in their brains that makes them serious homebodies.

Which is kind of funny if you think about it, since turtles carry their homes on their backs like little RV campers. Come to find out, they don’t even really like going anywhere.

Their shells hold all their worldly possessions. (Turtles travel light and their shell, some insides, four legs, a head and a tail, are pretty much it for worldly possessions, but if they had stuff, I suspect they’d just cram it into their shell, like we cram mints, spare change, keys, iPhones, and shopping lists into our pockets.)

So, we took turtle back to his original “home.”

This turtle, we discovered, like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, had been living the good life in a very pretty gated community, filled with pretty homes ringed by perfect gardens and swimming pools and walking trails and country clubs and tennis courts.

Turtle had chosen well.  I wish someone would release me there

fawn lake

We found a quiet little side lake for the turtle …

pretty

… away from the road and lawnmowers and away from the lady who was afraid we were releasing baby geese into the lake and came running over in a panic to tell us how the geese were pooping on her lawn.

poopers

Poopers.

We showed her the turtle and she calmed down.

“Oh, I like turtles.”

Turtles, apparently, have a prozac-like effect on some people.

So we opened the box, and set turtle on the bank.

turtle on the bank

And, off turtle went.

turtle on the bank2

 

turtle swimming

All wet and swimmy and happy, I guess.  Turtles keep a pretty good poker face. But, if I was a turtle, healed up and free and back home in a nice gated community, on a lake filled with pollywogs and geese, on a beautiful sunshiney Saturday, I’d probably be a pretty happy turtle …

Even if some of the hospital stick-um from my shell-healing was still on my back.

turtle stickum

__________

 

Wait, really, no baseball?  …

And, just as we are pulling out to leave the pretty gated community with the swimming pools and tennis courts and … hey, wait a second … stop the car!!!!  What’s that over there?

home

click here for Part 2 …

 

 

An Incredibly Perfect Pie

My mom made an incredibly perfect pie.

Nearly every single one ever … perfect.

(If there was an imperfect pie from time to time, my mother was no frugal cook. She had no respect for cooks who would serve something that was a little off. When an imperfection did come up in her kitchen, no matter how small, she would dump the offending item down the garbage disposal with the efficiency of a cold, calculating hit man. Dump. Gone. She was scary that way.)

So, I thought for Mother’s Day, I would celebrate my mom’s pies.

And, as I was writing this, it struck me. My mom didn’t even like pie.

She’s not around to ask, but I’m suddenly very sure of this.

I think she found pies old fashioned and uninteresting.

I, on the other hand, loved pie.

Fruit pies, and especially rhubarb and juneberry pies, were kitschy and old fashioned and I wanted to be the interesting girl who liked the quirky pies.

My dad liked chocolate pie. No fancy chocolate pie, just the pudding-mix sort.

This must have been incredibly insulting to my mom who would have happily melted exotic chocolates in a double boiler to create a delicious pie.

So, she made me quirky pies and she made him chocolate pudding-mix pies.

But, now that I think about it, I never recall her ever eating a piece of pie, unless she was just being sociable, or to take a quick taste of what she had baked (and to ensure that she shouldn’t throw it out and start over). She was a nose-crinkler when something wasn’t quite right. And, I think I saw her take a small bite of pie from time to time and crinkle her nose the same way I do when the milk in the fridge doesn’t smell quite right.

My mom may have disliked pie, but she made some of the best.

(You may say that your mom made the best pie in the world, but this is my post and you are wrong.)

So, in honor of Mother’s Day, here’s a quick celebration of pie, with a little baseball on the side …

1) Pie-ing the hero of a baseball game is classy.

(Gatorade dumping, in contrast, is stupid and rarely hits the intended target.)

The Baltimore Orioles have made the pie game an art.

Last season, the Orioles even gave away tee-shirts honoring their pie-in-the-face fun.

shaving cream pie tee shirt

Traditionally, face-smash pies were made of shaving cream, presumably because ballplayers don’t have time to whip up a light and eggy custard pie. (And, as many players go shave-free during the season, I suppose there is plenty of excess shaving cream just sitting around.)

Eyes were burned with shaving cream pies.

This year, Dangerously Delicious Pies in Baltimore is supplying two real pies for every home game – just for pie-ing the hero of the game. (Spoiler Alert: No pie-ing today, the Orioles lost.)

Here’s what a proper pie-ing looks like …

clevenger pie

“It tastes pretty good.”

Catcher Steve Clevenger’s walk-off RBI double wins the game for the Orioles in the 10th against the Houston Astros on Saturday night.

But, there are some players who, through their tenure and superstar status, are exempt from pie-ing.

Orioles right fielder Nick Markakis is one of them.

Here’s how you appropriately pie a superstar veteran when his hit wins the game …

Markakis 2

April 26 vs the KC Royals.

(Please note at the :50 mark when someone from the bullpen – I don’t know who – leans over and tastes the pie off of the ground. This is why I love bullpen pitchers. Because they are weird.)

When the Orioles win the World Series this year (and they will), we will look back at this magical Markakis (and J.J. Hardy) moment and think, “But, of course.”

2) My mom taught me a lot, including how to make a pie crust.

pie postcard

I’m not a particularly fast learner and it took her a few years before I got it right. My mother was not a patient teacher and I think she was, deep down, embarrassed that it took me so long to figure it out.

The trick is cold vegetable shortening and ice cold water.

My mother would tell you this about that …

Yes, vegetable shortening. (Butter has its place in this world, but not in a pie crust. Unless you make your living slinging pies, just swallow your pride and stick to shortening.)

My mother would dismissively nose-crinkle you if you miss the important nuance of the water. Tap water is not “ice cold.” Ice cold tells you right there in its name that you need ice in your water, got it?

Here’s pretty much the pie crust recipe she taught me.

You may now roll out your perfect dough and commence to making the pie of your choice.

3) This is Felix Pie.

Felix Pie

Photo Courtesy of Keith Allison CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0), via Wikimedia Commons

It is correctly pronounced “Pee-AY”, but I always called him Mr. Pie.

Felix Pie played for the Orioles, mainly in a utility role, from 2009 to 2011. He played for the Pirates last year, and seems to be playing for a South Korean team now.

I can’t think of any other reason to mention him here, except that he will always be Mr. Pie to me.

___________________

I can’t believe I just realized that my mom hated pie.

But, she made them anyway because I liked them.

I miss those pies. Thanks, mom.

Mom & me, sometime in the post-Mets years.  She could rock those sunglasses indoors & out!

 

 

This Is Sam.

sam

This is Sam.

Sam calls me from time to time … sometimes twice a day, sometimes more.

Most days I don’t answer.  (Sorry Sam, baseball season is a very busy time for me.)

But, I have talked to him.

Sam says he’s from Microsoft Windows and that he has been monitoring my computer and that I am uploading malicious things.  He must mean these blog posts.

(Hurtful, Sam. And, stop hating on baseball.)

Sam is a scam.

But, he’s a tenacious fellow and just keeps calling.

Sam called one night at 10:30.  You shouldn’t call us after 10 p.m. unless you are:

1) Baltimore Orioles Manager Buck Showalter calling Editor/Husband for bullpen advice. Editor/Husband will tell Buck, “For God’s sake, Buck, what in the world are you doing? Keep Britton out there for the ninth. He’s fine. FINE! Tommy Hunter … what the hell??  Why is he warming up?  You just want to lose this game, don’t you? Well, now we’re going to lose. Great.”

(Actually, we won and Tommy Hunter got the save.  But, Editor/Husband is still asputter.)

2) There is no #2.  Orioles Manager Buck Showalter can call after 10 p.m.  You can’t.

tommy hunter liner

Tommy Hunter For The Save!

Usually, we just let the phone ring when we see that it’s Sam.

The other day, though, I decided I would talk to him again.

I wanted to ask Sam why he had a job whose main description is, best I can tell, to take advantage of, and steal from, innocent people.

I thought it would be interesting to ask a crook why he was crooking. I figured I could reason with Sam.

“Why do you hurt people, Sam? Why are you trying to steal from me?”

My tough love question would pierce his heart. There would be an uncomfortably long pause as Sam thought deeply about what I had said. Then Sam, seeing the error of his ways, would thank me for setting him right. He would leave his job of cheating and hurting people and set off on a new course of helping people.

After a time of reflection, Sam would start a volunteer-run food pantry in his village … his small way of giving back to humanity. One day – a year or two from now – Sam would call me again.  “Thank you,” he would say softly.  “You have changed my life.”

You may think I’m making this up for the sake of this post. I assure you, I am the idiot you think I am. I really believed this would happen.

I had it all planned out … I had my dialogue and Sam’s.  (Although in the movie version Sam’s English, while still fractured, would be much easier to understand.)

This could not go wrong.

I did my part just right.

I interrupted his spiel, “Sam? Sam? Sam, wait, can I ask you a question?”

Pause. Then “Yes.”

“Sam, I know that you’re not with Windows. I know that there’s nothing wrong with my computer. I know that you’re being dishonest. Why would you do that? Why would you try to hurt me and other people by lying about who you are? Why are you trying to steal from me?”

Then I waited for the long and remorseful pause from Sam.

And, this is when he started yelling at me.

Sam was yelling about my computer doing malicious things. And, my Windows ID number that he had, but that I did not.  He started yelling a long string of random numbers and letters.

“There! There! That is your ID number. You do not know your ID number! Do YOU???  DO YOU??? Tell me your ID number! You can’t!  You do not know it! I do! I have your ID number! What is it? Tell me! TELL ME!!”

This was crazy talk. Sam was ruining everything.

“Stop yelling at me. I don’t like to be yelled at.”

I told him I was going to hang up. (I’m exceedingly polite at times.) “Sam. I am hanging up now.” And, I did.

I’m sort of sad about Sam, but I know that he is so far up in the crooking business that it would take more than one person to pull him out.

I’m also mad at Sam for being a crook and for ruining my plan and ruining this post.

Sam called again the other day. But, I didn’t take his call. My heart just wasn’t in it.

All I can do is ask you this.

If some day soon you get a call from a U.S. Cellular number somewhere in Maine, it might be Sam.  Please tell him “hi” for me. Maybe you can reason with him.

The Fortune Cookie Speaks

defeat fortune new

For 17 hours this week, the Baltimore Orioles led the American League East.  Ahead of the New York Yankees.  Ahead of the World Champion Boston Red Sox.

It was a nice 17 hours, although, truthfully, several of those hours were in the middle of the night when I couldn’t really enjoy it fully.

They say one shouldn’t live in the past, but I hope you won’t mind if I just …

we're no 1

May 2, 2014

What a whirlwind, crazy, exciting ride it was.

The Orioles promptly lost their next two games.

No more number one.

(I believe at one point today as the Orioles were losing to the Minnesota Twins I said they “suckity suck suck.” This is the clever kind of thing that baseball fans say when they’re being betrayed by the players they love.)

There is a week that comes in every baseball season, when a private, quiet kind of panic begins to set in for fans of teams that are not number one.

This is that week.

A week ago, Editor/Husband and I went to our first Orioles game of the season.  (Yes, it is a six-hour round-trip drive. He is the best.)

The scrappy Orioles played the equally scrappy Kansas City Royals.

We lost 9-3.

But, the sun was shining. 3,500 Little Leaguers were there. I took these pictures. So really the day wasn’t a total loss.

tillman2

Here’s Orioles Pitcher Chris Tillman out by the bullpen. Four days later, against the Pirates he would throw 49 pitches in the top of the first and walk in two runs. The Orioles won anyway.

And, as a big fan of the bullpen and relief pitchers, I’m delighted to see they’ve dressed up the place with flowers.

ducks

These are ducks just behind center field.

little league2

These are Little Leaguers. More than 3,500 of them paraded around the ballpark before the game. It took more than an hour. The Orioles said “hi.”

Once again, I am besieged by protective netting. Let’s play “Guess The Infielder!”

??????????

Gold Glove Shortstop J.J. Hardy.

Lombo bw

Second Baseman Steve Lombardozzi.

markakis ghost

It’s a trick! It’s Right Fielder Nick Markakis playing first base, subbing for the injured Chris Davis.

bullpen

Obligatory bullpen shot. Hi fellas, stay warm!

clevenger bw

Orioles backup catch Steve Clevenger, born in Baltimore in the nearby neighborhood called Pigtown.

kid2

This is a kid who’s excited to be at a baseball game. He is a wide-eyed innocent who believes in his team and in a world that is just and fair.

sad kid

This is a kid whose favorite team is rolling over to the Royals. I think he’s aged a bit this afternoon, and from here on out every smile will be tinged with just a hint of sadness.

jjhardy bw compressed

Shortstop J.J. Hardy knew that if he stopped mid-game to pose for my photo he would get to appear in this post twice. Congratulations, Mr. Hardy.

despair fortune cookie

OK, maybe it’s too early to panic.

We’re number two.

 

Photos: Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, Maryland. April 27, 2014.

Kansas City Royals – 9.  Baltimore Orioles – 3. 

3 Jackies. 1 Stevie. 100 Posts. Go.

“Once a woman becomes a (baseball) fan, she is the best fan in the world.” ~ Bill Veeck, Baseball Team Owner, Promoter & Innovator

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Postcard, circa 1910.

This is my 100th post on this blog.

(I know, really, crazy isn’t it? I sure do type a lot.)

And, here’s Stevie’s 20th random appearance!

hi.

hi.

I like to think that my parents named me for Jackie Robinson, although I know they didn’t.

I wasn’t named for Jackie Mitchell either, but that would have been nice, too. I’m pretty certain that my parents had never heard of Jackie Mitchell which is a shame.

(You haven’t either? Sigh.)

In 1931, Mitchell was the first woman to get a professional minor league baseball contract, signing with the Double A Chattanooga Lookouts. She had one good pitch – a sinking curveball that broadcasters today would probably call “filthy.”

In a 1931 exhibition game against the Yankees, Mitchell, just 18 years old, struck out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig on just seven pitches. (Ruth threw his bat, grumbled angrily, and had to be led back to the dugout by teammates.)

jackie babe and lou

Jackie Mitchell, Babe Ruth, & Lou Gehrig. April 1931. ~ public domain image

Some argue that Ruth and Gehrig struck out on purpose that day, just for a gag. But, some big boy egos must have been bruised because just a few days later Baseball Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis voided Mitchell’s contract because baseball was “too strenuous” for women, particularly those with nasty curveballs.

Some of my favorite baseball “guys” are girls.

And, since this is blog post #100, I was going to list 100 of them for you. (Cute, right?) But, Editor/Husband got overwhelmed by my loving and long list of names and suggested that I mention just a few instead. (Killjoy.)

Jackie Mitchell was striking out superstars 83 years ago.

Jennie Finch did the very same thing in 2004. (You should hear the excuses people made for Barry Bonds and Albert Pujols who were “struck out by a girl.” Actually, they were the very same “they struck out on purpose” excuses made for Ruth and Gehrig decades earlier. But, Pujols admits, she blew the ball by him.)

lizzie murphy

Lizzie “Spike” Murphy. ~ public domain image

Lizzie “Spike” Murphy played with, and against, men in countless semipro, barnstorming, and exhibition games between 1918 and 1935.

Even the great pitcher Satchel Paige couldn’t get her out (she singled) and she played with some of the era’s greatest male players as a member of American League and National League All-Star teams in games against the Boston Red Sox and the Boston (now Atlanta) Braves.

Hundreds of “Bloomer Girls” teams prowled the country from the 1890s through the early 1930s taking on whatever men’s local, semipro, or minor league teams they could find.

1913 baseball girl

Bloomer Girl, 1913. ~ public domain image, Library of Congress

They were followed by the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League (1943-1954). And, many women of color, denied a place on still-segregated All-American Girls’ teams, played alongside men in the Negro Leagues.

tubby2

Kay “Tubby” Johnston, Little Leaguer. 1950 ~ courtesy of Kay Johnston Massar

Kay “Tubby” Johnston Massar disguised herself as a boy so she could play Little League in Corning, New York in 1950.

(I’ve written more about “Tubby” Johnston and her Little League season here.)

julie croteau

In the late 1980s and 1990s, Virginian Julie Croteau played men’s NCAA baseball and later coached NCAA men’s baseball teams, including at Division I University of Massachusetts, and had a long career at the semipro level. She is also one of only two women to play in Major League Winter League ball.

ila borders

In 1998, pitcher Ila Borders became the first woman to win a minor league game during the modern era (with the independent league Duluth Dukes).

There are other amazing trailblazers, too. So many. Many played against men. Others broke barriers as umpires, trainers, front office executives, announcers, and reporters.

I’m just a fan.

But, we fans need our role models, too.

So, let me tip my fan-cap to the most famous “unknown” woman in baseball … “baseball mad” Katie Casey, a fan whose love of the game back in 1908 is recounted during nearly every seventh-inning stretch in the song “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.”

 

If Katie were around today, she’d love great plays at third, a well-stocked bullpen, three-run homers, and the AL East.  She’d never waste an out on a bunt. And, she’d have her own blog. I just know it.

*    *    *

Postscript: It took me a couple weeks to pare this post down to highlight just a few women, eliminating what hatchet-man Editor/Husband called the “blah, blah, blah.” I cut even more on Thursday night … painstakingly deleting fascinating stories, amazing people, and prose that, I’m sure, would have made Grantland Rice jealous.

As I did this, the Baltimore Orioles were playing the second game of a double header against the Pittsburgh Pirates. I watched, I chopped, I watched, I rewrote. Top of the first, Orioles’ ace Chris Tillman loads the bases … walks in a run … walks in another. He threw 49 pitches in just that one half inning.

Hair-pulling time.

Then he settled down. And, then this post was done. And, then, it’s four hours later and this happens …

walkoff

I love baseball.

 

#42

Embed from Getty Images

“A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” ~ Jackie Robinson

On Tuesday, April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson played in a game with the Brooklyn Dodgers. In that moment, he integrated major league ball. Baseball changed. America changed. And, the civil rights movement was moved profoundly forward.

Today, major league baseball celebrates Jackie Robinson – and the impact he had on the game of baseball and on the battle for civil rights. Major league baseball has retired Jackie’s number 42, but, in tonight’s games*, in honor of Jackie, every major league player will wear #42.

Robinson was clear in his autobiography I Never Had It Made that civil rights meant far more than just allowing a black man to play in what was until then a white man’s game. Civil rights in America, he explained, is not won until every person – black or white, male or female, rich or poor – is afforded the same rights and the same fair shake in our society. We’re not there yet.

There’s a “superstar” ballplayer (who goes nameless here) who likes to Tweet a lot and tell reporters that we fans have no idea – no idea – how hard a ballplayer’s job is … how hard it is to live his life and do what he does. I agree. I have no idea how he does what he does out on the field. I know it takes enormous work and dedication to make it to the highest level of sport; to make it look so easy when I know it is not.

But, he has no idea – no idea – what Jackie Robinson endured on the field and off. It was not an easy life for Robinson and he could have walked away. He did not. And, for that, ballplayers and fans alike – all Americans – owe him an enormous debt.

Robinson started and played first base that night. That game, he later said, was a “miserable” one for him. He went 0-for-3, reached base on an error, and scored a run. But, the Dodgers won, defeating the Boston Braves 5-3.

And, America changed forever.

Embed from Getty Images

Thank you, Jackie.

* Tonight’s Baltimore Orioles – Tampa Bay Rays game has been postponed due to rain. They’ll wear their #42 jerseys tomorrow.

 

 

Sleet Happens

The magical and perfect and right thing about baseball is that it is played outside in tune with the seasons.

It begins in the spring as the weather just warms, it heats up in the summer right on cue with the sun, and it winds down in the fall as the temperature, and leaves, and first snows fall.

Games delay for rain and storms.

College ball has a slightly different calendar and baseball can begin in early February.

When temperatures fall to 45 degrees, the University of Virginia promises baseball fans free coffee and hot chocolate.

And, so today, this …

uva 3 31

And, this …

uva 3 31 tweet

Which led to, this …

cocoa

(True confession: This was just the first hot chocolate. It was a two-hot-chocolate kind of day.)

It was in the 40s. It was cold. It was really windy. It was raining.

tarp

It takes a village to raise a child. It takes a team to roll up a soggy tarp.

And, then, sometime in the 7th inning, it started sleeting. Hard.

But, they kept playing.

And, they beat Virginia Tech 7-4, sweeping the series.

When asked about playing in the rain today, UVa’s Mike Papi (2-for-4 today, 6-for-10 in the series) quickly corrected a reporter after the game: “You mean the snow, or sleet, or whatever it was. It wasn’t fun.”

Unhappy Papi

Unhappy Papi

Editor/Husband said he felt like he was on the Edmund Fitzgerald. (Click here you youngsters.)

I’m warm now.

And, major league baseball begins tonight and tomorrow. For real.

Opening Day.

This is it …

It Rained Today

“The umpire-in-chief shall have sole authority to determine when a game shall be called, suspended, or resumed on account of weather or the condition of the playing field.” ~ The Official Rules of Major League Baseball

wet benches

It rained today.

I think it rained everywhere. Except where it snowed.

For those of you just tuning in, we had tickets to today’s Baltimore Orioles vs AAA Norfolk Tides game in Norfolk. The last game of spring training – the irregular season.

It’s a three-hour drive to Norfolk, but we have heated seats, Sirius radio, and cup holders in our car, so, really, no big thing.

But, it was raining. And, raining.

wet railing

And, the heated seats would not be able to warm my waterlogged heart if I got to the game and it wasn’t there.

Luckily, there was a game scheduled at the University of Virginia, too.

over the railing

It was also raining in Charlottesville. But, that rain was two-and-a-half hours closer than Norfolk’s rain.

snow and tarp

Yes, that’s snow in the corner.

UVa decided to start the game a half-hour early in order to the beat the rain that was already here. This is sort of the Bizzaro World version of a rain delay.

(College baseball is funny that way. They change the days and times of games willy-nilly, often with just a moment’s notice. Last week they cancelled a game with Rutgers due to weather on Tuesday and on Thursday Princeton’s team just showed up unannounced, so they played them instead.)

Today, UVa defeated Virginia Tech 9-2 in one of those wonderful state-school grudge match things.

cold and wet

They played through the rain. Nine innings.

We got wet. (I’m still damp.)

Meanwhile, back in Norfolk, they played a few rainy innings (including half-innings that were only two outs long … and one half-inning where no outs were recorded at all). They finally unrolled the tarp and called it a day for their “pretend” game and the Orioles flew off to Baltimore.

And, a quick West Coast Update – Last year, I urged the Oakland A’s to deal with their coliseum’s sewage problem.  Raw sewage had been coming up through the drains in the dugout and the clubhouse. Orioles’ closer Jim Johnson had just been traded to Oakland, and, I thought it would be nice if they cleaned up the place a bit for him.

Clearly, as in many things, no one listened to me.

This today, from equally rainy Oakland, California:

as sewage tweets

as sewage2

Here’s more on the ewwwww. The Oakland A’s vs San Francisco Giants game was cancelled due to rain.

Opening Day … Just one more day.

Don’t Skip The Commercials

“I used to play sports. Then I realized you can buy trophies. Now I’m good at everything.” ~ Demetri Martin

The Baltimore Orioles look like the guys who might deliver a truckload of mulch to your house.

(Did you know that people have truckloads of mulch delivered to their houses? Truckloads. I didn’t know someone would need that much mulch, but apparently there are mulch-mad people out there. I have no idea what you do with mulch. Seriously, I know nothing about mulch.)

The O’s look like the guys who will change the oil in your car, put the gravel on your driveway and push the snow off of it. Ordinary guys.

No crazy, mountain-man beards. (Not allowed.)

No dreadlocks. (Also, not allowed, which was, I’m sure, shear sadness for Jemile Weeks who joined the club fully dreaded in December, but is now the undread.)

No mustaches. (Unless they are “neat.” Yes, that’s the Orioles’ rule. Neatness counts, fellas.)

snidely whiplash

Neat? Not Neat? Close call.

So, no wacky allowed in Birdland. No wacky at all.

I like a little wacky and I know you do, too. (I’ve gotten to know my readers – both of you – and I’ve checked your Facebook pages. I know how you appreciate a healthy dose of irreverence, bad puns, and third-grade potty humor:  What’s the difference between mashed potatoes and pea soup? Anyone can mash potatoes. Really?  Really?)

But, back to the Orioles.

I appreciate Baltimore’s working guy thing. I like that the sports world gives the Orioles no chance … no chance … to do anything in the AL East this season.

As the Orioles will tell you (when they’re not tidying up their mustaches and memorizing the dress code), they like this fly-under-the-radar thing.

No expectations in April will, of course, make their almost-assured World Series championship in October that much sweeter.

Closer Grant Balfour was nearly-almost-thisridiculouslyclose to signing with the Orioles in December. Then, he failed his physical and the deal was off.  But really, I think the deal was off when the Orioles discovered he drove this …

balfour truck

That is not a workingman truck. (And, good luck parking that in Tampa.)

But, back to the Orioles.

They are allowed neatly groomed mustaches, they have a ping-pong table, and on super hot days they get to wear shorts for batting practice.

Other than that, they keep the crazy locked down tight in the clubhouse.

You won’t see any goofy television commercials from Birdland.

(Let’s not blame the team. Let’s blame the team’s PR firm.)

So, check out some new sweet, sassy ads from other teams.

Here’s Minnesota Twins’ legend Kent Hrbek giving playing tips to Joe Mauer.

hrbek1

This Twins’ commercial has a back story. Click here. (Gant was safe, by the way.)

Here are two from the Oakland A’s

The Home Run Tunnel

homerun tunnel

(That’s University of Virginia alum Sean Doolittle with the beard.)

Josh Donaldson’s “Tarp Therapy”

tarp therapy

From the Seattle Mariners

Kyle Seager is Old School

kyle seager

And, Felix Hernandez is King.

king felix

And, from the San Francisco Giants

Mi Amor from Sergio Romo and Buster Posey

buster sergio

The Two Brandons (Belt and Crawford)

brandon2

“New Guy” Michael Morse

mike morse

The Giants, overachievers that they are, have a bunch more and you can see them all here.

But, back to the Orioles.

They picked up a lot of talent in the off-season. Acting chops, too. Who knew?

Here’s the Orioles’ newest starting pitcher Ubaldo Jimenez when he was with the Colorado Rockies in 2011.

ubaldo

And, here’s the Orioles’ newest home run smoosher Nelson Cruz when he was with the Texas Rangers in an ad for a video game in 2010.

nelson cruz

Just two days ’til Opening Day …