When I became an Oriole fan in the early 1970s there used to be a billboard advertising Oriole baseball as an exciting drama in 18 acts, at least. On Wednesday afternoon at Camden Yards before a small matinee audience those half-innings turned into 22 acts with the final one being as dramatic as it gets.
The Birds came from behind twice, once to tie with five runs in the bottom of the eighth, and second to overcome a two-run deficit in the 11th beating the Blue Jays, 12-10, on rookie left fielder Nolan Reimold’s three-run home run. Cliché number 676 about baseball is that it is a game of redemption, a concept dear to Branch Rickey’s heart and a place where all fans meet, regardless of religion, race and politics.
Reimold has been in the major leagues only since early May and owns potentially a great baseball name, Nolan Reimold. It has rhythm and uniqueness (Maybe soon he will have a fungus named after him? A rye mold?) Earlier in yesterday's game he struck out on three pitches as a pinch-hitter and then a second time on a borderline 3-2 low strike that was too close to take but took it he did. O's manager Dave Trembley bucked up his spirits, telling him to forget about it because he’d get another chance. And sure enough he delivered into the left field seats on a 1-1 pitch off Brian Wolfe, sending the once-first place Jays to their ninth loss in a row.
Baltimore manager Trembley has been drawing comparison to Tampa Bay’s Joe Maddon as a hard-working but player-oriented manager who wants the game to be played right but as fun, too. Only one of four managers in baseball history never to have played professional baseball, Trembley did play as an amateur and managed more than 2000 minor league games before he got his chance with the Orioles two years ago.
There is nothing like a topsy-turvy baseball game to draw you into its vortex, even addict you. Admittedly, there are not many games like yesterday. Baseball arbitrator Peter Seitz, famous for his Messersmith-McNally decision that opened the doors to free agency, once said to me that perhaps one in six are truly memorable games, but you never know when they might occur so you keep watching and hope for the magic moments.
LOW’N’FISH ‘N’ CHIPS:
During Sunday’s Washington-Baltimore inter-league game, 90-year-old Cleveland’s Hall of Fame pitcher Bob Feller was a TV guest on the combined Orioles-Nationals MASN cable network. He told a story about his first appearance in the Major Leagues in a mop-up role against the Washington Senators at their old Griffith Stadium in 1936.
“I hit the first batter, Red Kress, in the side and they carried him off on a stretcher,” Feller said chuckling at the memory of the effects of his 100 mph fastball. “I got my first strikeout on the next batter, Buddy Lewis, who didn’t get near the plate.” When broadcaster Jim Palmer, a fellow Hall of Fame pitcher, asked Feller if he also possessed a good curve ball, the onetime fireballer quipped with mock-indignation, “They used to call it an epileptic snake.”
One of the special moments in researching my biography "Branch Rickey: Baseball’s Ferocious Gentleman" was discovering that Feller had appeared on the same Chicago stage as Rickey in 1938 at a commemoration of the 200th anniversary of John Wesley’s “strange warming of the heart,” the transformative moment at a meeting on Aldersgate Street in London that led Wesley to found the Methodist religion. Feller was in Chicago with his pastor who told the large audience that the young pitcher was a regular parishioner.
I have yet to ask Feller for his memory of this occasion and any other encounters he might have had with Branch Rickey but it goes to show you how deep the bond has been between religion and baseball in our national character. And if you gauge by the number of players these days who point to the heavens after doing something good on a baseball field, it still is deep though more superficial.
Religion and sport is a deep and heavy topic not to be delved into today. Instead, as the Tigers come into Baltimore for four games with heralded rookie catcher Matt Wieters making his debut Friday night, I say: “Go, Orioles!”
The Birds came from behind twice, once to tie with five runs in the bottom of the eighth, and second to overcome a two-run deficit in the 11th beating the Blue Jays, 12-10, on rookie left fielder Nolan Reimold’s three-run home run. Cliché number 676 about baseball is that it is a game of redemption, a concept dear to Branch Rickey’s heart and a place where all fans meet, regardless of religion, race and politics.
Reimold has been in the major leagues only since early May and owns potentially a great baseball name, Nolan Reimold. It has rhythm and uniqueness (Maybe soon he will have a fungus named after him? A rye mold?) Earlier in yesterday's game he struck out on three pitches as a pinch-hitter and then a second time on a borderline 3-2 low strike that was too close to take but took it he did. O's manager Dave Trembley bucked up his spirits, telling him to forget about it because he’d get another chance. And sure enough he delivered into the left field seats on a 1-1 pitch off Brian Wolfe, sending the once-first place Jays to their ninth loss in a row.
Baltimore manager Trembley has been drawing comparison to Tampa Bay’s Joe Maddon as a hard-working but player-oriented manager who wants the game to be played right but as fun, too. Only one of four managers in baseball history never to have played professional baseball, Trembley did play as an amateur and managed more than 2000 minor league games before he got his chance with the Orioles two years ago.
There is nothing like a topsy-turvy baseball game to draw you into its vortex, even addict you. Admittedly, there are not many games like yesterday. Baseball arbitrator Peter Seitz, famous for his Messersmith-McNally decision that opened the doors to free agency, once said to me that perhaps one in six are truly memorable games, but you never know when they might occur so you keep watching and hope for the magic moments.
LOW’N’FISH ‘N’ CHIPS:
During Sunday’s Washington-Baltimore inter-league game, 90-year-old Cleveland’s Hall of Fame pitcher Bob Feller was a TV guest on the combined Orioles-Nationals MASN cable network. He told a story about his first appearance in the Major Leagues in a mop-up role against the Washington Senators at their old Griffith Stadium in 1936.
“I hit the first batter, Red Kress, in the side and they carried him off on a stretcher,” Feller said chuckling at the memory of the effects of his 100 mph fastball. “I got my first strikeout on the next batter, Buddy Lewis, who didn’t get near the plate.” When broadcaster Jim Palmer, a fellow Hall of Fame pitcher, asked Feller if he also possessed a good curve ball, the onetime fireballer quipped with mock-indignation, “They used to call it an epileptic snake.”
One of the special moments in researching my biography "Branch Rickey: Baseball’s Ferocious Gentleman" was discovering that Feller had appeared on the same Chicago stage as Rickey in 1938 at a commemoration of the 200th anniversary of John Wesley’s “strange warming of the heart,” the transformative moment at a meeting on Aldersgate Street in London that led Wesley to found the Methodist religion. Feller was in Chicago with his pastor who told the large audience that the young pitcher was a regular parishioner.
I have yet to ask Feller for his memory of this occasion and any other encounters he might have had with Branch Rickey but it goes to show you how deep the bond has been between religion and baseball in our national character. And if you gauge by the number of players these days who point to the heavens after doing something good on a baseball field, it still is deep though more superficial.
Religion and sport is a deep and heavy topic not to be delved into today. Instead, as the Tigers come into Baltimore for four games with heralded rookie catcher Matt Wieters making his debut Friday night, I say: “Go, Orioles!”