Yeeeee-Haw! What a weekend for the O’s! After last week’s mediocre 3-3 home stand, the Birds were three games under .500 and four games out of the second wild card heading to Beantown to play a Sox team that had won 8 out of 11 and had a comfortable cushion atop the A.L. East. You kind of got the feeling that this quick roadie up north could potentially break the birds once and for all. Welp, that’s why feelings are stupid and should be avoided at all costs. My therapist has told me time and time again that it is better to feel nothing than feel sad. But, damn, after Friday night’s 20 hit 16 run demolition, Saturday’s gem from “Gausy,” aided by an awesome at-bat culminating in a 3-run-homer by,”Swaggy T,” and Sunday’s stressful, gritty 2-1 win, it was hard not to feel some excitement. The O’s return home for a ten game home stand only two back of the second wild card.
(Update: After beating Seattle 7-6 last night, winning their 5th in a row, the Birds are only 1.5 games out of the second wild card. Can you feel it? Meaningful September baseball…Love this stuff.)
(Update #2: That’s another sweep,baby!! 7 in a row after nice comeback win. The O’s may never lose again. )
It’s always sweet to win in Fenway, but to outscore the Sox 25-4 en route to a three game sweep was extra sweet, kind of like sucking from the teet of a honey bee that’s fleeing a bear. Redsox fans are a bunch of entitled, bandwagon hopping, racist, petty criminals so it’s always nice to watch them leave the stadium unhappy. The most infuriating experience I’ve ever had with a Sox fan happened at Camden Yards about 10 years ago. I was with a group of about six guys and we were in the upper deck sitting behind an infestation of gross red. The national anthem was being sung and ,obviously, when it was time, we all yelled “O.” This disgusting old lobster turns around and in her cringe inducing accent says, “shame on you boys.” If that isn’t entitlement, to come to an away ballpark and yell at a bunch of home fans for participating in a well known tradition, I don’t know what is. After the game we kidnapped her and traded her on Craigslist for a gently used loveseat.
In other news, The Ravens played their third preseason game.
While watching the Birds kick Boston’s ass this weekend, I couldn’t help but fantasize about what I’d put on the back on my jersey if I were a part of, “Players Weekend,”. It would have been an agonizing decision for someone like myself who is in a constant fight to be clever against dulling anti-depressants and bad genes. That being said, I was ashamed and embarrassed for the players who just had their regular last name on their jersey. Just think of anything! Use the hockey nickname playbook, cut your last name in half and throw a “y,” on the end. There could not be a stronger dead giveaway for a lame ass than not being able to come up with anything besides your own last name. That would be like offering someone a trip anywhere in the world and watching them drift off into thought and then grunt and say,”gee-wiz, ya know what, I’ll take a ride to Highs for some Pepsi.” To be fair to those who didn’t participate, a lot of those who did had pretty lame nicknames. Red Sox closer Craig Kimbrel’s nickname of ,”Dirty Craig,” solidified the already solidified fact that he must be an insufferable human to be around. The odds of that turd being a fun hang are equivalent to the odds of Donald Trump being able to tie a cherry stem with just his mouth.
Possible nicknames/phrases/innuendos/words that would have been better than a players boring ass last name…
A final unrelated thought…
Last week, I had the awesome opportunity to go to Havana, Cuba and I would highly reccommend going if you have the chance. One of my favorite parts about the city of Havana is the ever apparent, radiating love and excitement for baseball. I swear you can literally feel it. Our tour guide oozed love for baseball and she took us to Havana’s Central Park where they have an area called the “Hot Corner.” Everyday, baseball fans gather there and scream and yell about baseball for hours at a time. They argue, laugh, do their best impressions of Yasiel Puig’s swing, make predictions on who will win the Cuban Series and debate whether or not they respect Cuban players decision’s to defect to the United States and play in MLB. Their passion is refreshing. As a lifelong lover of the game, it was truly exciting to witness and, just for a few minutes, be a part of. I started talking to this older guy who spoke decent English and I told him I was a fan of the Baltimore Orioles. His face lit up and he said, “Dan Duquette, best GM in the game. The man is a mago(Spanish for wizard).” He said, in Cuba they call him, “Hombre con un plan, Dan.”