Orioles Magic...Feel it Happen

It's been many years since Baltimore had a baseball team that caused any excitement. But this weekend, Oriole fever was back, as Baltimore went crazy in support of hometown hero Cal Ripken (Jr.), who was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

When I was growing up -- and an Oriole world championship was still fresh in the city's memory -- we kids fell into two camps: Cal Ripken fans, and Eddie Murray fans. Cal, of course, was the beloved shortstop and number 3 batter in the lineup. Murray was the cool first baseman, and batted fourth, clean-up. I suppose someone could make up a theory that who you liked more said something about your personality: either you were a fan of the quick and talented shortstop, a hometown hero; or you were a fan of the cool powerhitter, who could always be counted on to bring in the winning runs. Me -- I just liked Cal Ripken because he was cute.

I was working in the Camden Yards warehouse building in 1995 when Cal Ripken broke the iron man record. The feeling around the stadium was electric, and the celebration seemed to last for days. From my cubicle in the warehouse building, I had absolutely no view of the baseball field -- in the pre-law school job, my view was of various medical dictionaries and the men's restroom. But, we would go downstairs at lunchtime to grab a dirty water dog for lunch and enjoy the crazy anticipation of Cal's triumph over Lou Gehrig's longstanding record.

This year, I'm far away from Camden Yards and did not partake in any celebratory activities. But, on Friday night I had a dream about Cal. (Completely G-rated, I promise.) I dreamed that I went to an after hours club on Friday -- that part actually happened -- and when I emerged from the club, someone had manufactured a snowstorm like they did in Dubai, all in honor of Cal's induction. There were piles and piles of fake snow, and Baltimore folk were wearing Orioles jerseys and tossing snowballs at each other. In my dream, I dropped onto the snow and started doing snow angels for Cal.

When I woke up on Saturday morning, two thoughts came to mind. First, I thought it's too bad that Baltimore doesn't have any oil-rich princes/Oriole fans who are willing to sponsor a snowstorm in honor of Cal. That would have been cool. It also occurred to me that perhaps that last beer was not as good an idea as it seemed at the time. (Of course, without the last beer, there would have been no inspiration for the fauxstorm.)