1997
was a long time ago. I hadn’t learned to
read. The top grossing film was Titanic.
Bill Clinton was still the President of the United States. South
Park had its debut on Comedy Central.
Manny Machado was in kindergarten.
The Orioles were on their way to their last winning season for the next
15 years.
The
birds went wire-to-wire, finishing 98-64, while maintaining their spot atop the
AL east for the entirety of the season.
They became only the seventh team in history to accomplish the
feat. It was their second season in a
row making the playoffs. Orioles Magic
was in full flight. I was 3.
I
grew up in an era when it was sad to be an Orioles fan. Injuries, trades, and senior citizens in
uniforms all contributed to our plight.
We had an owner who wouldn’t do what it takes to win, and managers who
couldn’t do anything to stop the landslide.
It only took a few years for my dad to sell the season tickets.
Besides,
it was easy to go to a game. Just show
up; ask for the best seats in the house.
The tickets wouldn’t be expensive.
We still went to a game or two every year, but after a while losing gets
old. We’d go to the Yankees game, and
the navy Jeter t-shirts would outnumber their orange counterparts, no fail.
This
was my reality. We couldn’t win. We didn’t know how. Even the years that we started out hot,
everyone knew that by August we’d have fallen off the map. Forget about the playoffs. Beating the Yankees once or twice in a season
was the most we could hope for.
Then,
something finally gave. After firing yet
another manager, the O’s were due for some new leadership. We brought Buck Showalter on board and he
vowed to bring us back to relevance in the league. We put “Baltimore” back on the away
jerseys. We reincarnated the cartoon
bird—instantly raising the value of our flat-brims. A new season was coming, and we were ready to
go.
I
went to the game on my birthday, April 11.
The Orioles were playing the Yankees.
After losing in extra-innings the night before, I liked our chances. A week into the season and we were still in
the running. I was a happy camper. The game was a good one, but for the second
night in a row, the Yankees got the win in extras—10 innings, 6-4. It wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for on my
birthday, but I’d take it. After all, I
never got much more than a nice night at the ballpark with my friends when I
went to see the Orioles.
That
was the last time the Orioles lost an extra innings game this year. Since then, they’ve won 16 in a row, one away
from the all-time record 1949 Cleveland Indians’ streak of 17. This goes along with their remarkable 27-9
record in one run games.
So
now, with 2 days left in the regular season, the Orioles have clinched a spot
in the playoffs. They’re one game back
from the Yankees for the lead in the division.
Orioles Magic is back.
There
are a myriad of possibilities that could await them in the coming week, perhaps
even traveling to Oakland for a one game playoff. That doesn’t matter.
We might not win the World
Series. We might not even last 2
games. But I don’t even care. The sensation of winning is so foreign to me
that I hardly know how to react. The
Orioles are back in the playoffs, and that’s more than I could have ever
dreamed of.
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