So, if a wild card team wins this play-in game bullshit, do they pop champagne in the locker room?
Great baseball games make me work harder, so I’m kind of indifferent now, however… there was a moment in the bottom of the eight where I felt a teensy weensy bit like a kid again.
Now, back to the doug hole.
Oh my god, what if it rains on Cal Ripken Statue day? It rained buckets on Eddie Murphy statue day, and everybody just camped out in our bar and didn’t drink, because they all thought they’d be leaving. Instead the gae got delayed for four hours. It was a nightmare. And that was against the Royals or Mariners or one of those teams. I will lose my mind if I’m locked in with Orioles and Yankees fans for four hours. It’ll look like one of those old west saloons after someone calls John Wayne “yelluh.”
My name is Doug. I’m the Cassandra of the Baltimore bar scene.
Yo, 12,000 fans?
I know! I know. It’s fucking August. Dog days. Last chance to check out that Ocean City townhouse. Last time to get some crabs over by the eastern shore. Kids are back at school. I know.
But dudes and dudettes, this is the closest we’ve gotten to the playoffs in about, what’s 2012-1997? Figure that shit out. Either way, things are fucking exciting down by the yard. I know, I know. We’ve taken advantage of a shitty eyar in the American League east. Usually, our patchwork pitching staff would’ve been blown out the water. Our defense is suspect. At the best, at the best, we might be able to squeeze into the playoffs.
But we might squeeze into the playoffs! And you know what, we might win that one game playoff. Hell, we might go on a tear and win the goddamn east! Who knows? September is full of drama! The last two years, the Orioles have gone on a goddamn tear in September. It migh happen again, in spite of the motherfucking shit poor attendance.
Oh listen, they practically give tickets away. Did you know that? Of course you know that. i see every college student in the world on Fridays. They might even give you a groupon. Hell they’re doing it for the motherfucking grand prix, you might be able to arrange a two for one deal.
We’ve been winning! We’ve been winning awesomely. Some of the games thisyear, hell, some of the games this last month, have been fucking outstanding. Why wouldn’t you want to see that live? Does Ray Lewis have to take over at the hot corner? John Waters have to relieve? I’ve watched 25 years of Orioles baseball, and this is one of the most exciting I’ve ever seen, and still you people are wishy washy. Fuck you, fairweather shit town.
Let me take you back to 88. The Orioles lost 21 games in a row, a record unmatched by college teams. Do you know what the attendance was for that 22nd game? 50,000. People were jacked, and willing to give their all to cheer on the worst team in BASEBALL HISTORY. Yes, it was the 80’s, and bang bus was just a glimmer in the eye of the grossest pervert, but shit man. Smaller cities sell out their stadiums in worse conditions.
I’m indifferent towards baseball now, and am only giving a shit because I make a substantial amount of income when we sell that place out. Fuck you, it’s still a matter of civic pride. I’m tired of out of towners wondering why we can’t fill that park. I’m tired of Mark Reynolds being able to concentrate because it sounds like a corn field near Salisbury within THE GREATEST STADIUM IN THE COUNTRY. I’m tired of you fairweather assholes coming out on Friday, getting wasted, and then not even going to the game.
This is still a baseball town. Act like it. Don’t wear that gear out and watch that game on MASN. Go to the fucking game. We’ve got a series of brutal stretches in the next couple weeks, and all of your support will count.
If you don’t, I’m going to continue calling you the Baltimore Marlins.
The Orioles have never had a perfect game, which is something I discovered after giving the thumbs up to Lady Kate’s recent victory. And like an asshole, I sent her a congratulatory tumblr message acting like she’d entered a club that I’d been in for a while. I demand this to be rectified, especially on a Friday night where I will make a lot of money. This is how I imagine the scene playing out.
Mother: (On phone) Are you watching this game?
Doug: Yeah, it’s pretty great.
(twenty minutes later)
Mother: Wow, it really looks like…
Doug: I know. I know.
(thirty minutes later)
Mother: Wow, this could be
Doug: GOD DAMN IT STOP CALLING ME. THERE’S A PERFECT GAME GOING ON.
Doug: I’d like to apologize
Mother: We need to talk about this.
Doug:(crumples up paper) Something crazy’s happening at the bar, I’ll call you back later.
*Doesn’t call her back that night. Gets shitfaced.