Give me an "O" for Optimism

Exploring what makes Baltimore a great baseball town, and the O's a "loveable loser."

By Matthew Taylor

Those who know me best would hesitate to call me an optimist, especially when it comes to sports. I've gotten better over the years, but watching an O's game with me can still be a torturous affair.

A leadoff walk is more than a reason for worry; it's the reason that the Orioles have been terrible for so long and the reason they'll never be good again. If that leadoff walk happens to occur during a Yankee game things get worse by bibilical proportions. It means that God hates me. That he's testing me. Like I'm some kind of modern day Job with nosebleed seats and the box scores. Inevitably I fail His test and declare, "To Hell with it, I refuse to love my pinstriped neighbor as myself!"

Is there a Geneva Convention relative to the treatment of baseball fans?

Despite an occasional gloomy nature, my being an O's fan does reflect some inherent level of optimism. Or at least blind loyalty masquerading as optimism. Why, after all, do we cheer for the Birds? It's clear they're not going to the playoffs this year, just as they haven't every stinking year since 1997. They may not even have a winning record for a ninth straight season. That's almost a decade of futility!

Aaron Koos has identified the .500 mark as a worthy goal for this season, which alone should've driven his ultra-scientific CAP average to at least Ted Williams territory. And I'll admit, I too get excited about the prospect of finally finishing the season at sea level. At least it would suggest that our ship hasn't yet sunk. Do they make T-shirts for this sort of thing? Can you merchandize mediocrity?

The point is that deep down in our feathered souls we must have some belief that things will get better, that they must get better. So on a grand relative level, we're all optimists, even if our behavior in front of the television, next to the radio, or in the stands at Camden doesn't suggest as much. Baltimore fans may be underdogs, but there's something to be said for our ability to endure the stormy weather. We're approaching a 10-year rain delay in the standings, yet we still check the forecast and pack the sun tan lotion. Creedence Clearwater Revival may as well have been describing the condition of being an Orioles fan when they wondered, still they wondered, "Who'll Stop the Rain?"

Having established that we, as O's fans, must deep down be optimists, it's time to consider other options for our fanbase that extend beyond overall record, games behind, and winning streaks. So I pose this question: "What would it take for the Orioles to become a lovable loser?"

As long as we're mired in mediocrity we may as well consider the factors that could make the O's the Cubs of the American League and allow us the same treatment as Chicago's National League fans who, when sporting their home team's cap, are so often greeted with the words, "Go Cubbies!"

The Red Sox broke their curse, and now they're just another rich franchise seeking to dominate this free agent era of disparity. So there's a vacancy in the AL for a lovable loser. It's time to log on to our own sports version of Match.com and wink at baseball fans leaguewide. We'll identify our own curse, examine Baltimore's quirky traditions, and figure out just what it is beyond on-field performance that makes it great to be an O's fan.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I'll examine these factors and more in greater depth. Consider this my baseball thesis. Working title: "The Lovable Loser: Why It's Great to Be an Orioles Fan."

I'm not beating up on the Birds. Quite the opposite. I want to make the case that among baseball towns Baltimore is more Chicago than Milwaukee, more peanuts and Cracker Jacks than Microbrews and $7 Buds.

So join me on this journey, and add your insight along the way. Or you can just put up your umbrella and stubbornly keep singing our unofficial theme song . . .

"Long as I remember the rain been comin down. Clouds of mystry pourin confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages, tryin to find the sun; And I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain?"

They'd Be Lovable Losers If They Weren't Winning So Much

by Matthew Taylor

The inspired efforts this season of our beloved Birds are taking place away from the national spotlight. ESPN's Jerry Crasnik does give a halfway-point nod to the O's bullpen, which he places on his list of "the biggest overachievers of '08."

After spending $42 million on free-agent relievers prior to the 2007 season and failing to get the desired results, the Orioles hit upon a more cost-efficient plan for '08: Make a couple of astute trades, resurrect a formerly promising arm in the system and watch the entire production take off.

If you're looking for an explanation for Baltimore's surprising start, the bullpen is a pretty good place to focus. Orioles relievers are 15-13 with a 3.28 ERA, compared to 24-35 and 5.71 last season. After going 13-31 in one-run games a year ago, the O's are 17-12 this season.

Closer George Sherrill, acquired from Seattle in the Erik Bedard deal, can be an adventure at times. But he has converted 27 of 32 save chances through a combination of good stuff, better deception and even better intestinal fortitude. Sherrill has become a fan favorite in Baltimore, which could complicate matters if general manager Andy MacPhail decides to dangle him at the trade deadline.

MacPhail acquired two power arms from Houston in the Miguel Tejada deal. Dennis Sarfate is averaging more than a strikeout an inning, and Matt Albers also pitched effectively before going down with a torn labrum in his right shoulder last week.

The big revelation has been Jim Johnson, a former fifth-round draft pick who never quite cut it as a starter. Johnson lengthened his stride in the minors with the help of pitching coordinator Dave Schmidt -- and presto -- his power sinker is suddenly unhittable. He has allowed 26 hits and posted a 1.17 ERA in 46 1/3 innings.

Crasnik's correct that the bullpen has been central to the team's resurgence; it is indeed a big part of the tale. However, as any Birds loyalist knows, there's more to this story, which is ultimately about the re-birth of a love affair between a city and its long downtrodden team.

I've shared multiple discussions with my friend and former Roar from 34 regular Chris Heun about the concept of the "lovable loser" and how a team comes to earn that description. I'd say that the 2008 Birds possess many of the necessary elements except, of course, for the losing.

Consider Tuesday's victory over the Royals and the reception given by the fans to closer George Sherrill in an outing that followed two consecutive blown saves.

Sherrill, who had blown saves the two previous days by giving up home runs on two-strike hanging sliders, got a standing ovation as he ran out of the bullpen, a gesture the first-year closer said "meant a lot."

Remember the sad case of Terry Mathews and the reception he received from fans during the ALDS? The team's fan base may be smaller now than it was in the late '90s, but the remaining loyalists appreciate the fighting spirit of this '08 squad.

And what of Dave Trembley, the career minor league manager who's leading the unforeseen resurgence? To hate this guy is to hate cold lemonade on a scorching summer afternoon.

The closer also appreciated the support of Trembley, who wore a T-shirt with Sherrill's name and number under his jersey. After the game, Trembley presented Sherrill with a sign that was given to him by a fan during batting practice. It read, "Never a doubt, Georgie," the team's slogan after Sherrill's memorably nerve-racking saves.

The manager wearing a player's replica T-shirt? Is it possible to be schmaltzy and sincere at the same time? Fan signs making their way to the team's closer? Is this really the same Major League Baseball that has so disillusioned even the truest of fans in recent years?

Meanwhile, Roch Kubatko relays this humanizing gem from Sherrill, who reflected on his Monday night meltdown, highlighted by a hurled bucket of gum, in humorous terms.

Sherrill said he was trying to hit the dugout fence, not drive the bucket through the gap. “Bad location,” Sherrill said. “I missed my spot again.”

The whole incident is made better by the fact that Luke Scott helped the Orioles' bat boy pick up the gum that Sherrill had scattered in the grass. That's the same humble Luke Scott who offers waves and tips of the cap to fans at Camden Yards who cheer his name.

It's nice to get some national attention, but it's the local guys who are getting it right: "For a change, it's fun to be a fan."