A Real Sports Hero
I'm long past the point of idolizing sports celebrities with over-sized egos and paychecks to match. I stopped paying attention to professional sports about the time the power and greed took the 'sport' out of sports and turned it into strictly a business. Owners of sport franchises today are lawyers and businessmen who have made their fortune in other fields and buy sport teams because they have an abundance of money and ego, and not necessarily the skill to run a sports franchise. They in turn hire professional athletes who for the most part are high paid mercenaries with no allegiance to any city and no attachment to the fan. But that's not the way it always was.
Friday nights in Baltimore were a magical time for me, especially if the Oriole's were in town. This shy nine year old boy would walk up to the bus stop, and wait on the number three bus that would take him the seven miles across town to Memorial Stadium, home of the Baltimore Orioles The trip was a long one for a kid anxious to get to the games. As the bus traveled across town the excitement would build as you slowly worked your way up Charles Street and hit a fever pitch when the bus made it's wide turn onto 33rd Street. By this time, you would see people walking to the game with their Oriole Jacket and hats on. At times, I would get so excited that I'd get off the bus and walk the rest of the way with the crowd. And on many Friday nights, I would sit out there in the bleachers watching a twi-night doubleheader. Talk about nirvana.
I also played baseball during those years. I grew up in the Southwestern part of town and played ball at Gwynns Falls Park. It was a big deal then. Just about all the kids in the neighborhood played, and it was something we all loved doing. Every year at the beginning of league play, we would have a parade in which all of us kids would march a mile or two along the streets down to the park where we played ball. In the parade there was usually a 'Grand Marshall' usually a Baltimore Oriole player that would ride in the car waving to the people and hanging out at the park afterwards. For three of those years, it was the same Baltimore Oriole. He would ride in the parade, hang out at the park during the games, eat hot dogs with the common folk, and later in the evening sign autographs at one of the local furniture stores for a couple of hours. And what I remember of this Oriole was that he was always smiling and seemed happy to be there. What a treat for all of us kids.
Years later a family friend told of a story of being over at the Goodwill on York Rd. looking around for some clothes, when she glanced over at someone stacking books on shelves. She thought "he looks so familiar" then after a few seconds she realized it was the same Baltimore Oriole player that was so gracious at the parades. She walked over and asked for his autograph and he obliged with a smile. Can you imagine any player today doing something like that today? Stacking books at a Goodwill on his time, not because he's doing civic duty to stay out of jail.
For those wondering who this player was, I will just say that he was one of the greatest third baseman to ever play the game. A man who gave all of us Baltimore sports fans years of memories, on and off the field. Thanks Brooks for the memories!
Friday nights in Baltimore were a magical time for me, especially if the Oriole's were in town. This shy nine year old boy would walk up to the bus stop, and wait on the number three bus that would take him the seven miles across town to Memorial Stadium, home of the Baltimore Orioles The trip was a long one for a kid anxious to get to the games. As the bus traveled across town the excitement would build as you slowly worked your way up Charles Street and hit a fever pitch when the bus made it's wide turn onto 33rd Street. By this time, you would see people walking to the game with their Oriole Jacket and hats on. At times, I would get so excited that I'd get off the bus and walk the rest of the way with the crowd. And on many Friday nights, I would sit out there in the bleachers watching a twi-night doubleheader. Talk about nirvana.
I also played baseball during those years. I grew up in the Southwestern part of town and played ball at Gwynns Falls Park. It was a big deal then. Just about all the kids in the neighborhood played, and it was something we all loved doing. Every year at the beginning of league play, we would have a parade in which all of us kids would march a mile or two along the streets down to the park where we played ball. In the parade there was usually a 'Grand Marshall' usually a Baltimore Oriole player that would ride in the car waving to the people and hanging out at the park afterwards. For three of those years, it was the same Baltimore Oriole. He would ride in the parade, hang out at the park during the games, eat hot dogs with the common folk, and later in the evening sign autographs at one of the local furniture stores for a couple of hours. And what I remember of this Oriole was that he was always smiling and seemed happy to be there. What a treat for all of us kids.
Years later a family friend told of a story of being over at the Goodwill on York Rd. looking around for some clothes, when she glanced over at someone stacking books on shelves. She thought "he looks so familiar" then after a few seconds she realized it was the same Baltimore Oriole player that was so gracious at the parades. She walked over and asked for his autograph and he obliged with a smile. Can you imagine any player today doing something like that today? Stacking books at a Goodwill on his time, not because he's doing civic duty to stay out of jail.
For those wondering who this player was, I will just say that he was one of the greatest third baseman to ever play the game. A man who gave all of us Baltimore sports fans years of memories, on and off the field. Thanks Brooks for the memories!
posted by Bill Thomas at 4:52 PM
0 comments
