Sunday

The last day of Belfry Week dawned with more homemade blueberry waffles (using the Belgian waffle maker Kerry and Meg gave us as a wedding gift six years ago) and lots of baseball chat. We noted that the humidity was back up and the sun was quite intense, so we loaded the fridge with water bottles before sitting down to watch the extremely funny but extremely vile documentary The Aristocrats (if you don't know, it's about the history and telling of a vile/funny free-form joke that comedians have been telling each other since sometime in vaudeville...it's an interesting discovery that Bob Saget, of all people (Full House, America's Funniest Home Videos) is quite the dirty joke teller.)

But finally it was time. We hopped in the RAV4 and zipped down to the park, skirting the traffic backup on 95 by dropping off at Caton Avenue and taking back streets. This got us into our seats literally before first pitch.

The BAD news? We were sitting in the upper deck in left field. It was sort of like being in a rotisserie oven with the aroma of sunscreen replacing the rosemary and thyme. But it wasn't the heat as much as the intensity of the sun. Craig and I wore sandals, so we made sure to keep our toes in the shade of the seatbacks in front of us because it felt like they were frying.

Crowd-wise, it was a bit better today - probably back to about 70% Sox fans. A lot more family-oriented, too. Fewer 'Let's Go Red Sox' chants, a lot fewer dumb remarks or insults about the O's. The heat had something to do with it too, I think.

The game? Despite the O's great defense, basically the Sox handed the game over on a platter. They couldn't get the big hit, but more importantly, there were some really bad decisions made late in the game. Once again a manager was burned by holding the closer until they got a lead...once Snyder came into the game, Kerry just flat-out said, 'The O's are going to win this game, right here." And they did. Now, you can argue the insertion of Gagne either way...he needed to get 'back on the horse' or it was inviting disaster. Both are valid points of view. But bringing in your 11th best pitcher with the game on the line when you still have your best pitcher available just doesn't work for me...nor does letting Millar hit with first base open and Huff on deck, especially when it would set up a double play to get out of the inning!

But Terry made his choices, and the Sox leave with another shocking loss. But we enjoyed it.

The day was full of upsets. Ketchup won the Condiment Race...it was Mustard's turn, so we're glad we didn't bet the ten grand in Vegas.

So another week has passed, a tough one for us. It was really hot, there was the horrible bullpen performances and the tiny crowds in the Seattle series, the Red Sox invasion, the suffering through some of the stupidest 'fan commentary' for the first two games I've ever had to endure, and two fantastic and shocking wins. We did laugh a lot, though, as we sat through a 30-year-old Mamie Van Doren and 35-year-old Mel Torme playing juvenile delinquents in Girl's Town, Joe Don Baker as the stupidest, most slovenly police detective ever in Mitchell, and a 40's tale of parental warning called I Accuse My Parents, as well as the absurdity of The Atomic Brain and the vulgarity of The Aristocrats. We ate some great Baltimore food - pizza from Ledo's, crab cakes from Hella's in Millersville (as well as my getting a chance to sing), Maryland fried chicken from the Red Rooster in Damascus, local fare from Mt. Airy's 'Old Towne Restaurant' (owned and operated by my next-door neighbor), ribs and BBQ from Redneck Ribs in New Market, and, of course, a jumbo lump crabcake from Faidley's. Since we were such a small group of three this year and we've finally revamped our bathroom and created a guest room, everyone stayed at our house, which was really nice from the standpoint of us all spending more time together, which this week is about just as much as the baseball. (Thank goodness!)

By the way, in a first, none of us spent one cent in the ballpark for food or drink. Kerry did have a shopping expedition in the O's store, and Craig bought a media guide. We only paid for parking once, on Saturday when you have to during an afternoon game. We brought water and soda with us and saved our appetites for better and less expensive food.

I treasure Kerry and Craig. They are not only funny and bright baseball people, but just darn good people period. I could never be totally teed off at the Orioles after they enabled me to meet two of my very best friends. It will be nice to get back to my novel, talk to my wife for more than five minutes, etc, but Belfry Week is a highlight of my year. I know how difficult it is for the guys to do this year in and year out, and I know it can end at any time, so I'm doubly grateful for each year in turn, despite the heat and the losing, and, yes, even Red Sox Nation.

As always, we added to the rich lexicon of Belfry Week. None of this will mean a whit to any of you, but hearing any of these phrases will bring a smile to our faces in the years to come...

'Mitchell!'

'Relish sucks!'

'Just guess and SHUT UP!'

'...and then, we wallowed around in it!'

'...skee-doop-a doobie-doo!'

'We're the M----r F--king C---suckers.'

'Galano!'

It's time to bid farewell to the gulls standing around in the outfield, to the morons sitting behind us on Friday and Saturday, to Felix, to Michelle at the Vintage Coffee House, to Miggy's play, both bad and good...to Jay Gibbons' and Jay Payton's horrible weeks, the heat and humidity (though only one rain delay!) and to second-guessing, trivia questions about sweating animals and Cy Young winners...with special thanks to our wives for making it all possible, especially Daryl for putting up with us all week. We love you!

We're sorry we saw no one else this year; we look forward to seeing other Belfry-ites, but this year it didn't seem to work out. Hopefully next time...but don't forget, be it Belfry Week or anything else...nothing is forever. When the opportunities come, seize them. Our time is short, and the things that are really important to us can be some of the smallest things. I am grateful for another Belfry Week. Thanks a ton, Kerry and Craig!

Saturday

We thought we were outnumbered Friday night...were we ever in for a surprise.

Friday night we estimated the crowd at 75% Red Sox fans. Today, it was 90%. There could not have been more than five or six thousand O's fans present. I know it's not going to change because of the team's pursuit of the almighty dollar combined with the team's putrid play, but it certainly doesn't feel right - and it makes for a VERY unpleasant experience for the O's fans who do attend the game. Despite Friday's win, I don't think I'll be back for a weekend Sox series ever until something changes; it's very difficult to enjoy oneself when surrounded by yelling, screaming, clapping and chanting for the Red Sox for three-plus hours. In the 'old days', there would be lots of Sox fans in attendance, but O's fans could shout them down when they started up their 'Let's Go Red Sox' chant...but you can't shout them down when there are 42,000 of them and 6,000 of you.

There are some obvious reasons for the additional Sox fans...the team is playing well, they have been killing the O's overall for the past couple of years, especially at The Yard, and tickets are scarce and expensive at Fenway. But there's something else going on here, too. It's been mentioned that the O's are aggressively marketing New England and New York. If that's true, they ought to be ashamed - or at least give the rest of us our money back.

That being said, the afternoon at the Yard was pretty much what we should have and did expect - a so-so outing from Olson, who looked good when he got his first pitch over the plate...that just wasn't very often. And Beckett was outstanding...as good today as Bedard was last night.

BUT...the Red Sox Nation has a big problem. Not that most of the self-absorbed and brain-dead fans (Sox fans are supposed to be bright, but most of the morons we've been around haven't fit that description) that attended the game today noticed...but we did.

David Ortiz is hurt.

REALLY hurt.

He's not in a mini-slump. It's obvious that the shoulder issue he's got affects his offense. I don't know how long it will take to get it healed, or if it even WILL heal...but until it does, their offense is going to end up in trouble unless Manny starts carrying them - and he hasn't hit like he used to at much of any time this season. With the Yankee addition of Hughes and Chamberlain, and both of them appearing to be the 'real thing', I think it's only a matter of time before the Yanks overtake the Sox unless Big Papi is okay...and right now, he isn't.

It was a hot day, though not humid. We were sitting in the sun; of course, when I bought the tickets month ago, I didn't know the sun was an issue because the game at that time was at 7:05. Anyway, we made the most of it, including our fervent wish that the pitching performance by Paul Shuey end the Noble Experiment and find him out on the scrap heap so the team can look at some more kids. With the shutout ending in the ninth and the O's actually making enough noise beyond that so we could hold up our heads, the game ended up about as well as we could hope for.

What do we expect tomorrow? More of the same. Possibly a bit smaller group of Sox fans; hopefully some of them are going home. But that might be wishful thinking. Regardless, we'll be there, hoping that either Trachsel pitch either VERY well, or VERY lousy, and that Schilling is off his game. We've never had a single-win Belfry Week in 15 years, but this might be it; that's what 2 starts in six by your number five starter can do for you.

Anyway, wish us luck as we venture into the belly of the beast once more!

Friday

Ho hum. Another day, another win.

Surrounded, and I mean surrounded, by Red Sox Nation, the O's really pulled one out for us. I'm still in a bit of shock a full 14 hours after the events...

After an afternoon of Mystery Science Theater 3000, we arrived at the park at 6:30 to find that we were sitting in a section crammed with Red Sox fans, sort of like every other O's fan in the ballpark, as we were outnumbered probably 4 to 1. But, with the exception of the fans behind us, who were not only a bit obnoxious but also stupid (Kerry had to listen to most of the stupid remarks; I couldn't hear most of them), the fans were pretty well-behaved, if loud.

But Bedard shut them up for the most part...Strike One has a way of doing that.

I was shut out of the Condiment race this time, though...I went with Ketchup while Craig went with Relish, whose turn it would be if there was a simple rotation...and Relish won. so if Ketchup wins today, this is obviously a fixed contest.

But enough about that. There was the matter of the eighth.

We were darn sure Bedard rang up Willy Mo, so somehow the ensuing single and the tie game seemed inevitable. But taking Bedard out wasn't. We all shared a bad feeling about Bradford and the pen, and our fears were realized. Walker pitched batting practice, and, as you all know, the O's were down four. With Gagne and Okajima and the rest of that formidable bullpen standing between the O's and a tie/win...but when Corey Patterson was knocked in by Nick the Greek, one of the fellows behind us loudly exclaimed 'that's only one run, you guys. No problem', I thought...'maybe, just maybe we have a chance.'

And we did.

The bedlam wasn't really bedlam at all. It was more of a quiet expression of belonging, of the desire for respect. Sox fans were too much in shock...the guys behind us were speechless, and we were gracious enough to not rub it in. There was one near-altercation we noted on our way out of the park, but that was it.

We savored every moment, though. and it reminded us, however briefly, of how much fun this game can be.

Let's hope for more fun today!

Thursday

Thank goodness for ribs, Mystery Science Theater 3000, and good friends. Oh, the Orioles? They suck, just like Relish.

We had a great day, but then there was the ballgame.

Good seats, thanks to Felix, my usher friend. I know we won't be enjoying the same 'moving around' ability over the weekend, so it was good to take advantage of his generosity once more. Still, like the whole series, the O's were behind before we could settle in, though we all agreed this was not really Cabrera's fault. After all, every one of the 'hits' that led to three runs in the first were simple grounders or bloops. The one fault one could find was that Danny didn't 'take charge and strike someone out'...but isn't the lack of control accompanying said strikeouts supposed to be what he's correcting?

Still, the O's came back and took the lead on Miggy's Grand Slam...but no one felt that comfortable about it. And rightfully so - The M's were just getting warmed up. A gajillion hits and a MASSIVELY critical error by Tejada led to another hard-fought (sort of) defeat. It's true that the team didn't quit offensively, but they haven't been mentally sharp all week, despite Trembley's protestations to the contrary. Guys have thrown to the wrong base, run themselves into outs, made errors...a couple of guys (Jay Payton in particular, but also Huff , Hernandez, and Gibbons) have looked so bad at the plate at various times that you can't help but wonder what they are thinking. Though they have 'battled' in the homestand, it doesn't feel like a positive battle, more like resigned battle.

So unless the O's sweep the Red Sox, it's another losing Belfry Week. We've never had a week with less than 2 wins, but this looks like a real possibility...even a whitewash is certainly not out of the question.

I feel bad about it, but not so much for myself, but for Kerry and Craig...they travel all this way, spend a good amount of money, and the team seems to play like a bunch of cowflops. Every year I grow more concerned that we won't be doing this any more because the baseball is just so disappointing.

Come on, O's. Have a little frigging pride and get up off the floor and win a couple!

Wednesday

Still no food or water, and no rescue in sight. We scan the horizon for hours seeking respite, but none appears at hand.

Oh, that was my dream from last night - the reality is that we arrive at the ballpark to the smallest post-Memorial Day crowd of the season. Why? Well, maybe it's because at game time it's 101 degrees. Or maybe it's because the O's appear on the verge of one of those August Meltdowns (Patent Pending) for which they have become so famous. For whatever reason, only 18K for an announced attendance, maybe 12-14K actually here...and that's with the Naval Academy Squids (new admissions) in attendance.

A real treat for me - as we found some upper deck seats closer to behind the plate, I saw a familiar face...Felix, my old Memorial Stadium Section 41 usher who took care of me the last two seasons there, and whom I have not seen in the 15 years since. It turns out he's been at The Yard all the time, but we've never run into each other. I explained that I had tickets in 332 for 11 years; as it turned out, he'd usually been further down the first base line. Remarkable that we hadn't run into each other in 15 years, but it was great to see him now.

Unfortunately, that was the highlight of the evening...well, that and the crabcake at Hella's afterwards and the 8-9-4-2 play at the plate late in the game. Once you watched Payton, Gibbons and Hernandez ground out a few times, you felt pretty ground out yourself.

Ketchup won the Condiment Race last night, so I backed a winning horse this time.

We're wondering what it takes to have a successful Belfry Week. This is the fifteenth such undertaking...we've had three 'winning records' in all that time. Three. There hasn't been a winning week this decade. And now, they are 0-2, with a lefty and Boston's three best to go, and Steve Trachsel pitching again on Sunday. It's not looking promising, but we'll take them one at a time.

Of course, what makes this not only tolerable despite the heat is our mutual love for this ball team, and the friendships that have developed across the years. We can always be grateful to the O's for that. I wouldn't trade my week with these guys for anything (and yes, you're missed, Meg!)...but a couple of wins don't seem to be too much to ask for. Does it?

Tuesday

Hey, it's hot out here. Whose idea was this August thing, anyway?

We should have known; even though we got a spot on the street only 2 blocks from the park, we missed out on the Guthrie t-shirts because we waited to get to the park as late as possible, and I forgot about the giveaway. Still, assuming they weren't giving out XXL's, both Craig and I would have given our shirts to Kerry anyway.

There were a lot of folks standing in line to buy tickets...considering that the humidity and smog were so bad that the skyline was just a gray outline at game time (not to mention the 95 degree game time temp), it was a bit surprising, but it was a discount ticket night.

Speaking of which, when we got to our seats, we saw we were directly behind a large group of scouts and leaders, about a dozen rows worth. We probably should have moved right then, but we didn't. Perhaps the heat had gotten to us already.

The game begins, and it goes pretty much as expected, Trachsel going to a 3-2 count on seemingly every batter, with Jeff Weaver only marginally better. It was some kind of slow going. But despite allowing two baserunners nearly every inning, the O's were in the game.

I think the game's pace contributed to the enthusiasm shown for the Esskay Condiment Race, though. Sure, it's only an animated hot dog race featuring ketchup, mustard, and relish dogs (does anyone put just relish on a hot dog?), but it only takes a minute, and they do round the bases faster than Aubrey Huff. Anyway, Relish won with a nice hook slide at the end, but everyone wasn't happy...a leather-lunged fans a half-dozen rows behind us yelled out 'Relish Sucks!'. I commented that I didn't know Pete Rose was at the game, but at least he obviously only bet on his condiment to win...and we had our catchphrase for 2007. Relish Sucks. Yes, it's not quite 'Ice Cold Lemon Chill', or 'Gomer's at the Fillin' Station, He'll Call You Back Later'...but it's all OURS, it belongs to us. Besides, Leather-Lung turned out to have a great night all around. He yelled at Walker, Raul Ibanez, Jose Guillen, all with equal enthusiasm and with just the right touch of surrealism.

Bad news; if you haven't been to a game lately, the hotel going up across the street has really closed in a lot of the view from the first base side. Only the top of the Bromo Tower shows, and from where we were sitting, there was no skyline at all, only a hotel that runs directly into the view of the warehouse. Oh, well, it was a nice view for 13 years.

You know how it turned out, of course...Jamie walker had nothing, and the bullpen went up in flames. Meanwhile, we quipped, laughed, groaned, stewed on out own sweat watching one pitching change after another, and wondered at how the O's could be so shitty year after year during Belfry Week (getting Steve Trachsel twice isn't exactly what we had in mind coming in)...and we loved every sweltering minute.

We'll be back tonight, hopeful of the first Belfry Win of 2007. Root along with us!