When it comes to being a sports fan, I have ridden the roller coaster of emotions. I have been privileged to experience the ultimate highs and humbled to have experienced the extreme lows. Recently, I’ve been forced to take inventory of my sports emotions, so to speak.
As most of you already know, I was born and raised in Baltimore in the early 80s. My first sports love was the Baltimore Orioles. When I was a little over 1-year-old, my O’s won the World Series. That was the last time my beloved franchise was blessed with a title. Of course, I don’t remember the sweet taste of victory, but I did experience it. My mom-mom packed up my little self, hopped on a bus and took me downtown for the victory parade. I have a photo of me in my little stroller, waving my World Series pennant with the parade passing in the background. What I wouldn’t give to recreate that moment. Let’s just hope I don’t have to wait until that stroller turns into a wheelchair!
Let’s not forget that until I was a sophomore in college, I had never seen a baseball game that didn’t have Cal Ripken, Jr. playing in it. I wouldn’t say that the Orioles spoiled me, though. We were good during my formative sports fan years, but all good things must come to an end. Personally, I don’t think we’ll ever win until someone finally exacts revenge on that Jeffrey Maier kid. Hate him. While I have come to expect disappointment from the Orioles, I’m having a harder time coming to terms with my other teams.