Memorabilia and memorable moments

The absence of games during the sports shutdown has made it necessary for me to tap into my many years on the Orioles beat and my memories as a kid rooting for the team to keep the blog humming.

There are only so many roster decisions and stalled competitions to dissect. Only so much speculation about the 2020 season to rekindle and douse.

Let's find out a little more about you. With a heavy dose of me, of course.

What is your most random or bizarre piece of sports memorabilia?
I own a hockey stick that belonged to the Baltimore Clippers' Willie Marshall, who was inducted into the American Hockey League's Hall of Fame in 2006.

Marshall played for the Clippers from 1966-71 during a 20-year career. He retired as the league's all-time leader in games played (1,205), goals (523), assists (852), points (1,375) and hat tricks (25).

Seeing the thin wooden stick is like watching an old tennis match and wondering how players could return shots with racquets that resembled wooden spoons. The sweet spot was the size of a quarter.

I also own a stick signed by many of the Clippers and a framed team photo, which I used to hang in my office and feel like Oscar Madison in "The Odd Couple." Remember the photos in his hallway?

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that my father's best friend had a neighbor who was the Clippers' trainer and that's how I got the memorabilia. A cool connection.

If I had to choose a baseball item, I might go with a pair of Kevin Millar's autographed game-used spikes from his days with the Orioles. It edges out my bottle of Minnesota Vikings cologne, which came in a square bottle with the helmet logo in the front and a Super Bowl trophy for a cap.

The closest that the Vikings got to the trophy.

The cologne was given to me as a gift when I was a kid, so I'm assuming that it doesn't smell the same.

The limited edition box of Albert Belle's Slugger Cereal, which oddly is signed twice, also is a keeper. But it's empty now. I finally tossed the contents while moving into my new house. Emily might have used the word "gross," or maybe it was "disgusting," while convincing me.

I assume she was talking about the cereal.

What is your favorite Orioles moment, whether in person or on a broadcast?
The easy answers are Cal Ripken Jr. breaking Lou Gehrig's record for consecutive games played or World Series wins in 1966, 1970 and 1983.

Maybe it was Ripken's final game on Oct. 6, 2001. The downer was Brady Anderson chasing a high fastball from Red Sox reliever Ugueth Urbina with the count full, two outs and Ripken on deck.

Maybe it was the division-clinching game on Sept. 16, 2014 and the on-field celebration that unfolded. The team sharing it with fans instead of staying inside a champagne- and beer-soaked clubhouse.

Maybe it's Robert Andino's walk-off single in the final game of the 2011 season that kept the Red Sox out of the playoffs. The Orioles celebrated as if they had won the pennant. Maybe it's "Delmon's double," as it will forever be known. Or maybe it's how the Orioles rallied from a nine-run deficit in 2009 to beat the Red Sox 11-10 for the biggest comeback in club history.

I left the ballpark after filing my pregame notebook, headed to Liberatore's restaurant in Eldersburg and watched the game at the bar, a rookie mistake committed by a veteran scribe.

My favorite Orioles moment played out on my radio.

"Orioles Magic" was born on June 22, 1979 at Memorial Stadium. I was listening to the game in the house where I grew up, sprawled out on the living room floor as the Orioles trailed the Tigers 5-3 in the ninth inning.

People tend to forget that Ken Singleton hit a solo home run with one out. Or that Eddie Murray followed with a single.

What they remember is how Doug DeCinces came to the plate with two outs and drove a 1-1 pitch from Dave Tobik into the left field seats.

I can't remember what I ate for dinner three nights ago, but I'll never forget Dave Tobik.

Bill O'Donnell was handling play-by-play duties on WFBR-AM in the ninth inning. Chuck Thompson and Charley Eckman also were in the booth and the reaction to the home run made it an instant classic.

Eckman yelled, "This might get out of here, get out of here," as O'Donnell tracked the flight of the ball. Chuck Thompson shouted, "Gone," followed by O'Donnell yelling, "Home run, home run, home run."

"The Orioles have won the ballgame in 1979 style," O'Donnell said as my arms were covered with goosebumps. "Do you believe it?"

The way that O'Donnell said "19 ... 79 ... style" was absolutely perfect. No way to rehearse it.

"They're going crazy!" Eckman yelled.

How did I know that every Oriole was at the plate? Because that's how O'Donnell described it - saying it twice, as I recall.

I truly believe that the moment brought more excitement to me because of the radio call. You didn't get every game on television. I'm glad that I've lived through both periods in broadcasting.

I also remember Eckman shouting, "This ballclub does everything it has to do," and it truly did.

Murray delivered a walk-off homer the next day in Game 1 of a doubleheader and Terry Crowley won Game 2 with a go-ahead pinch-hit single. Pat Kelly hit a grand slam later in the summer for another improbable win.

That's how the season played out. One dramatic comeback after another. All the way until the World Series.

I taped the postgame show on June 22 without the express written consent of Major League Baseball, and still have the cassette in a box at my house.