Silent Auction Recap!

This weekend’s Silent Auction for the Race for the Cure was a big success! I asked my girl “What do they do with the stuff that doesn’t sell?” and she said “Everything sold!” All right! My Davey G and the Keyboard Gift Package was one of the first things to go, along with a whole slew of great stuff, including tool sets, learning packages for kids, gift certificates for restaurants--literally, there was not one item left standing as the event helped to raise many, many dollars to help the fight against breast cancer.

I’d like to thank everyone who came out to help, it was an unbelievable success and I was proud to be part of it.

Let me tell you about the day--after helping to load all the gift packages from ISG Headquarters to the Waterfront Hotel, I went around putting up signs with arrows, pointing people to the event. On the way, I talked to some Lyndon Larouche guy who was out stumping for his cause. While I admit to my ignorance of Lyndon Larouche (the extent of my knowledge comes from a Simpsons episode where Homer is kidnapped by aliens and says “Lyndon Larouche was right!”) he was a nice guy who for the most part said things I agreed with (e.g., “nice day today, isn’t it?”).

About an hour after all the signs were up, I went out and saw that the one on the corner of Thames and Broadway had been taken down and (gasp!) thrown in the trash! I was shocked…well, not really. That particular place I had put it is known for being a bad spot for that sort of thing (no punk rock flyer ever stays up there for long.) But this led to a tactic that may have done more good than the sign: we went around with signs and drew people in! I held up the once-discarded sign with the arrow and said “Silent Auction at the Waterfront Hotel!” The foot traffic that came from taking it to the streets was tremendous.

And now I must offer a humble, heartfelt admission. While I am on record, both in song (“Giuliani Time”) and in the blog and in person of being a huge Yankees and Yankees fan hater, I have got to offer them my thanks. I believe that their presence in town boosted the success of this event. With all of them walking around, with nothing but time on their hands and money to spend, they truly were an asset to the Silent Auction. Big thanks to the one fan who was drawn in by my arrow, then spent the whole afternoon at the auction!

So soak up my temporary love, Yankees fans, because next week I am sooooo rooting against you!

But seriously, thanks to all of you.

www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Wild Bill Hagy, a late tribute

Last week I was at work, looking at the paper when I saw this article about the death of “Wild Bill” Hagy, the biggest Baltimore Oriole fan ever, I couldn’t help but smile. Not because he was dead, of course, but because when I read this tribute to a man who obviously cared very much about his team and reflects many of the values I have as a sports fan, I saw something that truly, truly touched my heart. Here was someone who cared, who threw his entire being into supporting his team. I have bitched about the things that bother me as a fan of the Baltimore Orioles (the politics, the way we are treated as fans, etc.) and then I see someone like this, who was exactly the type of fan the team needed, and it makes me a little sad that I was not a part of this time in the Orioles history.
He went to every game, drank beer, led cheers, and most importantly (to me)--he got mad. When Memorial Stadium banned people from bringing in their own coolers and beer, he started a boycott, and he stuck by it. And that was what struck me--he did not simply accept it: he fought back. The lesson I learn from this, is that even if the protest means little to the people you are trying to affect, do it anyway. I wrote about it earlier, how I do not like being among “the Best-Behaved Fans in Baseball,” and from what I can tell, he wouldn’t have liked it either.
The one story I like: He drove a cab, and if an out-of-town fan entered wearing a Yankees hat, he ordered it removed. If the person refused, he refused the fare. (from the obit.) When now, we bend over backwards not to offend the “New York” fans (from Fells Point or from the suburbs) it makes me want to throw up.
Therefore, my personal tribute to a man I have never met: I will play Giuliani Time at my next show.

“Orioles Fans Have a Reputation for Being the Best behaved Fans in Baseball. We Trust you will uphold that reputation.” or…Giuliani Time Part 3

I am a Baltimore Orioles fan. Every game I attend at Camden Yards, this message is shown on the JumboTron: “Orioles Fans Have a Reputation for Being the Best behaved Fans in Baseball. We Trust you will uphold that reputation.”

And it has never really set well with me to be considered “well behaved.”

Football fans are not well-behaved. They are drunk, loud, obnoxious, most definitely not well-behaved. They never, ever, flash a message like this over at M&T Bank Stadium (btw, for all future writings I will call it Raven’s Stadium, as I hate hate hate corporations that name stadiums) during Raven’s games.

But this post is not meant to criticize the fans. This is a post about the management.

Just this message, shown during every game, like Communist propaganda, is an insult to me as an American. (I know, hyperbole, but bear with me.) Management, like the old Soviet state, has a great interest in keeping the fans docile, and passive and apathetic. It helps to distract us from the fact that the team has not put together a winner in 10 years. It helps to avoid nasty little incidents like the big walkout of last year, during which a thousand fans dressed in black walked out of the stadium at 5:08--“5” for Brooks Robinson and “8” for Cal Ripken.
I witnessed a refreshing sign of fan anger when I saw the O’s play a few weeks ago, right before Sam Perlozzo was fired, when upset fans stood up and booed, MERCILESSLY. They booed bad fielding. They booed poor hitting. They booed Sam Perlozzo coming out of the dugout to yank the starter. They booed, swore, and got mad. They were not acting like “the best behaved fans in baseball.” They were acting like human beings, pushed too far, made to suffer too long, like the little kid who is sick of the bully beating him up and taking his lunch money--they fought back.

Oppressive Governments, and Oriole Management, like it when people do not question their actions. They like it when people trust their leaders. They like when people sit at home and watch TV and just accept their lot in life. At the Yard, they like it when you sit, cheer when they tell you, and otherwise keep your mouth shut: Behave.
For a game that drapes itself in the flag and patriotism and the National Anthem and God Bless America, it really doesn’t seem very American to me.

www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Giuliani Time, Revisited

As fans know, two years go I wrote a song called “Giuliani Time.” Specifically, this song was about how I tried to go to a baseball game with a “New York Sucks” T-shirt and they wouldn’t let me in, but more generally about how as a Baltimore Orioles Baseball fan, we are consistently pooped upon (note: trying to swear less in the blog) by the ownership and management of Camden Yards.
It is now two days into the new baseball season, the Orioles have lost two in a row, but part of me is already not caring. Opening Day is one of the most revered day in sports. No matter how awful your team is (and mine’s been pretty awful for the last 9 years) there is always this magical event all throughout the baseball world where all the sins of the last years are washed away, at least for a while. It dissipates, of course, but for one brief day the world is right, my team is at .500 (0-0) and I feel good about being a fan, either attending the game, or watching it on TV.

So imagine my disappointment and disgust with the management of the Peter Angelos-run Mid Atlantic Sports Network when I discovered that Opening Day would NOT be broadcast on free TV, as it should be. Please, please give a moment to think about how utterly silly this is: Opening Day! It would be as if they put the Super Bowl on cable (which I imagine is not far off, actually). The only way I could watch my team lose to Minnesota (7-4) would be to either have cable, or go somewhere with cable. And to be honest, I don’t have the money to drink at a sports bar any time I want to watch a ballgame (loyal readers will note that I have already declared myself to be a proud cheapskate) and I sure as heck (“heck?”) don’t want to spend the money on cable just to watch baseball. So for the first day in many, many years, I missed Opening Day.

And finally, there is no relief: the TV schedule has painfully few free games I can watch. There are games on Sunday, and the occasional Saturday, but for the most part, I will be stuck listening on the radio as baseball goes the way of professional boxing (as in, the only way to follow it is to pay through the nose for special “pay-per-view” fights) That is, of course, if I still care enough to be following the O’s.

(all right, who am I kidding? I’ll still be a fan, because I love Baltimore and by now I’m used to the abuse.)

I came out to support my team but my team won't support me.

Roberto Clemente (stuff I'm Reading)

Stuff I’m Reading.

Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball’s Last Hero by David Maraniss


The book makes the case for why Roberto Clemente,who played 18 seasons in right field for the Pittsburgh Pirates,
is to Latin Americans what Jackie Robinson is to African Americans. It makes the case that he was not only a great baseball player, but a genuinely great human being. It is definitely written from a hero-worship perspective, but by the time you have gotten through it, you realize it is totally justified.
Just the descriptions of the ‘60 and ‘71 World Series make this a must-read for all baseball fans. And, no shit, I was almost in tears by the end (but, you know, I didn't cry because I'm a man {sort of} so I can’t cry. Instead I went out and chopped some wood and changed my oil like 50 times), after the telling of the plane crash that killed him in his effort to help earthquake victims in Nicaragua.

One thing I thought was interesting: the Author’s juxtaposition of Clemente and Howard Hughes. Hughes, who in his later nutball years, was holed up in Nicaragua, isolated from the world and then being hustled out of the country by his entourage. Hughes, with quite literally limitless resources and the great ability to help the people of Nicaragua, fled the country, while Clemente died trying to help them. Yeah, I know Hughes was crazy, but which one do you think is burning in hell?

With Spring Training getting going, this book made me excited as hell for the season to start, even if my team is the perennially sucky Baltimore Orioles.





www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

October for all of us...

October tends to be a month that I become really, really, uselessly absorbed by the baseball playoffs, despite the fact that my team has once again fared poorly and is not involved in the post-season. I am at least a little upset that some of my favorite Orioles have been accused of taking performance enhancing drugs. If it turns out to be true, I am lopping the head off my Brian Roberts bobblehead and mailing it to him, care of the Orioles, because he is my favorite player and that news would almost absolutely destroy my interest in this crap ass team.
Other things…
*If you are eating at the Golden West Café (1105 W. 36th St., Baltimore, 21211-2507)
anytime soon, check out the little waiting area for the new Davezine, which I left there this morning. They are good people there who serve a mean weekend brunch.
*I just got a 5-inch screen TV from the thrift store that works off of the cigarette lighter in my car. It makes me stupidly happy.
*The City Paper is having their annual short story contest. It is really hard for me to do anything under 2500 words these days, but I am going to try anyway.

Conflicts

I had mixed feelings watching the O’s game on TV last night--they were playing the Angels, the team I put money on to win the World Series this year, who were 7 games back of Oakland--a win would have brought them up a game, as Oakland had lost earlier. While it feels sick to root against my hometown team (okay, adopted hometown) they are totally out of the race, so really, a win does nothing for them. But the Angels still have a shot, and I still have live bet on them. But their chances have gotten more and more slim because for every game they win, it seems like Oakland wins 2. So I have a real interest in seeing them make up some ground and get into the playoffs, but of course, that puts me at odds with my team. So while I didn’t cheer for the Angels, I wasn’t too upset when they won by a final score of 1-0.
I have a new, modest bet on the Bengals to win the AFC. The Bengals are, of course, in the same division as the Ravens. I see another conflict of interest on the way.

a day at the races

I was at the track yesterday, down about 15 bucks and making my last bet of the day--a 5 dollar win bet on a 5-1 shot that I thought looked pretty good, much better at those odds than what I thought was an overrated favorite who went off at something like 3-2. A win would have netted me 30 bucks and saved my day. Earlier I had hit the daily double for 7 bucks (2 favorites) and then I lost 3 in a row.
I made my bet, then went out to watch the post parade. My horse (the 9) rode by, the jockey was talking to Anna Napravnik, the 18 year old girl jockey (who has been totally kicking ass at Laurel), saying that since she hadn’t sent him a message in a week, he had knocked her down a few notches on his Myspace page.
The race was a 5 furlong turf race, and it unfolded with my horse charging to the front and holding the lead, then in the last half furlong Napravnik streaked past on a horse called Red Malone, completely fucking up the bet and setting me down 20 for the day. Guess that was her revenge for being downgraded on Myspace.
I went home and looked her up, but she hasn’t friended me yet.
www.daveygandthekeyboard.com