As the Orioles Hang On, Fans Hang On to Satisfying Season

So far this week in Baltimore Orioles history has been reminiscent of the farcical 1940s baseball movie “It Happens Every Spring.” In that elementary script, a Midwestern chemistry teacher discovers a compound that repels wood and by rubbing it on baseballs becomes a sensational big-league pitcher -- until the substance runs out just as the season is ending. But the pitcher, Ray Milland, makes it through -- that’s Hollywood. This is Baltimore, and the Orioles, sensational all season themselves, look out of magic too, with 14 games remaining.

Here Frank Robinson has spent most of the week looking for an elixir of his own to keep the club going. While he needs a good man or two to step forward and carry his team, he’s had two veterans this week -- Keith Moreland and Dave Schmidt -- declare they’re of no use to the Orioles. Robinson may have been trying to rouse the team (to no avail) himself Wednesday night when he was ejected during an argument over the condition of the field after a rain delay.

But Baltimore fans aren’t complaining about this week’s doldrums. Despite the Orioles’ two defeats by last-place Chicago on nights that first-place Toronto was losing in Minnesota, they seem thoroughly satisfied with the team’s improbable season. A year ago first place for 98 days in ’89 would have sounded as far-fetched as a chemistry teacher pitching in the majors.

Yet the Orioles did it by turning to youth, then juggling -- the starting pitchers, the bullpen, the batting order. By calling up Rochester Red Wings, by discovering a pitcher who lives nearby in a mobile home. By surviving in darkest times, like winning a 2-1 game after losing two straight games by a combined score of 21-1. By staving off Toronto with a four-game series split in August. Until finally slipping to second but not out of it yet. “Whether or not they catch Toronto, they’ve done better than anyone expected,” said Jean Sampson, a fan. “Nobody has anything to complain about.”

True fans at Memorial Stadium would like to see the Orioles still have a chance for first when they take on the Blue Jays in Toronto the last three games of the season. True, they’ve been scoreboard-watching, reacting with cheers to the Blue Jays’ setbacks (three to Minnesota this week). True they’re leery of the Kansas City series, beginning Friday night. But no they’re in no way unhappy with their Orioles.

If anything they’re basking in the twilight of a surprising season.

“If we win the division we’ll have fun at the playoffs and maybe the World Series,” said Dalroy Ward, an Orioles fan. “If we don’t win, we’ll look forward to next year.”

That’s been the mood this week at Memorial Stadium. It’s mellow.

Monday night here contrasted with Monday night football at RFK. No tension. No full house. A soothing breeze blew in from the open outfield end of the stadium and 21,000 watched the Orioles handle Chicago easily, 6-3. It was very laid-back.

And the mood after Tuesday night’s 11-1 defeat? And Wednesday’s 3-0 loss? Wait for the next game, if not next year.

Rarely are fans so contented with a team that is not in front. It’s what comes of a September of possibility following a spring of low expectations.

“Who would have thought they would go from seventh to first, or second?” said Ward.

This is how the true Orioles fan feels -- the ones who go on cruises with the players, who play with the Orioles at “Dream Week” in Florida, who hold season tickets, who go to extremes to be there almost every game. And, in some cases, every game.

“We went to spring training and we were really encouraged,” said Ward. That would be Ward and his wife, Edie Williams. Both Saturday volunteers at the Babe Ruth Museum, they were married last December in the museum. This has been their honeymoon season.

“It’s fun to go to the ball park,” he said. “You never know exactly what’s going to happen. This is a team that’s done more stealing and bunting than Oriole teams in the past. It’s an all-around club with no single star, not even Cal Ripken or Mickey Tettleton. Everybody is putting in their two cents.”

A few sections away on the third-base side -- the Orioles side -- is Sampson, who’s been here 13 years. Every year. Every game. She’s the Cal Ripken Jr. of fans.

“I told Cal I’ve had a streak going longer than he has,” said the Orioles iron woman, “but he said I can’t have the record because I don’t go on the road. I said, ‘They don’t pay me to go on the road.’ ”

They don’t pay her to be at home either, but where could life be finer than in Section 4 right behind the fungo circle?

This is a team that has earned affection with its all-out, fundamentally sound play and a grittiness typified for Jean Sampson by Steve Finley. “What we’ve seen of him, because he’s been injured a couple times, he’s hard-nosed,” she said, recalling opening day when he helped set the tone for the season by crashing into the fence for a long drive.

Of course it’s much more than Finley. Mike Devereaux and Randy Milligan are the next who come to Sampson’s mind. And on and on. And so, she concluded, “It doesn’t matter what they do from this point out.”

Stephanie Moss, in Section 7, feels the same way. For every game, she drives in from Harrisburg, Pa., after work. She goes directly from work at a bank to the interstate to Baltimore to the stadium, where a parking-lot attendant has come to expect her and gets her into a front row. Not that it’s much of a problem because she pulls in just before 6, when the gates open. It’s the time to catch the end of Orioles batting practice. It’s usually the next day when she gets home.

“I’ve got an ’88 Chevy Sprint,” she said. “It gets good gas mileage.”

She bowed out with a cold after seven innings Monday night, leaving the mop-up work to Gregg Olson and getting a little extra rest for Tuesday night (when neither she nor Olson could change things). “When I bought a season ticket I didn’t think I’d use it every night,” she said, “but watching the team is addictive.”

Last November, Moss, 24, went on a cruise with Orioles fans and players Jim Traber, the departed Rick Schu, Bill Ripken and onetime bullpen legend Moe Drabowsky. She’s looking forward to another cruise. That’ll be after the season, or the playoffs, or the Series -- come what may.

The team may not be quite this acceptant, but for the most part has a warm glow about it. The players continue to reflect the attitude Frank Robinson has maintained all season. The manager has displayed a knack for getting neither too high in victory nor low in defeat. He’s been steady, like the fans.

“There’s plenty of pressure out there,” said 17-game winner Jeff Ballard, “if you let it be pressure.

“But things have been working out here pretty much. You try not to think how important the games are.”

Tettleton returning after knee surgery with a home run in his first at-bat in the starting lineup is the stuff that writers live for and fans can talk about through the winter. But Monday night the catcher-turned-full-time DH downplayed his team-high 23rd home run, but first since Aug. 2.

“There wasn’t any pressure to do something spectacular,” he insisted.

Not a twinkle could be seen in his blue eyes, not a hint in his voice that he had any reason to celebrate.

“I was just trying to get something out of each at-bat,” he said with a gravely forthright expression and his fireplug forearms crossed. “My main objective was to go up there and see as many pitches as I could. The only thing I was trying to do was stay relaxed.”

Then there was Phil Bradley, who had hit the dirt repeatedly on the base paths and gotten four hits. “I guess it’s hard to downplay a four-for-four night,” he said, “but it wasn’t one of the best nights I ever had.”

This is a club that could yet underwhelm the Blue Jays and never look back.

But if they don’t, Orioles fans still will be satisfied. “I don’t see any player who thinks he’s above being a team player,” said Dan Mink, a season-ticket holder and veteran of the Orioles’ “Dream Week” two years ago in Clearwater, Fla. He was opening an envelope, in it his application for World Series tickets.

Mink is an optimist -- he still thinks that Moreland “one of these days, all of a sudden, is going to heat up.”

He’s a serious fan. He barks at the games.

When something good happens for the Orioles, you can hear Dan Mink, this unearthly sound emanating from Section 8. It’s the cry of a large mongrel, carrying a great distance in the night.

Yet Mink too will be satisfied with second if the Orioles keep playing the way they’ve been, as best they can.

Nobody here is giving up, nobody is asking for more. They’ll take another game-winning home run from Devereaux or Tim Hulett, but they can also accept less. To them, the team is young and the future is bright if not now.