Chapter 2

One thing hard to get used to in the Rookie Leagues is the late start on the season.

June!

I was eager -- overeager to get started when the season finally got underway. I'd already been in Bluefield for almost six weeks. It was a nice little town. I hoped the fans would show up when we opened the season at last.

We opened against the Danville Braves and although my young starting pitcher got rattled early and didn't throw like I knew he could, we ended up winning, 8-7 in ten innings. The crowd was fine -- a full house and lots of enthusiasm.

Game two the next night wasn't quite the financial or artistic success of the first one, but we had maybe 800 people in the stands to watch us lose, 6-3.

By the time we'd completed our first short road trip, we were sitting in second place in the Division, behind Pulaski, and we hadn't even played them yet. My pitching staff was starting to get it together and I had at least three kids who could really hit!

I was excited about the prospects and I told the Orioles so in my e-mail reports. I only hoped my bragging on these kids didn't end up costing me one or more of them, through promotion in mid-season to a more important farm club in the chain.

Over the July 4 weekend we were home against Burlington and there was a big (for us) holiday crowd there on the evening of July 3. The club had a special Fan's Day session going on, and our players (and I, too) were under pressure to sign autographs before the game, and generally mix it up with the fans. For most of my kids, it was a delightful time -- getting fussed over a little by the fans. For some of them, it was the first time in their careers.

Lots of people wanted my autograph, too. Some of the older fans knew I'd been in the Bigs, and although few, if any, could cite chapter-and-verse about my career milestones, they figured my autograph might be worth something.

Maybe a quarter.

A little girl -- maybe ten years old -- came up and gave me a big smile and pushed an autograph book toward me. She was organized -- the book had hard covers, and the blank page she'd directed me to sign was well into the book. I took a quick look at the preceding page and found Cal Ripken's name on it!

"Cal Ripen!" I said. "Pretty impressive. --You sure you want my autograph in this book?"

"Sure I do," the little girl said. "You're a big-leaguer!"

Sweet kid! "How'd you get Cal's autograph?" I asked.

"He played here!" she said.