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Nestor Aparicio

Orioles continue ban on free speech in Baltimore

So who is it gonna be next week? Or next year? Scott Garceau? Peter Schmuck? Steve Davis? Who’s next? So it seems, these days only Fred Manfra, Jim Hunter and Tom Davis — those bastions of journalistic integrity and fellow MASN employees — are safe. Maybe that’s the question the rest of the local and national media should be asking. Who’s next? Who will be the next person to show up at a sporting event — after spending nearly a quarter of a century in press boxes all around the continent in virtually every sport imaginable, it’s all I’ve ever done to feed my family since 1984 — only to be turned away by management for being too critical of the team? Having been an accredited media member for the totality of my career, I have never heard of such a thing, nor has anyone in my industry, until yesterday when I was denied entrance to Camden Yards. To have some young PR flunky in a tie meet me at the front door and say: “No thanks, the owner is not only not taking questions from the fans or the media, but he is now no longer making his team

Sitting home and watching the game.

It’s been strange day. The Orioles’ PR staff have been extremely cowardly, if not flat out incompetant, in dealing with me and my staff (not to mention Comcast Sports Net and WBAL)…The WNST press release was sent late last night and I STILL have no “official” anything from the Orioles — nothing more than a stop sign as I tried to pick up my credential today. Seven members of my staff had “passes.” I did not. First, I was NEVER informed of my station’s status or our credential request denial through any official source. A guy named Greg Bader, who I had never even met until he looked me in the eye at 2 p.m. behind home plate, informed me that I’m not a “real” media member anymore. The Orioles chose to call one of my employees just before 9 a.m. to say that, YES, we indeed DID have credentials for “selected” WNST members. I never received an email, letter, phone call…no nothing!Actually, when I walked over to the media gate, NO ONE in my COMPANY was really sure who had a pass and who didn’t. I walked to the media entrance with Michael Popovec, Drew Forrester and Rex Snider.Popovec,

Orioles deny WNST press credentials for 2007 season

PRESS RELEASE April 8, 2007                                                                                                                     FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE WNST RADIO BEING DENIED PRESS CREDENTIALS BY ORIOLES ON OPENING DAY IN BALTIMORE Towson-based Sports Media organization and radio station is considering legal action Baltimore — WNST-AM 1570, a 5,000-watt sports-talk radio station in Baltimore — and a staple in Baltimore sports media — is being denied credentials for the upcoming 2007 Orioles season by the team’s ownership and media relations department. Station owner “Nasty” Nestor Aparicio has repeatedly made attempts to procure press credentials from the team and has continued to be rebuffed. Aparicio and his staff have covered Baltimore Orioles’ baseball since Oriole Park at Camden Yards opened in 1992. “It’s just amazing that every single year, when you think it can’t get any worse, it does,” Aparicio said in a blog on his website, www.wnst.net. “Are they honestly trying to say that we’re not a legitimate media entity, after we’ve covered every major sporting event in this country for 15 years? Is it a personal attack? Is it an attempt to punish us for being honest in our assessment of the Orioles franchise? I really don’t know. But one of our chief complaints as an organization and as

You want to NOT be cynical, you really

I love baseball, and here in Baltimore on what would be a beautiful 80-degree today at Oriole Park, if our team had an owner with a clue, we’d all be at the ballpark. But, alas, just like Barry Manilow, I’m stuck in search of trying to get that feeling again. So, this weekend I went in search of the magic elixir of the nation’s pastime, trying to figure out on the eve of the 2007 season, if Major League Baseball is in as bad of shape as I think it is. What I found was — as usual — appalling. There I was on Saturday afternoon, tuning into MASN to get my first look at the 2007 O’s (I’ve been to enough spring training games and have wasted literally MONTHS of my life caring about games that always prove to be worthless…although the tan is nice) and the game was on from R.F.K. Stadium.  My first thought after seeing the crowd, or lack thereof, was this: maybe Peter Angelos was right or maybe his petty actions have made this is a self-fulfilling prophecy (Tom Boswell from The Washington Post would probably tell you it’s a little of both). Maybe this

Coping with the pain

After all of the hours of mulling over Saturday night’s biblical steamer at M&T Bank Stadium, I have come to one conclusion: when it comes down to “getting over it,” either your glass is half full or it’s half empty. And in some cases over the first two nights of my personal elimination from any more fun this NFL postseason, it depended on which hour you actually ask me. The emails started late Saturday night — actually more like Sunday morning, once the bars closed I got a curiously large pile of emails — mostly knee-jerk, rambling jibberish, the rumblings of a discontented and heartbroken public. I know how that feels because I’m ONE OF YOU! I came home, I wanted to cry, I watched the Philadelphia-New Orleans game and sulked and shouted random “F-bombs” and “Damns!,” mumbling out loud to no one in particular. Then I received a couple of my favorite emails (paraphrasing): “So, Nasty, you Dundalk jerk, are you going to go soft and talk about what a great season it was, blah, blah, blah or are you gonna tell the truth. That Billick is a horrible coach, Rex Ryan’s defense proved to be soft in the

Purple madness leads to orange sadness as we ring in 2007

I’m kinda taking in all of this Festivus and Super Bowl mania one day at a time. As much as I’m trying to have fun with all of the hype, excitement and wishful visions of palm trees and purple parties in South Florida in five weeks, I’m also try to temper my own pure, unadulterated joy in what the Ravens are doing to this city. I just want to slow these days down and savor every one because I know that either way it’s all going to be over very soon and very abruptly. And, I know you don’t want to hear it right now — and I can’t blame you, but I’m gonna lay it on you anyway because you NEED to hear it and I NEED to say it — this is how this city used to be not too long ago when it came to a certain orange bird and a magical three-generation love affair with our baseball team, which seemed to die a tragic civic death about a decade ago. For you youngsters out there — the ones who really don’t remember 1979 or 1983 — do you want some more proof about what Oriole Magic

Finding quality sports talk show hosts is not as easy as it sounded

So, we gathered the 14 finalists in the Donahoo Ford “So You Wanna Be a Sports Talk Show Host” contest Wednesday night at Orchard Landing for some cocktails, munchies and well, SPORTS TALK. Lemme take a second today to thank all of the participants, wannabes, basement tape makers and well, dreamers of the dream. In all we received 74 envelopes full of love and hope and sex and dreams. And every one of them seemed to arrive on the last day of the competition. Love because they all LOVED sports. Hope because they HOPED as a kid to grow up and do nothing but play sports, watch sports and talk sports. SEX because its what they weren’t having while they were watching sports over the last 25 or more years and while they were too damned busy watching the Orioles play and… DREAMS because many of these 74 folks were clearly dreaming. This contest has been fascinating for me on many levels. First, I received tapes from many listeners and even some friends who I never knew had any inspiration to want to do this. Real, honest to God, heartfelt letters and tapes with people who wanted to sit behind

Being there and seeing it on TV provide two very different views of the Raven

Sometimes I forget how lucky I am. I really do. I go everywhere the Ravens go and see almost everything they see on these crazy roadtrips that have been the most fun part of my life for 11 years now. Some trips I take lots of people — droves of people, like the two bus trips up to Milwaukee and Green Bay when I took 150 people or the Nashville playoff deal in 2001 when we took 180 — and other times I go alone, or just with my wife. Inevitably, I always wind up drinking beer with Mike Flynn’s parents and/or Bobby Nyk. And inevitably, I wind up sitting with, commiserating with and enjoying time with people in funny purple-colored body wear. And, much like Rod Stewart says, “Every picture tells a story.” I literally have thousands of pictures and mental snapshots from a life on the road in the fall. I’ve taken well over 3,000 people on Ravens roadtrips over the 11 years since the first one to Indy in 1996, where we watched the Orioles get eliminated from a bar called Jackass Flats. As much as I wrote a sappy, crazy but true online book about baseball

A perfect day for football at famed Arrowhead

From the minute the great Eddie Money took the wind-swept field in his Chiefs jersey and got 77,000 people to begin singing the National Anthem in unison, you just knew it was going to be a great day. Great weather, great stadium, great atmosphere — the best I’ve ever witnessed for a Ravens road game — there was nothing that yesterday lacked, except of course a division title and a first-round bye. I promise I won’t harp on that horrendous turd from 11 days ago in Cincinnati any more after this — especially considering the way the Ravens played yesterday and the ultra-short rest and sloppy road conditions that night in Southern Ohio — but the thoughts of what could’ve been certainly danced in my brain en route home from Missouri last night. And as much of a down performance as we saw last Thursday, the entire purple engine started firing on all cylinders again yesterday, much to the chagrin of the famous “Sea of Red” at Arrowhead Stadium. I suppose if you had offered me a split of these two, tough road games after the Ravens annihilation of the Steelers, I would’ve taken the deal. But when the scoreboard

Pimping the puck amidst a sea of purple fanaticism and orange irrelevance

So Agent Orange’s main squeeze, Hockey Meg, came by our place last week. The wife and I were mixing up a Bobby Flay coffeehouse steak, a few cocktails and watching some H-Dee puck from Filthy on Comcast Sports Net. Meg’s team, the Philadelphia Flyers, was playing my team, the Nashville Predators just 90 minutes north of my cozy living room. We had been planning for three months to get in the car and go to the game. I even went onto www.stubhub.com to see how much tickets were the day before the game. The Flyers are bad now and the demand for tickets is at an all-time low. As my main Philly man, producer Larry Rosen from “Rave TV” (he produces my favorite TV show, “Ravens Wired”) called them yesterday, “the once-proud” Flyers. The $55 downstairs tickets were available for as little as $10. And I could buy as many as I wanted at that price. But, once decision time came, and we found out for sure that the game was on in our homes in HD, the three of us were more content to watch in the game on Comcast and avoid the traffic, the ride, the late homecoming,

A day to rejoice…the Steelers and their fans finally get what they deserve

Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how much you hate the Pittsburgh Steelers until that Sunday comes every year when the team and their hideous fan base descend upon downtown Baltimore. It’s one of those rare things in life for me, that I can’t even justify it or rationalize it or control it, that visceral feeling I get when I see anything black and gold with that ugly emblem on it. And I know it’s not mature or adult-like or even sensible, but I just HATE the Pittsburgh Steelers — always have and always will. So, today’s Moon might come across as mean-spirited, immature or petty, but I’m really not too concerned about it. I feel I’m entitled to rant and rave and boast like a flaming idiot Steelers fan this morning — just like that towel-waver in your office or family or neighborhood, who I’m sure has attempted to make like as miserable as possible since February, when the NFL gods and officials conspired to grant the black and gold a World Championship and screw Mike Holmgren and the Seahawks. I could bore you with analysis or statistical breakdowns of yesterday’s 27-0 win at the purple palace, but you

Nasty with Art Donovan JH Charity June 1997 copy

Art Donovan tells Nestor about true love in the NFL

They told a lot of stories over the years but nothing better than hearing Artie talk about his love for Dottie Donovan. This is the third part of a lengthy chat with Fatso when he was still storytelling.

Nasty Deion Kordell1204

The night that Deion Sanders went PrimeTime from Parkville

He arrived with Kordell Stewart, refused to sign autographs and had an awesome mink coat. But as you will hear, Prime sat center stage and answered every question from every Ravens fan when he was no longer in the “prime” of his legendary career.

51477473 10206036384465596 6537312220219441152 o 2

The one time Frank Robinson talked baseball with Nestor

When the legendary Baltimore Orioles outfielder died in 2019, it was hard to find this clip but it made us smile when we did. And this 1992 picture is only one he could find from when the Hall of Famer umpired the “Broadcast vs. Print Media Baseball Game” at Camden Yards.

Orioles deny WNST press credentials for 2007 season

PRESS RELEASE April 8, 2007                                                                                                                     FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE WNST RADIO BEING DENIED PRESS CREDENTIALS BY ORIOLES ON OPENING DAY

Coping with the pain

After all of the hours of mulling over Saturday night’s biblical steamer at M&T Bank Stadium, I have come to

Nasty with Art Donovan JH Charity June 1997 copy

Art Donovan tells Nestor about true love in the NFL

They told a lot of stories over the years but nothing better than hearing Artie talk about his love for Dottie Donovan. This is the third part of a lengthy chat with Fatso when he was still storytelling.

Nasty Deion Kordell1204

The night that Deion Sanders went PrimeTime from Parkville

He arrived with Kordell Stewart, refused to sign autographs and had an awesome mink coat. But as you will hear, Prime sat center stage and answered every question from every Ravens fan when he was no longer in the “prime” of his legendary career.

51477473 10206036384465596 6537312220219441152 o 2

The one time Frank Robinson talked baseball with Nestor

When the legendary Baltimore Orioles outfielder died in 2019, it was hard to find this clip but it made us smile when we did. And this 1992 picture is only one he could find from when the Hall of Famer umpired the “Broadcast vs. Print Media Baseball Game” at Camden Yards.

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