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Chapter 16: Who is on your personal sports “All Star” team?

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and behold, Eric Bell was throwing a no hitter at the Metrodome in Minnesota.

I immediately pointed the car through the Fort McHenry tunnel and rushed back to Kane Street to get in front of a television.

She was a little frustrated, but I figured she’d understand because she was from Baltimore (again, I was 18 at the time, and I just thought everyone in the world thought baseball and a potential no-hitter was as important as I thought it was!). We got back to my place, where I immediately threw the game on and Bell was into the eighth inning and rolling against the Twins in Minneapolis.

This “date” of mine got antsy, and decided she was going to get up and dance in front of the television in order to block my view and get more attention. Finally she just stood in the way with her arms folded and she refused to budge, while I was looking left and right trying to move her so I could see.

She thought she was being amusing. I thought she was being an idiot!

Moments later, in the ninth inning, Bell gave up a hit, and I suddenly “acquired” a tremendous headache so I “had to take her home.”

I was so pissed off that I actually missed the hit that I could barely speak to her “while my head throbbed.” Fifty bucks on dinner, I missed most of the game, she was a lousy date AND the Orioles blew the no-hitter and damn-near lost the game in the ninth, when they surrendered four runs and held on to win, 5-4.

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It was our last conversation.

Needless to say, any woman who would stand between a man and an Orioles’ no-hitter was a woman who was NOT worthy of a second date.

But, sometimes, when I let my guard down, my good fortune and this city’s finest female baseball fans would shock me.

One time, I met a girl at a Monday Night Light show of mine at The Barn in 1999. She was a stunningly beautiful blonde and we struck up a conversation. She said she liked baseball, but she didn’t have a clue who I was or what I did, which I always preferred. I said I had a “connection” to get O’s tickets if she wanted to go to a game. We were hanging out on our first date and discussing sports and she said was a “huge baseball fan” and that I could “ask her anything.”

Now, that’s a pretty bold thing to say to me. Do you have any idea how many girls I’ve met in a bar who tell me that they “know” sports (the number is literally in the Wilt Chamberlain range!) and what they mean is that they “like” sports. And there’s nothing wrong with that! There’s NOTHING cooler to me than a beautiful women who likes sports — specifically baseball, football or hockey!

But there is a difference for a sports talk show host whose life is wrapped around knowing EVERYTHING about sports, not just taking a casual interest.

So, this was a pretty well-rehearsed routine of “Stump the girl I’m on a date with using sports trivia,” because most girls on dates with me really DID want to impress me with their sports acumen.

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For me, it was also the easiest way to root out whether or not this girl was a date, a potential girlfriend, a potential wife or a potential early evening exit, like the redhead from the mall.

If the girl knew sports, I was at the VERY least going to enjoy her company considerably more, being that I HAD TO WATCH SPORTS ON TV EVERY NIGHT! IT WAS MY JOB FOR 14 YEARS!!!!!

So, this hotshot little blonde challenged me and I came up with a few softballs. They were too easy, I quickly sensed.

So I just busted out a question that even I didn’t even have the answer for.

So, I asked her to give me the starting rotation of the Houston Astros. It was September 1998. She rattled off Randy Johnson, Mike Hampton, Jose Lima, Sean Bergman (who I didn’t even know), and then, stuttered and stammered. And finally, she said, “Is Shane Reynolds still in the rotation?”

Whew! Still, it was the most impressive machine-gun assault I’d ever been subjected to by a female on a first date, at least one who wasn’t “connected” in the industry as a sports media person or a sports employee.

I HAD to date that girl after that, right?

Can you imagine, though, in 2006 walking up to a girl at Della Rose’s and being able to talk roto baseball with her now? You might as well being looking for a girl who can read The Racing Form.

After nine years of fatigue, baseball is heading dangerously in the direction of the horse racing and boxing industries. Those three sports — or what they really are, industries — ruled our society from 1920 through 1980, that’s 60 years, really. I would bet that no one would bet a nickel on boxing

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