Friends, neighbors, fellow Baltimorons:
(And we can call each other Baltimorons, the rest of you can just back away from the term.)
I ask you to put down the torches and pitchforks on this obvious affront to the baseball gods. When Sports Illustrated called and asked for an essay they said nothing — nothing — about the cover. It’s a big magazine, with a lot of sports coverage. And I undertook what amounts to a sidebar-next-to-the-main-baseball-piece. And, hey, all of that runs inside the mag as a package right?
Had I known about the cover, I would have written half as long, and misspelled every other word, and scrawled it in crayon.
Yes, I am worried. Yes, at this instant — if not three days ago — I believe the jinx to be an absolute threat. An SI editor first mentioned the cover in a phone conversation with me on Monday, late afternoon. The O’s had won the first game of the Monday doubleheader, they dropped the second. And then they were shut out for the first time in almost two months last night.
Right now, I am so tight you couldn’t pull a pin out of my ass with a John Deere tractor.