between 1966 and 1983 and won HALF of the World Series they were in (and really BONED themselves in two others!).
It’s now been 23 years since they’ve even sniffed a return visit!
So, to say that this was a “baseball town” and a baseball community with an innate baseball bond would be speaking the biblical truth. Baseball is this tiny sport — with less than 750 players at any given time — but many people in Baltimore could name them all at one point, especially if you were a big baseball fan.
When I was out banging pots and pans in the street that afternoon in 1983 it was impossible to bother the neighbors because they were out there with me.
Across the street, I was banging pots and pans with a guy named Mike Brewer, who was about three years younger than me and I was a week shy of my 15th birthday. We called him Flea in the neighborhood, but he’s now Curt Schilling’s brother in law.
I can’t believe it took me this long to mention the first girl I ever knew. Curt Schilling’s wife of 15 years — the former Shonda Brewer, Flea’s sister — was one of my best friends growing up in Colgate. She lived across the street, was an outstanding baseball player on our church lot (she was the one girl you kinda drafted ahead of a bunch of the lame boys) and was always one of the neighborhood’s prettiest girls.
But make no mistake about it: she was a super jock and she DID NOT throw like a girl!
She met Curt Schilling when he was an Oriole in the late 1980’s and she was working as Tom Davis’ on-field producer for those old dugout shots on Home Team Sports. I always bumped into her at Capitals’ games in Largo, and she also did Wizards’ games.
She married Curt in November 1992 (I was the music DJ for the reception at Martin’s North Point Gardens), right around the time he was about to catch fire as a key starter who’d lead MY Philadelphia Phillies to the World Series in 1993. Shonda absolutely HATED (and I mean HATED) that Richie Ashburn Phils’ lid I used to sport around during junior high school. She definitely threw it