So what makes SPH so great. Well i can sit here and list everything. But i dont have a week i only have a couple minutes before i get tired. So I will cover the everyday things that most people run into. First and Foremost. It is FREE, not it is free to sign up and charge you a car payment to read a message from someone that doesnt exist. It is free with real people. But it can only be free with everyone support. There is a donation page, I have used it and i plan on donating again and again just to keep SPH open. Second, there is no other place on the web (that i have found) that is as nice as everyone in SPH. If you have a problem we help you out. If you are down we bring you up. If you are having the best day every we get happier. Third, Nothing rubs me the wrong way than to join a site and find out it is just a bunch of pictures of models and fake profiles. so that leads me into something i already have said before. This place is nothing but real people. And last big point. There is a wonderful staff of Creaters, moderators, and VIPs (that one day i hope to be a part of but thats only a hope) They make the SPH world go round and round. If it wasnt for thier tiring efforts SPH would not work as great as it does now.

    With all of this said, I would like to bring it to a close before i turn this into a mini series of blogs saying how much SPH has been great. But nothing could be possible without the great Sarahjane and nefarious1 plus the always sexy Whisperfect and sexylatina, and many many more. I am proud to know everyone here and be able to call this my slice of internet paradise. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAHS PLAYHOUSE HAPPY BIRTHDAY, may 3 be just the begining of your long lasting life.

I'm going to dissapear for the next few days.....  I appreciate everyones thoughtfulness and concern.  Being the new kid on the block here at Sarahsplayhouse, I've had a very warm reception from some very very awesome people.  I wouldnt trade it for anything.   Thank you all.   I'll be back in  a few days....... just need a breather to figure this all out. 

Thanks,  Mike - Aka - Lord Bacon

                I couldn’t tell you what Babe Ruth’s batting average for 1925 was, I couldn’t tell you what Mike Mussina’s ERA was at Rochester. My understanding of the game didn’t come from statistics and averages, however well I may have known them; it came out of the Love of the Game. In 1979, I was 7 years old and didn’t know what an Oriole was, but I knew who the Orioles were.

                His name was Charles Michaels, he wasn’t my father but he wanted to be the best Godfather he could be. I was always around him whenever I could be because the only thing that mattered more to him than me was The Oriole Way. He would read the paper to me and tell me what the Orioles did the night before (though it sounded like Greek to me at the time), but it wasn’t what he said; it was the way he said it. He loved the team we called “Dem Birds, hon” and I couldn't help but love it too.

                All I wanted to do from that point on in mid summer of ’79  was play baseball and be like the players that lit up his evenings and early mornings. So I tried and played for the Fort Meade T-ball O’s. I was rendered in right field and only batted .175 with no real clue as to the fundamentals of the game. Needless to say, it was the only team I would ever play for til I turned 37 years old. I was shipped off to boarding/military school because I was an 8 yr old ADHD handful that my mother and her husband couldn’t handle. I was separated from my uncle Charles and in turn separated from the only thing that kept me interested in baseball.  I didn’t stop trying on my own though; I would find a glove and ball during my free time and throw to a back stop that didn’t throw it back…

                I was the kid that no one liked or thought was weird and I unfortunately got used to it.  When the Orioles were in contention in 1982, I was still hanging with my “Unk” because not going to school with the kids in my neighborhood made it hard for me to make friends. We would do handy man jobs in the mornings and then spend the afternoons listening to the games that were on or fiddle about til the evening when they came on.  I distinctly remember one summer evening that year when we were getting back into the Chevy Capri station wagon with all his tools in the back with the electronic door and window. When I heard Chuck Thompson say, “Here is Cal Ripken, he’s 1-3 with …..” and in the same moment Unk reached over and back handed my shoulder playfully (this was indication to pay TF attention) and said, “Remember that name.”

                Now Unk loved the Orioles, but not more than he loved Cal. So I thought to myself and then spoke aloud ”Cal Ripken? I know who he is.” Then the stern look came over his face and I knew he was serious. “Remember that name because mark my words; his name will become synonymous with Baltimore.”  That was 1982. Unk passed a just few months shy of ten years later to the day. He never saw the Streak, he never saw him go to 16 All-Star appearances, nor did he get to see him hit a home run in his last All Star game, but most of all he missed out seeing him being inducted into the Hall of Fame. He got to see Camden Yards at Oriole Park be built and open but he never got to see how green the grass was on the field or sit behind 3^rd and have the Warehouse as a backdrop.  A Warehouse that a year and 9 days after his death Ken Griffey Jr. would use as a backstop. So I knew who Cal Ripken was and I would never forget.

                We had some good times though; we never played catch because of his health or I just never asked. Mostly it was just talking baseball with the radio on with  the T.V.'s sound turned all the way down if we watched it at all (HTS was in its infancy). Though Chuck would paint the picture with the art of Michelangelo, Unk would explain to me why a right handed pitcher would throw outside on a 1-3 count to a left handed pitcher with a runner on 1^st. The unwritten rules were just as important as the written ones. What retaliation was for throwing high and inside or stealing with an insurmountable lead, what a phantom tag was and why umps had their own ideas of what a strike zone was. Baseball made me the happiest I had ever been because of whom I shared it with. Those were winning years till 1988. We had already survived the Colts leaving in '83, but that was blown over by a World Championship, a rookie of the year, an MVP, as well as a World Series MVP by my other favorite player.  That early summer, I had never seen him so distraught.  He had already seen the man he wanted to lead us out of the cellar take over for the greatest manager that the Orioles had ever had, only to be summarily dismissed 7 games into the second year of his managerial career (after an abysmal retooling when The Earl of Baltimore hung it up again for the final time). 22 games were torture. Every day lasted just a bit longer than normal, like watching a pot boil. Play resumed to normal after that and we went on to ride the Why Not season to the final series of the season, when Toronto took the 1^st two games to crush our playoff hopes.

                There have been ups and downs in the life of the Orioles, but some of my fondest memories had nothing to do with wins or loses. Just having the game that made me think more about life than any other institution ever did. I would be remiss if I didn’t say I have been heartbroken since Pete did his best to be Steinbrenner and buy the 96-97 World Championships. In the past 14 years I have watched, listened and attended as many games as I could. Imparting my wisdom on my children, teaching them that the game, is just as important as winning it. That spending a few hours around a small patch of grass can do more for your soul than a church because of whom and why you spend time there; that sitting there talking the game out or just in complete and understood silence could be all the reasons to  love the game. I have taken my kids to many, many games but I may have been to more all by myself. There is an understood camaraderie amongst fans of the game, not just a team so there is always a conversation to be had. Maybe that's the reason they call it home plate.  Please understand, every facet of life can be referenced to baseball; whether you are talking about girls or grades or work.  It doesn’t matter. You can always relate baseball to Life and vice versa.  There is family (though it kills me to use that ref 1979) in baseball. The team is like my children and gets my love unconditionally.  It’s hard not to be romantic about baseball. When that tradition is disrespected by those who don’t know the intricacies of the game, it makes it that much harder to pass on.

                It kills me when I hear people say that baseball is boring. To that I can only say I feel sorry for you. I sympathize with you because you never had anybody teach you what the game is all about. My daughter is 8 now and will turn 9 during the season. If you asked her what her favorite color was 4 years ago she would tell you Orange. Not because of the Orioles, but because it is a color she associates with me due to my wardrobe and interior decorating. She loves the Orioles because I do, but I dream of the day that she loves them for her own reasons. When she will take my grandchildren to games and teach them as I have taught her. 

                In 1856 the game of baseball was fundamentally founded and instantly became America's Pastime. Since then there have been many changes to the game, but the basic principles of the game have not. It still take 27 outs and there is no clock. The defense puts the ball in play and the team with the most runs after 9 innings still wins. The rest is semantics and really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things as they reflect life. Alexander Cartwright didn’t envision the billions of dollars that turned this kid’s game into a king’s ransom, but had he foreseen this, we may not have the game we have today; the game I love and adore. This game that teaches us about life, passion, the pursuit of happiness and most of all about one another.  And so we round the bases and pull in to home sliding, standing or in a fierce and violent crash. Either way we learn to live, preferably with the game than without.  So when you're complaining about where in the standings we are, remember that The Oriole Way was once great and to a degree, is still proud. The game is more than just a score; it is the derivation and analogy of what we live and love; life.

      So i got to thinking what is self confidence? Is it the clothes that you wear. If it is the clothes you wear what type of clothes should one person wear. The clothes that are fashionably correct for this season or the clothes that define a person. I am laid back i like some nice loose fitting sweat pants and a t-shirt. But the fashion police look at me and arrest me for commiting an attrocity.  But then it isnt the clothes that one wears.

    So then i thought again hard. Is it the way you sit, stand, walk, or present yourself. If it is then where is that school where they teach you to sit a certain way to get attention or walk a certain way. well big news there isnt one. but, lets not get to far ahead of ourselves the way we present ourselves do have a part in it. But only because of the self- confidence you have. So in order to better present yourself you have to have atleast some self confidence.

      At this time i was running out of options when something came to mind. your self confidence is based on the way you see your self. Let me repeat that THE WAY YOU SEE YOURSELF. It isnt based on how others see yourself. I look at myself like richard simmons does when he is scarfing a pizza down in front of a mirror. It isnt pretty. i have had this negative look at myself only on my appearance though. The media has thrown around what people should look like and for some reason i look in the mirror and want to see that person. But because i dont see that person i have little self confidence in approaching a woman and engageing in conversation. So that is where i need someones help in helping me get some self confidence. What should i do? besides the obvious and jump out of my confort zone and throw myself in the pit of wolves.

      I cant think of any other way to end this besides asking What should i do?