Streak Squared

It was more than 47 years ago that Ernie Tyler began the second most famous streak in Baltimore baseball history.

Tyler, the umpires' attendant at Oriole Park at Camden Yards, has worked 3,773 consecutive games, dating back to the start of the 1960 baseball season. Like Cal Ripken, Jr., Tyler has let nothing stand between him and his duty to show up to work everyday. Neither births nor deaths, severe weather nor illness persuaded Tyler to take a day off. But one 30 second phone call has changed everything.

This weekend, Tyler's streak will end at 3,775 games. The reason? A personal invitation from Cal Ripken, Jr. to attend the Hall of Fame Induction festivities and ceremony in Cooperstown. Ernie said it took him less than half a minute to accept the invitation. Somehow, this seems the only fitting ending to such a fabulous tale -- one iron man reaching out to another and both celebrating the glory of Baltimore baseball together.

Tyler plans to take a week off after his trip to Cooperstown, but says of his streak "part two will start August 7." At 83 years of age, Ernie still jogs to the home plate umpire with fresh baseballs between pitches. He skips to his stool near the Orioles dugout dozens of times each game. And he still rubs down dozens of balls by hand each night, preparing them with the special New Jersey mud that is available only to professional baseball teams.

It may seem that Tyler's streak isn't as remarkable as Cal's, after all, he only works home games and gets long breaks when the team is on the road. But taking into consideration the fact that Tyler did not begin working for the Orioles until 1954, after retiring from his career with the U.S. government; given that he has worked every single home game for almost 50 years, even as he aged well beyond the years that most Baltimoreans consider working age; and recognizing that he has not been collecting 7-digit (or even 6-digit) paychecks for his labor, Tyler is indeed more the symbol of the hardworking Marylander than any professional ball player could ever be.

I love that it is the Orioles that inspire this type of dedication (although I suspect that no one gaining employment in the Angelos era is starting any of these streaks). I am proud of Maryland for raising men with this type of passion and grit. And I love that it's Baltimore that kept these men smiling everyday of their legendary streaks.

In a day and a half, I'll be heading to Cooperstown to celebrate Cal. He was about so much more than The Streak (Rookie of the Year, World Series, MVP, 18 consecutive All-Star selections, redefining the shortstop position, The Oriole Way, I could go on...), but knowing that Ernie will be among Cal's entourage really shows how much The Streaks mean not just to baseball fans, but to the hardworking guys that created them.

She just keeps going, and going, and going...

It has begun. And by "it," I mean the process of cramming 3 months of summer activities into one hyperactive month of fun.

This past Wednesday night, I said goodbye to Pittsburgh in style -- my style. I spent the evening parked on a bar stool, sipping on a steady stream of delicious brews from all around the world. Surrounded by about 20 friends, it was the only way I could have imagined a farewell for me to be. No pressure. No raucousness. Just beer and laughs.

On Thursday, I packed my car and drove to MD, arriving in time to grab an ice cream with my dad at sundown, but then my body gave up and I fell asleep. On Friday, four of my friends and I packed into my little, exhausted car and drove to Baltimore for the Os game (which they actually won!) After oohing and aahing at the post-game fireworks, we headed to Fell's Point and bar hopped until 2am. We slept at my house in Columbia, and then did it all again on Saturday: Baltimore, record stores, tasty lunch, ska show, good times.

It was the perfect way to kick off what is sure to be a crazy month of summer. This week is pretty calm, but on July 22 I'll be making a one-day trip to Wilmington for a BBQ and Counting Crows concert. Then it's off to Cooperstown the following weekend for Cal Ripken, Jr.'s induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame, plus camping and brewery tours with friends. Right after I get back from that epic road trip, I'm headed to the beach first with friends, then with family. And less than a week after I get back from the beach, it's off to Mexico!

I cannot get a handle on the amount of stuff I am about to do in such a short amount of time. Looking back, I see how I was really in a rut (maybe I should just called it a routine) that had kept me from living it up in Pittsburgh. No offense to the town or the people there, it's that whole "comfort thing"; I didn't have a fear about missing out or wasting time because when I was there I felt like I had all the time in the world. Now that I am in transition and I know I only have a limited amount of time to hang with friends and family, I'm packing it all in.

At the heart of things, that's what I really love about traveling. When I'm on the road, I go-go-go to pack in as much as I can because I know the adventure will end. That's why just living in another country would never satisfy my wanderlust. That's why as soon as I arrive somewhere, I figure out when I will be leaving -- the fear of running out of time gives me the energy to pack in as much as possible.

I am not a calm person. I never will be. But I'm sure as heck glad that I can look back and say, "Yup, I did that!"