Oh me of little faith.<\/p>\n

I’ll admit, I was pretty down once Brian McCann hit his solo home run in the top of the ninth inning in Sunday night’s game. Usually, when something like that happens, it takes the air out of the building. Instead, Camden Yards celebrated.<\/p>\n

At least 35% of the 43,947 present were driven into a frenzy, and suddenly, it became 2003\u00a0 again. The stands were packed with smug Yankees fans, and their team was beating the Orioles – in the most heartbreaking fashion.<\/p>\n

Heartbreaking, because this wasn’t the way the script was supposed to go. The Orioles weren’t supposed to wilt before the pressure of a third-place team on national television. Their best reliever, Darren O’Day, was supposed to be a shut-down reliever. He was the LAST person who should have given up the game-winner. The Orioles were supposed to be trimming their Magic Number to three, not delaying inevitability. They certainly were not supposed to put me through this. Not again.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I’ll admit it: Negative Nancy came out, and she was not pretty. I turned to my (very patient) wife and said “well, the middle of the order is up. Do you think it will take more than nine pitches for the three of them to strike out, trying to hit a home run?” My baseball experience had become a dark and stormy night – even though the weather was beautiful.<\/p>\n

Shame on me. I should have known.<\/p>\n

I should have known that, unlike 2003, the O’s wouldn’t roll over in the ninth. The We Won’t Stop <\/em>mantra wasn’t just lip service to the fans.<\/p>\n