biensoul


a required taste for the pretentious as all get out


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he was bronzed because he was made of iron: classiest class of 2007
August 02, 2007, 8:06 pm

If I would have been born a boy, my name would have Brooks Robert Biensoul. Robert, after my dad, and Brooks, after the greatest 3rd baseman of all time, Brooks Robinson.

Yeah, you could say my parents are Orioles fans.

On Sunday, wearing t-shirts that read, "If it wasn't for the ORIOLES, I never would have been born!" with number 8 proudly displayed on the front, my sisters and my parents and I watched as Cal Ripken was inducted into the Hall of Fame.

Maybe everyone is right: maybe baseball as the American Pasttime is on its way out. But for us, this past weekend, we had never seen it more alive. EVERYWHERE we turned, people were donning black and orange (a sight non-existent at Camden Yards these days, with Yankees fans snapping up all the tickets to O's home games) and yelling about Cal. We watched the O's/Yankees game in a Yankee bar, and 99% of the folks there were screaming for the O's victory.

With tears streaming down my face, I listening to Cal's speech, and I thought of how the game of baseball had forged its own path in creating relationships between fathers and sons, and for my dad, the relationships he had with his daughters.

In telling Bob the Builder all of this, we agreed that although football is his first love above all, we would name our first boy Brooks Calvin to celebrate Baltimore's pride; unfortunately, he took my suggestion of "Mr. Boh" none too seriously. (Oh, and don't get excited, there's no baby on the way. I guess if you're just with someone who makes it all feel right, you have silly conversations about baby names every once in a while. It goes along well with the engagement talk, you see.)


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