The cardinal rule of wagers: be prepared for the pay-off

This Just In...

July 14, 2000|By Dan Rodricks

I LOVE TO be standing there when men who grew up in Baltimore argue sports, especially when the argument relates to their high school days. This is such a small town. Two minutes into chit-chat at almost any party, and grown men are comparing notes on where they went to high school and, if their respective alma maters were rivals, who won the Thanksgiving Day football game in some distant year when Nixon was president.

It happened again Sunday evening. Two guys at a spaghetti supper - Ralph E. Moore Jr. and David McElroy - started in with that Calvert Hall-Loyola thing. I've heard it so many times. Get two guys together - one from The Hall, the other from Loyola - and they start speaking their own language. They seem to remember the finer details of things, but this time Moore, the Loyola Class of '70 guy, and McElroy, the Calvert Hall Class of '70 guy, couldn't agree on which of the two teams - in the longest Catholic-school football rivalry in the United States - won the 1969 Thanksgiving game at Memorial Stadium.

Moore insisted that players and students threw Loyola coach Joe Brune into a swimming pool after the victory. McElroy was certain The Hall had won the game. They went back and forth for way too long - one of them was definitely having a senior moment - so I intervened and agreed to settle the argument. (Actually, I hooked Sun librarian Sandy Levy into settling it.) For the record: Phil Marsiglia kicked a 42-yard field goal on the last play of the game to give Calvert Hall a 17-14 win.

McElroy wins the bet. Moore has to wear a cardinal on his head at the next Thanksgiving game.

Politics can be pretty

From TJI reader Lillian Bunton: "I was sitting at an outside table at Donna's in Canton this week when V.P. Al Gore came and went. Amid the post-visit flurry of cell-phone calls, a woman (who appeared to be a muckety-muck with Donna's or the building management or something) came outside and announced to her cell-phone contact: `Well, we all agreed, the mayor is better looking.' I guess Bibelot's intellectual aura can't penetrate those overpriced coffee fumes."

A city that rents by the hour

From TJI reader Tim Marshallsay: "My favorite sign in Baltimore at the moment is the one on a parking lot on Conway Street, approaching the Inner Harbor. It says, `Central Parking Welcomes You to Baltimore! Three Hours $16.'"

Extending the olive branch

Comment from Darryl, the African-American man caught up in that racially tinged house-hunting misunderstanding described in this space Monday: "Although the column was not particularly flattering to me, I thought it was fair. I did jump to a conclusion (about a white home-seller's actions), but I also think that this whole situation had a positive outcome. I learned a lot. The experience has helped me spiritually. It reminded me of something that I heard a while ago: `Every white man is not your enemy, every black man is not your brother.'

"Now I feel like I have to act. I'd like you to come to my housewarming party. I'd also like to invite Sam. We can talk and share a beer, some dogs and burgers. You can meet some of my friends and family. We have to start somewhere. How about here and now?"

Count me in, Darryl.

Sam, you going?

For sale, one slightly worn ...

Remember the tennis ball Ravens All-Pro linebacker Ray Lewis squeezed each day for stress relief during his trial in Atlanta? On the day Lewis entered his guilty plea to obstruction of justice, he handed off the ball one last time to his daily escort, private investigator Rashid Abdul-Salaam. An athlete, but no tennis player, Abdul-Salaam doesn't feel particularly attached to the ball and wonders whether a Ravens fan - or a collector of things related to celebrated criminal cases - would be interested in buying it as a keepsake. His toll-free number is 800-410-6437.

Deodorants for drugs?

There was a time when stories like this would be at least mildly amusing: A man described as 6 feet tall, 190 pounds, swiped 36 sticks of Right Guard deodorant - the "Sport" scent - from a CVS store on Reisterstown Road in Northwest Baltimore on Monday afternoon. It was one of those rare hot and humid summer of 2000 days, with lots of perspiration in the forecast. Maybe the guy was concerned about personal hygiene. (Yeah, right. Ha-ha.) But he probably was a pathetic drug addict who took the Right Guard into a "secondary market," where he no doubt sold the sticks for drug money. It just isn't funny anymore, is it? It's gotten old, this stuff. So old.

Love letter to the drive-in

Note to D. Edward Vogel, owner of Bengies Drive-In and writer of a two-page letter he doesn't want me to quote in part, only in full: We love the place, babe. Love you, love the show. Please keep it going. Just lighten up a little bit on the enforcement of those food-and-beverage rules. Have a nice weekend. ("Chicken Run" at twilight, "X Men" at 10:45.)

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