If I Were To Write A Piece Of Flash Fiction About The Baltimore Orioles,

I think I would probably make use the time I found a radio broadcast of their game against the Kansas City Royals one late spring afternoon as I drove through a certain section of Virginia; how — as I looked out the window at a red light and saw a joyous cocker spaniel bouncing his feelings across the stretch of a lawn — I heard the announcer relay the fact that they have been giving up an exceptionally large amount of runs in the first inning this season, and then I heard the crack and the dog heard the crack and looked to me and — I swear to God — mouthed the words, “Oh no”; how it was 10 to nothing before the light even changed; how I started having flashbacks to the time Jose Canseco pitched for the Red Sox as the radio announcers said things that sounded a lot like, “And now there’s a seagull just quietly sitting on Chris Tillman’s head! And it won’t get off!” And how typical it was of some corners of spring.