Eric Davis, 1998 Upper Deck #39

Just a reminder: Adam Jones is not the first lithe, power-hitting Orioles outfielder to enjoy a good wad of bubble gum. Eric Davis was blowing bubbles while Adam Jones was still in middle school.

Sidney Ponson, 1998 Upper Deck #594

2013 marks the 60th season in Orioles history. Over these last six decades, there have been 46 complete-game shutouts thrown by 22 different O's pitchers against the Yankees. As follows general trends in pitcher usage (and team trends in pitcher quality), only five of those shutouts have come in the last 30 years. You can find the full list here. Some interesting notes:

-As you might expect, Jim Palmer leads the way with seven whitewashes of the New Yorkers. He is followed by Dave McNally (six), Mike Cuellar (five), and ex-Yankee farmhand Scott McGregor (four, though one was a rain-shortened six-inning game).

-Charlie Beamon had only three career victories, and one of them was a wild four-hit, seven-walk, nine-strikeout blanking of Whitey Ford and the Yanks on September 26, 1956. The Birds did not turn a single double play and caught one runner stealing (Joe Collins in the first inning), but the Yankees went 0-for-5 with runners in scoring position and stranded 10.

-The highest Game Score was 93, for Hoyt Wilhelm's 1958 no-hitter.

-Mike Mussina never blanked the Bronx Bombers, but Bob Milacki did it twice! Baseball, man.

-Sidney Ponson is the only O's pitcher to shut out the Yankees from 1993 to the present day. On September 4, 2004, he needed 109 pitches to beat them 7-0. All New York could muster were a pair of hits and a walk. Mike Mussina was the tough-luck loser (2 ER in 7 IP), and Mariano Rivera was blasted for four runs in one-third of an inning in a non-save situation. See note on Bob Milacki.

I'm telling you all of this because the Orioles have hit their first truly ugly stretch on the year, losing five in a row to the Padres and Rays. This is not the best time to be facing the Yankees, especially when tonight's pitching matchup is CC Sabathia (17-3 career vs. the O's) against Freddy Garcia (eight runs allowed in his last nine and two-thirds innings pitched). We need something weird to happen to snap out of this funk.

Cal Ripken, Jr., 1998 Upper Deck #310

Last night I had the pleasure, for the second time in my life, of watching my city's football team win the Super Bowl. As I did back in 2001, I celebrated at my aunt and uncle's house with much of my mother's side of the family. There was wine and beer (for the third straight Ravens' postseason game, I went with Loose Cannon triple-hopped IPA, my favorite brew from Baltimore's Heavy Seas outfit), purple Jell-O shots to celebrate touchdowns by our guys, and tons of good food. Meatballs, crab soup, crab pretzels, jambalaya...we even had an ice cream cake for my uncle's 50th birthday. Some people are nervous wrecks when watching their favorite team in a high-stakes game, but I'd rather be around folks that are near and dear to me. When things are going well, it's great to add your voice to a group cheer rather than letting it bounce of the walls of your own empty living room. Every big play by the Ravens set off a round of jubilant high-fives. Even when things got surprisingly tense in the midst of San Francisco's second-half rally, I appreciated the companionship of my girlfriend and my family. I might have been pacing the house, ranting and raving, if I had stayed home. I even won $12 in our low-stakes score grid pool thanks to coach John Harbaugh's choice to take a deliberate safety to set up a game-ending free kick.

The Orioles have notably gone 30 years since their last World Series win. Even the comparatively-short 12-year gap between Ravens' championships seemed significant when watching scores of notable players (Todd Heap, Derrick Mason, Bart Scott, Jarret Johnson) pass through Charm City without winning a ring. As I've spent my adult life watching my two primary rooting interests ride different tracks, I've thought about how difficult it is to ride the right combination of talent and good fortune to a title. As demoralizing as it was to see the O's stumble around the basement for 14 years, there was a different sort of agony in witnessing several very good Ravens teams sacrifice so much energy and physical well-being only to fall just short time and again. I've got a different appreciation for this Super Bowl than the first one. The Ravens were only in their fifth season when they captured that initial Lombardi Trophy, and it was the first time that they had even been to the playoffs. It wouldn't always be that easy. I wasn't even completely jaded by the Orioles yet. Even with three straight sub-.500 seasons, they'd still been contenders in half of my eight seasons of fandom to that point. The playoff pushes of 1996 and 1997 were still fresh in my mind.

A popular sports cliche says that "Flags Fly Forever". It's a good thing that they do, because they're harder to get than you'd think. I'll see you at the parade tomorrow morning.

Eric Davis, 1998 Upper Deck #424

I remember spending those uneasy early months of the 2012 season comparing and contrasting this year's Orioles with the fluky but ultimately doomed 2005 and 2008 versions. With 27 games left to play, the "What the Buck?" O's have already blown past the full-season win totals of those two lamentable clubs and are now being measured against the 1997 Wire-to-Wire squad...as in, "The Orioles have not been in first place in the American League East in September since 1997". Sure, that's a long time. But just how long has it been?

-In September 1997, I was starting my sophomore year of high school. I couldn't drive a car, hadn't even had a summer job or grown my first goofy goatee. I looked a little something like this:

-Hell, my younger sister was 12. She has now been married for nearly three years.

-The single-season home run record was still held by Roger Maris, who hit 61 in 1961.

-Not one member of that 1997 Orioles team is still active in the major leagues. Two (Roberto Alomar and Cal Ripken, Jr.) have been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Two others (Danny Clyburn and Terry Mathews) are deceased.

-The Baltimore Ravens were kicking off their second season in Charm City, the final season of pro football at Memorial Stadium. Vinny Testaverde was the quarterback, Ted Marchibroda was the head coach, and they played in the now-defunct AFC Central Division along with the Tennessee Oilers.

-Here are a few items from the headlines: The deaths of Princess Diana and Mother Teresa, El Niňo, Mike Tyson biting off Evander Holyfield's ear, Steve Jobs' return to Apple Computers.

So yeah, that's what 15 years looks like in the rear view. Sure, the Orioles could still run off the rails; they are one of eight teams in a scrum for five playoff spots and their September schedule offers lots of stiff competition. But no matter what happens over the next four weeks, it's September 5 and the supposed doormats from Baltimore are tied with the Yankees atop the American League East, and both are tied with Oakland for the second-best record in the league. Nothing can take away the memory of this moment in time.

Jimmy Key, 1998 Upper Deck #35

If I had to guess, I'd say that Jimmy Key's groin tore in half at the exact moment that this photo was taken. Whatever the case may be, it sure doesn't look like he's comfortable.

Ozzie Guillen, 1998 Upper Deck #652

I was digging through a bin of 90's Orioles cards in a sports card shop last year when I saw this one. I grabbed it immediately. If any player has a card more symbolic of his time with the O's, I sure haven't seen it. The look on Ozzie's face seems to say, "Really? Are you sure I signed with the Orioles?" I'm sure he wasn't unhappy to be with the team, since they were coming off of back-to-back ALCS appearances. Sure, it was probably a shock to the system to be in any uniform other than the pinstripes of the White Sox; Ozzie had broken in with the Sox in 1985 and played his entire thirteen-year career to that point with his original team. But Ozzie Guillen just wasn't a good fit in Baltimore.

I couldn't tell you today what the Orioles' rationale was in bringing Ozzie to Camden Yards. They had already moved Cal Ripken, Jr. to third base, but Mike Bordick was installed at shortstop. I guess they figured it would be a nice luxury to have a former All-Star shortstop coming off the bench, but Ozzie was 34 years old and Bordick was in the middle of a five-year stretch in which he played at least 150 games each season. There was just no point to signing another veteran; new manager Ray Miller didn't seem to know what to do with him. A month into the 1998 season, Guillen had appeared in a dozen games, but had only 16 at-bats. Being accustomed to playing every day, he was clearly struggling to stay fresh (he had only one hit). So the Birds released him, and he lasted three more seasons in a part-time role in Atlanta and Tampa Bay.

So yes, the look in Ozzie's face says it all. From the various colorful statements and opinions that have spilled forth from his mouth since he became manager of the White Sox in 2004, it's probably best that we just let the picture do the talking.