According to the writeup, No blog covers local sports with as much wisdom. With a decidedly realistic/pessimistic perspective, it asks questions like, “What if the Orioles never win again?”

Check it out online here.

I have to say that I’m incredibly grateful. It was just earlier this year when I gave considerable thought to shutting things down, and even though I retooled my approach I still had days when I wondered if maybe this whole thing had just run its course.

Lately, though, I’ve been feeling reinvigorated and recognition like this tells me that it isn’t for naught. I dig that.

So thanks, Baltimore Magazine, and thanks to all of you who join me here. Commenters and non-commenters alike, daily visitors and occasional drop-ins. I owe ya one.

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”

– Andy Warhol

I don’t know if it’s the woeful underperformance of the Orioles, the changing of the seasons, or something deeper. Might be all three. Whatever it is, I’ve been thinking lately that it’s time — past time — for a change. That it’s either evolve or die.

What I mean is, I think The Loss Column has slipped into kind of a rut and I need to fix it. You might be wondering, “how?”

It’s time to return to the basics. This site was always supposed to be home for a wide-ranging discussion. The heavy focus on all things Birdland came naturally via evolution and I didn’t fight it. Now, however, it feels too restrictive. That and the number of sites where folks write about the Orioles has expanded dramatically in the four-plus years since TLC launched. I don’t have much interest in clamoring for prominence solely within that niche.

I want the site to continue to be a place to talk Orioles but I also want it to be something a bit more. So, starting today, we’re sailing into uncharted waters and seeing what we find.

This could mean more writing about music, food, liquor, art, Americana (vintage and non-vintage), culture, etc. It could mean more pictures of attractive ladies. It could mean more writing about other sports like I used to do. I don’t know for sure. All I know is, things will be different and better.

As part of that, I’d like to bring on a contributor or two. I have some folks in mind already but nothing’s set in stone. So if that’s the kind of thing that might interest you, drop me a line.

I also want to know something: what does your ideal Loss Column look like? What do you want to see more of? Less of? Do the kinds of changes I’m suggesting here make you more or less inclined to keep stopping by?

This place belongs as much to those of you who visit regularly as it does to me, so I want to make sure any changes are made with a nod toward respecting that relationship. It’s still my decision, of course, but if you’ve got feedback and ideas I’d love to hear them.

I’m feeling good about this. Excited. Join me, won’t you?

But, I’m OK with it. I actually dig the idea of a national holiday where we all — in theory at least — take a step back from the day-to-day and acknowledge the good things around us. Cliché or not, that’s a nice thing. We ought to do it more often.

With that in mind — and I did something similar to this last year — a few things in Baltimore sports for which I’m personally thankful:

Buck Showalter
Prior to Buck’s arrival we had to go back to Mike Hargrove to find the last Orioles manager with a proven Major League record. And, honestly, even Hargrove didn’t have a particularly great pedigree. Buck’s the first guy who can really claim “been there, done that” status since Davey Johnson. It’s been a long time coming.

Ed Reed and Ray Lewis
You all know that the Ravens aren’t my team but I’ll be damned if I’d ever deny the greatness of these two players. They’ve both authored Hall of Fame careers here in Baltimore and that’s pretty cool no matter where your particular rooting interests sit.

Gary Williams
There’s nobody else I’d rather have coaching my college basketball team of choice. He doesn’t always get the best guys but nobody else does as much with the guys he does get as Gary. On top of that, he runs a clean program. And he’s just fucking cool. This guy is a true treasure and we need to appreciate him while we can because he won’t coach forever.

Nick Markakis, Brian Roberts, Adam Jones, Brian Matusz, Matt Wieters
The Orioles are still building. Chances are we still have some tough times ahead. And yet, they have a lot of players who deserve our respect. These five stand at the top of my list. They’re not the only guys I like, but they’re the ones I’d pick if I had to make a “best of” list.

Our Local Media
From Roch Kubatko and the MASN team to the Orioles Insider folks at the Sun. From Camden Chat and the other bloggers to WNST and everyone in between. We don’t lack for voices. I don’t always dig on all of them, but it’s a pretty vibrant scene and that’s a nice thing to have.

The hope with a list like this, of course, is that you’ll add your own ideas in the comments. Or disagree with mine. Either way, we’re good.

Mostly, though, happy Thanksgiving to all of you. Here’s to good times.

I’ve been keeping tabs on this story from the beginning and I’m stoked that it’s finally coming to fruition. Part of the reason is because I’m an unabashed auto racing fan. More important than that is the fact that hosting an IndyCar race puts Baltimore in some pretty rarified air.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, the Indy Racing League (IRL) is America’s top-level open wheel series and roughly the third most important series worldwide. It’s not as popular as it once was (save for the Indy 500) but it’s still big. The drivers are world class by any measure and only Formula One — the top-level series worldwide — is more significant in terms of open wheel racing.

By landing this race Baltimore becomes just one of 17 cities to host an IRL event. As noted in the article linked above, that means an infusion of at least 100k spectators along with a significant, national television audience. This is a chance for Baltimore to shine, and if all goes well it could eventually reach a Preakness-type level of excitement and civic pride.

For comparison, consider Long Beach, CA. They host a street course race similar to what we’ll have next year and this article from the Long Beach Press-Telegram provides some insight into the benefits an event like this can provide. They drew 170k spectators for the three-day weekend and were “delighted” with the outcome. I think we’d probably use the same term with even half that number.

Beyond that, and almost as important, this is one hell of a cool event. Finely tuned race cars turning high-speed laps with Camden Yards and the Inner Harbor as a backdrop is something I want to see. Something I’m eager to experience.

So raise a glass to victory for Baltimore. August 2011 is a ways away but when it arrives we’ll get an opportunity to both have a lot of fun and also show the world that this is, in fact, a hell of a city.

Drill down far enough into the idea and there’s only one place to end up: John Prentiss “Johnny” Poe Jr., one of Baltimore’s most intriguing forgotten figures.

Johnny Poe was born here in February of 1874. His father, John Prentiss Poe Sr., spent time as Maryland’s Attorney General and was well-connected in Democratic political circles. Edgar Allan Poe was Johnny’s grandmother’s cousin. Indeed, the Poe family name was once one of the most prominent in Baltimore.

Johnny enrolled at Princeton (the Poe brothers — six in all — were Princeton men) in 1891, where he stepped in and stood out in a 34-0 victory by the Princeton Freshmen over a team called the Crescent Reserves. The New York Times described Poe as “the whole strength of the Freshman team, making several runs of forty and sixty yards and scoring three touch-downs, besides kicking all the goals.”

He joined the varsity team later that year and tied for third in touchdowns. What he had on the gridiron, however, he thoroughly lacked in the classroom. He flunked out of school in the spring.

He re-enrolled in the fall of 1892 and again excelled on the field. He played both quarterback and halfback, and this time finished tied for second on the team in touchdowns. Academics cost him again, however, as he flunked out a second time — that one for good.

By all accounts, Poe’s lone serious interest was battle. He regarded war as the grandest game of all, and participating in it was his singular ambition. He wouldn’t get there for several years, however, as he spent time as a miner, a cowboy, a football coach (at Navy and Virginia), and at a host of other odd jobs.

He joined the Maryland National Guard and went to Cuba in 1898 to fight in the Spanish-American War. He saw no action and left utterly disappointed by that fact. In 1899 he was with the Army in the Phillipines, and in 1903 with the Kentucky militia during the so-called “Black Patch War.” He again saw little action and he left, again, disappointed.

In 1907 he fought in the war between Nicaragua and Honduras. His original intent was to fight for Nicaragua, but when his boat was delayed he got off and became a Captain in the Honduran Army instead. On picking sides he supposedly once remarked that “they are both usually wrong, so it doesn’t make much difference which (side) one chooses.” He saw action in Honduras, but it didn’t last long. He eventually returned home and was once again adrift.

His life met his ambition in 1914 with the outbreak of World War I. Regarding it as a chance to finally see the action he had sought for so many years, he went to Canada and enlisted in the British Army.

He was assigned first to artillery, but saw that task as too far removed from the front lines. He had himself transferred into the elite Black Watch Regiment — known by the Germans as “Ladies From Hell” due to their kilts and their intensity.

According to one source, Poe was at some point offered a promotion but refused it, preferring instead to remain a Private. That move, along with his overall bravery, earned him deep respect among his comrades.

He met his end on September 25th, 1915. He was on an advance mission, carrying boxes of bombs, when he took a bullet to the stomach.

As he fell he said: “Never mind me, go ahead with our boxes.” By the time his fellow soldiers returned, he was dead. It’s said that he was buried on the battlefield in France, but his family members were never able to locate the grave.

In their obituary for Poe, the Times remarked that his football legacy was to be “spoken of with awe in football conversations on the Princeton campus.” The Princeton football field is named after him, as is the trophy awarded annually to Princeton’s best player.

To the extent that he is remembered in 2009 it is for his athletic greatness. One can see why, as the past forty years of American history have not been kind to men like Johnny Poe.

I see in his story something more. A curious kind of American heroism, imperfect but fully committed, born from a deep search for meaning. I like that, and I think I might have liked Johnny Poe.