"Quite literally cinematic!" - Bob Costas

I'm Tom, your guest editor for the day. Sometimes I write about sports for Slate and other publications, some of which still haven't gone out of business. I used to write a sports column for City Paper in Baltimore. One time I got a piece in the Best American Sports Writing. Another time I got invited in by the late Syd Thrift for a stern talking-to his office in the Oriole Park warehouse. (You know that voice-and-motion-capture stuff they do to turn human actors into animated characters nowadays? Do that to a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon in reverse, and you'll get the irate Syd Thrift.)

My sports loyalties, which deform everything I write, are as follows: I root for the Baltimore Orioles, first and foremost and for my entire conscious life. My first home was a short walk from Memorial Stadium, and I was cheering for Mark Belanger and Lee May by the age of three. I remember Reggie Jackson showing up as the new guy when I was four and leaving when I was five. Bastard.

I also root for the University of Maryland men's basketball team, an ever-shifting collection of NBA teams that depends on where particular players are, the Philadelphia Eagles, and the Baltimore Colts.

(What? They where? Look, everyone handles childhood abandonment differently. I turn on my TV, I see a team with blue horseshoes on white helmets. The [inaudible] Colts! Fight on, you Colts!)

I despise the New York Yankees.

I also root against Duke men's basketball, Notre Dame football, the Washington [ethnic slur redacted], the Baltimore Ravens, Phil Jackson, the Dallas Cowboys, Rick Pitino, John Calipari, Bob Huggins, Tony La Russa, and Bob Knight. Now that I put it all down like that, maybe I should simplify things and say I root against anyone who has ever coached or managed a team. Except Earl Weaver and Buddy Ryan.

Last time I appeared here, I believe I was 1. ripping the Orioles for trading Erik Bedard for a raft of players including the unproven Adam Jones, 2. disparaging the Tampa Bay Rays, and 3. implying that the Orioles would continue their decade-plus string of failure, particularly their habit of quitting in the second half.

Well. Tampa has won a pennant and is admired throughout baseball for its talent. Erik Bedard has been a fixture of Seattle's disabled list. Adam Jones looks like he will be a superstar in center field and a heart-of-the-lineup slugger for years to come.

And the Orioles—with Jones and Nick Markakis anchoring an all-around delightful outfield, with a collection of thrilling young pitchers beginning to break into the majors, with the most highly regarded prospect in baseball behind the plate—are deep in last place, on an 11-22 second-half death spiral. Told you so.

This one-legged wonder featured in the photo above is 8-year-old Adam Bender, who has one leg (obviously) and, apparently, may still have a higher OPS than Richie Sexson will this year.

Losing his leg as a one-year-old to cancer, Bender's pretty much lived a normal life and plays baseball, soccer and football. He's a catcher on his baseball team, resting on his one good knee and then, as this photographic evidence proves, stands up at the plate, hits the ball, and hops down to first as quickly as possible.

At first, his parents were skeptical about his athletic desire and considered the consequences of letting their son participate in these activities. But, of course, his mom just shoved him out into the two-legged world, hoping to inject her son with a little mental toughness and character:

I thought his spirit might be crushed if he got out every time. Then I thought, who am I to micromanage his feelings? He's going to have to learn how to deal with this stuff.

Make sure you watch the video on the sidebar of the link, where you see Adam get a hit, slide into second, and get involved in a collision at home plate.

Kid Can Do It All On One Leg [Kentucky Herald-Leader]