All Baltimore Oriole fans know the name Ernie Tyler. The long-time umpires' attendant at Memorial Stadium and then at Camden Yards died last Thursday. His funeral is today. Ernie began as an usher in the Orioles' inaugural year of 1954 and became the umpires' attendant in 1960. He never missed a single game, working 3,819 straight until July of 2007 when he attended the Hall of Fame induction of Cal Ripken. He was there at Ripken's request, which says something about both men. It is estimated that Ernie rubbed up 350,000 baseballs during his tenure which lasted through this past season.
The Baltimore Sun's Mike Klingaman posted a touching obituary in which he quoted many former Orioles, but no quote touched me more than former Oriole catcher Andy Etchebarren's: Ernie was a wonderful man who will bypass everything and go straight to Heaven. I'm sure Ernie is already rubbing up baseballs for Dave McNally, Mike Cuellar, and Pat Dobson who are getting ready to pitch up there.
I knew that each of those 20 game winners that Etchebarren mentioned had died, but it stopped me short nevertheless. McNally, Cuellar, Dobson . . . Mark Belanger, Steve Barber, Curt Motton . . . Curt Blefary, Moe Drabowsky, Elrod Hendricks . . . At these moments baseball is less a restorative and more of an echo; the echo of a boy yelling himself hoarse for every one of those guys.
Of course, my first and greatest hero is still with us, but when a certain third baseman leaves this world, I hope that I am alone when I receive the news. I don't want anyone to see my crying like a child.
We baseball fans are pretty resilient, though. Upon such occasions, we take out our memories and sort through them and trade them like baseball cards, those little pieces of cardboard which show our heroes frozen in a moment, forever young. Slowly, but surely, that sudden sense of age and time recedes like the tide which we discover has not washed away the cleat marks of the ballplayers we adored.
When I was a boy, I thought that Ernie Tyler would always be on his little stool at the side of the backstop, that Chuck Thompson would always be in the broadcast booth, and that Brooks Robinson would always be at third. Luckily, there's place inside me where that's still true.
Rest in peace, Ernie.
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