For non-contenders, fall baseball has a sort of 'Irish wake' feeling about it as intimate gatherings acknowledge the passing of another season. Veterans play out the string, perhaps savoring what might be their last time as an active major-league player...

while no-name kids and never-will-bes thrill to a singular visit to the big leagues - perhaps a harbinger of things to come, perhaps a moment's glimpse into a world in which their time will be fleeting.

Fall baseball shows us things we never thought we'd see...Carl Pavano, for instance. Or a journeyman who hasn't been on the radar of even the most zealous fan leaving the game to a standing ovation...

The shadows are long in September,

And for a losing team, the positive moments may be few.

But there is hope. There's always hope.

And when the shadows slip into darkness, the stars are brighter than ever.

Eventually, though, it's just - over. And there's nothing to do but go home.

Still, after a long season, the most important part of the games still remains - the fellowship, the memories, and the friends.

In 2008, The Orioles featured video board interviews with off-field personnel, including ushers and vendors. Luckily for me, a vendor named Howard who had worked O's games since the eighties was the subject on my doubleheader night. Howard urged the fans to look around. "The game on the field is one thing," he said, "but what really brings me back season after season is the people. How many opportunities do we have to gather together and spend a few hours in community? The next time you go to any ballgame, don't just watch the game. Look around at the people, the young, the old, the families, the kids on dates, the baseball nuts. Be part of them, be part of the experience. That's what it's all about to me. Win or lose, big crowd or small, doesn't matter. We're all here, in one place, one moment. Enjoy it. Savor it. It's hard to beat."

I can't say it better than that.

It's been an interesting year with a really tough finish. Those of you who hung in there with us (some of you not just for this time around, but for years and years), have made it all worthwhile. I haven't gone to the ballpark as often in recent years, especially after moving farther away and marrying a 'neutral-at-best' baseball wife. But ,despite the twin losses, my doubleheader experience and Howard's words brought me to a place I hadn't been to in quite awhile.

My dad-in-law gave up his Redskins tickets this year; I used them an average of 3-4 times a season, but I don't think I'll miss going to the games much, if at all. I haven't been to a pro hockey or basketball game in over a dozen years.

But baseball? I don't think I'll ever give it up. Or the Orioles. As frustrating and numbing as all the losing becomes, they are still my team. Camden Yards is still my place. And baseball is still my game. I'll be attending more games in 2009. Hopefully a lot more, in Frederick, Bowie, Oriole Park.

Thanks for being a big part of my 2008 baseball experience, and I look forward to many conversations over the post-season, the hot stove, and Spring Training 2009. Take care, be safe, and , as Peter Pan once said, 'think lovely thoughts.'

"Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December

But the days grow short when you reach September.

When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame

One hasn't got time for the waiting game.

Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few

September, November...

And these few precious days, I'll spend with you

These precious days, I'll spend with you."