September 6, 2012; Baltimore, MD, USA; (From left to right) Brooks Robinson, and Earl Weaver, and Eddie Murray and Jim Palmer attend the Orioles Legend ceremony honoring Cal Ripken prior to a game against the New York Yankees at Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Joy R. Absalon-USA TODAY Sports

In the summer of 1980, a 21-year-old intern at The Baltimore Sun was assigned to two Orioles games to tag along with the paper’s beat writer, Kent Baker, and get quotes from some players and help Baker do whatever was needed. One game was against the Boston Red Sox shortly before the All Star Break, the other against the Oakland A’s.

In both games, of course, the Baltimore Orioles’ manager was the late, great Earl Weaver.

Two key issues leading up to that year’s All Star Game were that Ken Singleton had not been voted to the team by the fans, and that the 38-year-old Tony Perez, now with the Red Sox after a 12 years with Cincinnati and three with Montreal, had been left off the team. One of my jobs was to go over to the visitors’ dugout and ask him how he felt about that. He wasn’t in that bad a mood, considering. He answered questions pretty amiably in his Cuban accent. I hesitated to ask certain things for fear of eliciting a temper, but there was no tantrum. Perez was a pro, and he probably knew, at 38, he wasn’t prime All-Star material anymore, even though a lot of aging or injured stars make the team with less credentials than he had.

When there wasn’t much more to find out other than the obvious, I went back to the Orioles’ bench, just in time to see Singleton come in and almost slam his bat into the bat rack. The other writers also saw this and asked Weaver about Singleton’s omission by the fans. For the record, the American League’s All Star outfielders that year were Reggie Jackson, Fred Lynn and Ben Oglivie. One of the reserves was Baltimore’s Al Bumbry, but the 33-year-old Singleton hadn’t made it, after having finished second in the MVP race a year before with 35 home runs, 111 RBI, and a .295 average.

But the other writers interviewed Singleton later in the process. Baker left me in the dugout with instructions to ask Weaver about the American League’s pitching staff. So there I was, sitting next to the Earl of Baltimore, introducing myself and asking him how the All Star starting pitcher is decided.

“The starting pitcher is decided by the manager,” is what he said, or very close to it, with a finality combined with an unwillingness to be any more generous with his thoughts. Weaver would be the AL’s All-Star skipper that year, having led the O’s to the pennant in ’79.

I was either too frozen or too intimidated to think, but something kept me from asking a follow-up, which would have been who the candidates are, who you’re leaning toward, and why. He sensed a newness about me, and as most managers do with a new writer, he tested me, giving a minimal answer and seeing what else I’d say. Which wasn’t much.

Covering the game against the A’s, I tagged along as the other beat writers interviewed Billy Martin in his office in the visiting clubhouse in Memorial Stadium. He just happened to be having a quintessential Billy Martin day that day, irascible and quotable after getting in trouble with the league office for standing partly out of the dugout while arguing a call in a recent game. The specifics escape me.

At any rate, after we all interviewed Martin and the A’s’ P.R. man, Baker went back up to the press box and needed me to follow Weaver back into his office to ask one other piece of information for a notes story he had to file before the game started.

So there I am, back in the Oriole clubhouse, and when Earl comes in, I stop him on his way to his office. He had someone with him, but I approached anyway.

“Got a minute, Earl?”

“I’m busy.”

“I just need this one other thing …”

“I’m busy, Steve.” And he kept going.

Valuing my life, I didn’t press any further, but the hard part was telling Baker I hadn’t found anything out when I got back up to the press box.

The National League won the All Star Game, 4-2, at Dodger Stadium, even though the Orioles’ Steve Stone – the eventual answer to the question I asked Weaver – threw three perfect innings in a starting performance. He would go on to finish 25-7 and win the Cy Young Award in what was considered something of a fluke, which is being generous. Try major fluke. He was one of several pitchers during the Weaver era who hadn’t set the world on fire up to that point in their careers, but who had a magical year with the Orioles’ Gold Glove infield, not to mention potent lineup, playing behind them.

The Orioles went 100-62 in 1980, the fourth year Weaver’s Orioles won 100 or more games, but finished second to the Yankees , and, this being the pre-wild card days, missed the playoffs (speaking of flukes). The wild card was instituted in 1994, when the major leagues went from two divisions to three per league.

All these things came back to mind in the aftermath of Weaver’s passing late Friday night. He’d suffered a heart attack while on a cruise, the one he took every winter with his wife and some former players. I heard about it standing in line to get into FanFest, and the Orioles devoted the opening of the day’s festivities to a video remembrance of him.

Almost without exception, his players hated him, or hated the way he treated most of them, but loved the way they won so often. If you were a self-motivator beyond reproach in the way you played and had a long track record of excellence, such as Brooks or Frank Robinson, Boog Powell, Singleton, Eddie Murray, or Cal Ripken, Jr. (whom Earl only had for three and a half years before retiring for good in 1986), you rarely had a problem. In various interviews during his advancing years, Weaver said, “I don’t think I said 30 words to Frank Robinson in the entire time I managed him.”

Obviously this line of reasoning didn’t seem to apply to Jim Palmer, who was excellent over many years and self-motivated, but whose feuds with the little general remained the stuff of legend right up to the present. If I thought Weaver was terse in my brief contact with him as an intern, that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Even if the umpires won’t miss him, Baltimore will.

FanFest drew over 18,500, more than double last year’s attendance. Pitchers and catchers report to Sarasota Feb. 12.

Follow @stvkatz on twitter for all breaking Orioles’ news, in-game updates, and analysis. You can also follow the Orioles by liking our Birds Watcher Facebook page.

Granted Bobby Cox holds the MLB record for career ejections at 158. However Cox achieved that number over 26+ years in the dugout; it only took Weaver 16+ years to get to 98. (It’s also worth mentioning that Weaver was run out of seven postseason games as well.) However Cox’s ejections didn’t have anywhere near the amount of flavor that Weaver’s did. I suspect that anyone who “got run” out of that many games today might have to start working another job in the off season to pay off his fines.

As a former basketball coach who was ejected from a youth game in 1999, I respect a coach’s right to voice his displeasure with bad officiating. However in most sports we don’t see coaches being ejected (or disciplined) as often as the likes of Earl Weaver, Bobby Knight, Billy Martin, et al. (Ironically, Baltimore’s football coach, John Harbaugh, has collected a couple of unsportsmanlike conduct penalties for barking at officials.) The likes of a character like Earl Weaver eventually might be run out of the game today because he wouldn’t be able to survive the numerous suspensions he’d receive. I feel like these days most managers might get ejected 2-3 times a year. Weaver averaged 6 + ejections each season.

I suppose what I’m saying is that while baseball definitely celebrates the fire of a guy like Earl Weaver, it seems that kind of attitude is also frowned upon by today’s standards. In fairness, I don’t think baseball would tolerate some of the antics that umpires would pull with Weaver either. We’ve all seen the video of Weaver’s tirade against umpire Bill Haller; Weaver was fairly disprespectful, but Haller gave as good as he received. In another famous incident after Weaver threw his cap on the field during a tirade umpire Don Denkinger walked over to the hat and rubbed it into the dirt with his feet.

However there’s more to this than just Weaver’s demeanor towards umpires. Earl Weaver was a pretty hard-nosed type of guy in general. Birds Watcher staff writer Randy Buchman shared a story on Saturday about former Oriole Pat Kelly telling Weaver that he was “walking with God.” Weaver’s response was that he’d rather him walk with the bases loaded. Former players such as Jim Palmer and Rick Dempsey have all said things to the effect that they loved playing for Weaver, but they couldn’t stand him. Granted all of these types of comments are often made in a roasting type of manner in that they had a genuine respect and love for the man. However again, ask yourself if that kind of thing would fly today…?

As much as it might not sound like it, I’m not being critical of Earl Weaver. Believe me, I think the guy was one of the greatest managers ever. That goes for how he handled players, umpires, the press, etc. And I suppose that what I’m arguing is that it’s almost sad that we’ll never see someone like Earl Weaver (or Billy Martin, Bobby Cox, etc) come along again. As I said above, I think that managers’ actions with regard to umpires are much more scrutinized now. I also think that it’s a different time in that the hard-nosedness for which Weaver was noted is frowned upon now.

Courtesy of Joy R. Absalon-USA TODAY Sports

Again, it’s with a heavy heart that I say these things. Sports has always been a haven where the toughest of the tough are the ones that survive. This is not to say that sports figures who take a lighter view of things aren’t any good…see Buck Showalter as exhibit one. I may well be doing a poor job of describing my ideas here, however I suppose my point is that someone like Earl Weaver would probably be run out of a franchise in this day and age. Furthermore, the players of today are conditioned a bit more to expect more tolerance from their leaders  than what Weaver was able to provide. In an age of free agency, would players shy away from coming to Baltimore? Perhaps more importantly, would current Oriole players who are up for contracts decide to take their services elsewhere?

Let me unequivocally state that I feel Orioles fans should be indebted to Earl Weaver for what he did for the franchise and for the community. I honestly think that it’s a sad commentary that things have changed to where people of his ilk might not be welcome in sports any longer. The fact is that there will never be another one like the great Earl of Baltimore.

Before this goes any further, my deepest of condolences go out to all who knew and loved Earl. It has to be a tough pill to swallow for his children, grandchildren, etc., to know that he was so far away from home when he passed away. Having said that, I won’t bore anyone with stats such as his 97 ejections (still an American League record). Everyone knows who Earl Weaver was in Birdland and beyond. Even non-Orioles fans know this, as the guy isn’t in the Hall of Fame for nothing. However in losing someone like Weaver, a piece of the Orioles’ community passes on as well.

Courtesy of Joy R. Absalon-USA TODAY Sports

Earl Weaver was the architect of the greatest era in franchise history. However perhaps more importantly, his demeanor and stature seemed to symbolize the relentless attitude of the old blue collar town in which he managed. I’ve always seen Baltimore as the little guy who’s forced to fight with one hand tied behind his back for no apparent reason. That’s “the Earl of Baltimore.” He was the ultimate of characters in a game noted for it’s characters. Yet if you put him in a room with the likes of contemporaries of his time, they’ll probably find a way to say that he doesn’t belong. If you put the city of Baltimore in a room with Washington DC, New York, Chicago, Boston, and LA, those cities would probably find a way to argue that Baltimore doesn’t belong. It was a match made in heaven from the beginning.

At 32, I have vague memories of Weaver’s second stint with the Orioles in the mid-1980′s. At that time of course, he was already a legend of the game and it didn’t take a genius to know that he probably wouldn’t be around for long. I remember having a conversation with one of my cousins just prior to the post season last year, and she told me that she felt that the Orioles’ return to glory was bringing “old Baltimore” back in a way. I can’t really put my finger on what “old Baltimore” is (as opposed to “new Baltimore”), but I know exactly what she meant. Earl Weaver was part of “old Baltimore,” not just because he came and won a lot of baseball games, but because of the way he symbolized the community.

It was poetic justice that the Orioles unveiled the six sculptures to Oriole Hall of Famers last season, one of which of course was Weaver. In the end, it provided a bit of a farewell tour or sorts for Weaver and the fans. However perhaps more importantly, the true poetic justice was that he got to see the organization he loved so much return to it’s rightful place as a winning team. With that said, it’s also worth mentioning that what the Orioles did last year is thought of throughout the baseball community as a fluke. Most people assume that this was a franchise that just got lucky and struck gold for one season. In his heyday, that would put Earl in a feisty mood that would fire him and everyone around him up.

I could go on and on, but then this article would end up being as long as one of Weaver’s legendary arguments with umpires. However the fact is that Baltimore and the entire baseball community lost one of it’s best ambassadors in Earl Weaver. As if that wasn’t enough, St. Louis Cardinals’ great Stan Musial died yesterday as well. They’re fielding one heck of a team up there! Once again, I offer my most sincere of condolences to the Weaver family. Those are the people who know and will miss the real Earl Weaver. However the baseball community knew and loved “the Earl of Baltimore.” And he’ll be missed terribly. I suppose it goes without saying that the Orioles will have some sort of tribute on their uniforms all season in 2013, as is the custom throughout sports in these situations. However the greatest tribute that the 2013 Orioles could pay to “the Earl of Baltimore” would be to win. Therefore with this tweet yesterday, I sent out what I thought the theme of 2013 should be for the O’s: #Win4Earl. Rest in peace Mr. Weaver; you’ll be missed.