This past weekend was my first time at Camden Yards- and I was able to take in both Saturday's 11-5 beating and Sunday's 3-2 Beckett gem. Camden is a beautiful ballpark- with the Fenway-esque Eutaw Street along outside right field, and the restored warehouse, and the yard out behind the tiered bullpens. And the Oriole bird- come on, he's cute.

I don't remember much about Saturday's game- thanks to the unlimited free beer before the game started- which is probably for the best. I do remember that during the seventh inning stretch, they started playing out our favorite "Sweet Caroline" over the park's PA... and then there was a horrific sound of a needle scratching across a record as the song came to a halt. Then they launched into their regular "Thank God I'm A Country Boy" song (which, I don't get at all- what does John Denver or "country" have to do with Baltimore?). Openly taunting the opposing team's fans? Cruel.

And then came Sunday.

I was lucky enough to be down right behind the Orioles' batter's circle, so I had a great view of Josh at work, and into the Sox dugout.

Josh was his normal methodical, measured self- well, at least, the self he's put on display recently. He doesn't really do funny pitching routines, odd windup mechanics, or ritualistic superstititions that I can see, other than: (1) raising his arms over his head before the pitch, to get his jersey to settle down on his body so it's comfortable the way he likes, (2) his chewing, which gets more furious and jaw-clenching at times, and (3) when exiting the dugout and walking to the mound, he never steps on the baseline- he always takes a little leaping hop over the chalk. I find that so endearing, because he shuts himself down to an almost blank slate of all-business when he's on the mound- but he looks like a little kid playing jackrabbit when he bounds over the line.

This is the same Josh I saw in Boston against the Angels, and the same Josh I saw for 80% of the time here in Chicago against the White Sox -- the Josh I saw in New York against the Yankees was nowhere around. There were no displays of emotion on the mound- just that patented Beckett casual stance and insouciant stare (you know, the one that's a cross between a smirk and a yawn), which totally screams, "I almost can't be bothered to strike you out. Give me a reason why I should even waste my time, you chump. I'm just gonna go ahead and strike you out just so I don't have to look at you anymore."

The most emotion I saw from Josh on the diamond was him slowly but deliberately pounding the ball repeatedly into his glove as he stared down at the mound in the 7th-- and, once, a kick to the dirt on the mound that raised up a small cloud of dirt and dust. There was also a dugout flare-up after he gave up the second homerun in the 6th: he slammed his hat onto the back wall behind the bench and yelled out something that looked an awful lot like, "Goddamned motherfucking pitch!" He did, however, get a tiny grin on his face after Varitek caught Hernandez stealing in the 5th, and he pointed to Tek and gave him an actual thumbs up. Battery love!

And, of course, the best part of the Josh's game- drilling the O's catcher Hernandez in the 7th. I knew that would happen- and bet my friends 20 bucks before the game ever even started that Beckett would drill someone in the 6th or 7th, and I bet an additional 10 bucks on top of that that he would drill Hernandez. That was payback for Friday, beotch. And since Cabrera wasn't coming up to the plate anytime soon, Hernandez was the next best thing. Don't mouth off to our dugout, and you won't get smacked around.

Papelbon coming in the ninth was absolutely electric- and I don't throw around that description lightly. As soon as the bullpen wall door opened out in center field, the entire crowd (minus the 10 or 12 Orioles fans) stood up and gave him a standing O, cheering and screaming like there was no tomorrow. And he went right to work, a popup to short, and then... a basehit by Mora. Papyboo looked almost as taken aback as the Sox fans were- probably because he hadn't had a hit off of him for weeks. He brushed off that tiny bump in the road right quick, and got down to dirty business- striking out the next two batters in short order and notching up the S. He was NASTY, in all the right ways.

More thoughts- and photos!- after the jump.

I took the Camden Yards ballpark tour on Saturday afternoon, and it seems they've got the guys who are needing some help at the plate out there taking extra BP. I saw Hinske, Cash, Moss and Kielty out taking some swings at about 2pm- hours before the rest of the team showed up for normal BP. I also saw Coach Farrell working out some really young kid (16, maybe?) out in the bullpen while those guys were finishing up BP. Future prospect, perhaps? ALSO: nice ink, Brandon.

Bryan Corey and Stickbug hanging out in the dugout during the first inning. I just adore that lil' stickbug.

Stretchy Coco.

Double rookie stretch!

Guthrie had a pretty danged solid outing until the injury forced a replacement. He also has a pretty release.

Of course, no one has as pretty of a release as Josh. I may be biased on this, though.

People give Dusty P a hard time about being small- Brian Roberts is no taller than Dusty.

Sly little look over his shoulder at the runner on first. A little grainy, I know- but I love the look on his face.

The delivery.

Conference on the mound- with special appearance by the Tongue of Intense Concentration.

Mike is looking up at Josh with the strangest look on his face.

It was ungodly hot out on Sunday- horrifically hot. So after the first inning Josh came into the dugout and put the jacket on his shoulder to keep his arm warm... and took it off 2 minutes later (and never put it on again). I think he figured it was so freakin' hot, his arm was going to stay warm just fine without any help needed.

Towel head!

Josh's post towel wild hair. Also, he looks like he's mid-giggle here.

J.D. Drew. On base. I took a picture because I wasn't sure people would believe me.

The Tongue of Intense Concentration, again.

You're about to get drilled, buddy.

The tiered bullpens out in center field. Why is Stickbug the only one who can't find a cap to fit him properly? Seriously- doesn't it look like that ballcap is swallowing his head whole?

One-sleeved boy wonder on first base. Love the eyeblack.

Awww- how cute. She's still young enough to retain faith in the O's!

Josh looks like he's pondering life's great questions here.
Who am I?
What's the meaning of life?
What the hell kind of facial hair is that on Youk's chin?
How long before Tavarez murders a hobo with a spork?
Why does Jacoby only wear one sleeve?
Why hasn't anyone picked me as the sexiest pitcher on Friendly's Scoop?
How can someone with the last name Lowell be from Puerto Rico?
How do you spell "emphaticully" anyway?
What's the difference between Mississippi and Louisiana?
Seriously, what IS Manny's deal?

Guthrie, re-enacting the "Slider, you stink" scene from Top Gun.

The sight of Papelbon and Tavarez hugging out in the bullpen is simultaneously the cutest and most frightening thing I've ever seen.

I'm pretty positive I had those same sunglasses in the eighth grade.

Jamie Walker has one of the funniest looking releases around. Also, when Guthrie (a righty) got pulled for injury, he was up on Varitek (hitting left) 2-2 at the plate. So when Walker (a lefty) came in, Varitek literally turned around in the batter's box to go from the right... and drew a walk. The not-so-knowledgeable folks behind me freaked out when Tek moved, wondering if he forgot which way he batted.

Josh, just after landing from his baseline jump over the chalk.

After he finished the seventh, and back in the dugout, Josh walked up to Wakefield standing at the rail, and just sort of laid his head down next to Wake to (presumably) talk over his pitches. Like he was just so worn out, he couldn't hold his head up anymore, and just wanted to lay it down close to Wake.

Okey giving his own version of the stare.

Markakis- working the no-hair buzzed look.

KingOfPap has entered the building.

When Papelbon got out to the mound for his standard Tek meeting, he literally put his face right up against the wire of Tek's facemask and peered in at him while Tek talked. INTENSITY.

After Papyboo got his first two outs, I took this picture of the scoreboard, and then a series of pictures of Papelbon's final strike throw to get the final K out of the game. Here are those shots, in order:

Dang my inability to keep the lens focused, but I had to include this one of him hollering.