When rockfish season opens April 18, anglers will likely be catching a number on their way to lay eggs in the Susquehanna, Choptank and other rivers, rather than on the way down after shedding their loads. That worries sportsmen.
Jim Mutscheller, the Colts' rugged tight end who made two big plays in overtime during the team¿s historic 1958 NFL championship victory, died Friday morning of kidney failure at St. Joseph¿s Hospital in Towson. The Lutherville resident was 85.
At 67, Will Hetzel writes poetry, speaks his liberal mind and revels in the psychedelic music of the late Richie Havens and The Jefferson Airplane. That he did the same in 1968, as a Maryland basketball star, caused quite a stir in College Park.
There are few anglers more revered than Frederick native Bernard "Lefty" Kreh. Kreh, who turned 90 last month, has fished for nearly 70 years with everyone from Ted Williams to Fidel Castro, and from President Jimmy Carter to Ernest Hemingway. Enshrined in numerous fishing Halls of Fame, he has been honored by the U.S. Postal Service, which issued a stamp commemorating a fly that Kreh made.
Terry Truax, the coach who led the Towson men's basketball program to both of its NCAA tournament appearances in 1990 and 1991, died Monday night at Fairfax (Va.) Hospital after suffering a stroke. A resident of Chantilly, Va., Truax was 70.
Even if the New England Patriots did steal some air from the football, the AFC championship wouldn't be the first game ever played with a deflated pigskin. Ninety years ago, in a hard-fought private school contest, Friends defeated Boys' Latin on a touchdown scored with a ball as flat as roadkill.
The giant spark plug in Johnny Egan's attic is nearly as big as he is. A gift from Bullets fans, the 4-foot trophy depicts the spunky guard's role on Baltimore's NBA team one-half century ago. Then, he'd come off the bench, time after time, to ignite the offense or fire up the defense.
For a decade, each autumn, Glenn Ressler's Sundays were much the same. The mid-mannered Colts guard would slip into the locker room, remove his glasses, put on his uniform and perform feats of strength. Players called him Clark Kent.
On Thursday, longtime coach Joe Brune is expected to don his blue-and-gold Loyola jacket — the one his players gave him 40 years ago — and root for his alma mater at M&T Bank Stadium at 10 a.m. in the 95th Calvert Hall-Loyola game.
For more than half a century, the Maryland State Athletic Hall of Fame shooed race horses from its door. But that changes Thursday night when the first thoroughbred is inducted, albeit posthumously, into the 234-member Hall.
Emerson Boozer played 10 years for the Jets, retiring in 1975 as the team's career rushing leader (5,135 yards). He also left with a Super Bowl ring, from New York's 16-7 upset win over the Colts for the 1968 championship.
Hall of Famer Leon Day's passion for baseball lives on in his widow. Geraldine Day attended "about a dozen" Orioles games this past season and watched the rest on television, even those on the West Coast.
The Brennans were among the first of a handful of special needs entrants to complete the Baltimore Marathon, many of them sponsored by Athletes Serving Athletes, a Cockeysville nonprofit that matches disabled athletes with race-day volunteers, or wingmen. One entrant, James Banks, bubbled over after finishing in 4:15:43.
Eddie Vega runs barefoot to drum up donations for a favorite cause. For nearly a year, Vega, an IT consultant from Raleigh, N.C., has run shoeless to bring attention to those in Third World countries who have no choice but to do the same.
For five years Tom Gilburg punted for the Colts, averaging 41.4 yards a boot before quitting in 1966 with a bum knee. Three times, he finished among the NFL's top 10 punters while doubling as a second-string offensive tackle.
Barry Goldmeier is a jogger who juggles - anything from footballs to baseball bats - while running. Or maybe he's a juggler who jogs. For short, folks call him The Joggler and, on Saturday, he'll strut his stuff in the Baltimore marathon.
Here's one man's scheme for running in Saturday's Baltimore marathon: strap an iPad to your back, show highlights of the Orioles' three world championships and hope other runners hang back to watch it.