Pushing through racks marked "H.M.S. Pinafore" and "Beauty and the Beast," winding through corridors of crates labeled "Flying Monkeys," and "Tin-man Parts," he comes to stacks and racks of mascot heads back in a dusty corner. "A guy came in and asked if we could build an oriole bird," Goebel says, tantalizingly. "He's got to look friendly-and tough. Cocky, but not mean." And there on a nearly forgotten shelf, covered in old Baltimore dust and a cloud of Orioles magic, sits a familiar face: the plaster cast of the original Bird. In front of it, a disintegrating foam beak, and the metal frame of the bird's first head. Gazing up, Goebel's snow-white beard frames a broad, bright smile.