I, myself, was actually compensated partly in Esskay Orioles Franks (two each game) when I worked for the Orioles as a teenager in the late 1980s, handing out giveaways during O’s games. As an expat now living in Connecticut, I have faced the unenviable challenge of raising my children (ages 9 and 11) as stalwart Orioles fans in a sea of Yankee and Red Sox rabble. Esskay Orioles Franks have been a badge of honor in our secret rebellion. Visits to Maryland often included smuggling a couple packages of our favorite hot dogs past the Mason Dixon line to tide us over until our next trip back home. As they have done for decades, Esskay Orioles Franks continue to link us together, even across generational and state lines.