The Baltimore Orioles are winning (and will be for a long while), and on this humid August afternoon in Maryland, it might as well be a crisp day in early spring. I am a 10-year-old boy again and I’ve thrown off my jacket and gone into the side yard to play catch with my older brother, Danny. After its three-decade-long death by a thousand cuts, The Oriole Way—that wondrous, bottom-up…