When Eddie Watt, Boog Powell and Jim Palmer took the field on Friday night, it took me back to a time when I needed to run home from high school to catch the first-inning home runs by Brooks and Frank Robinson because World Series games were played during the day.

It took me back to the first Orioles team I loved, primarily because of Frank.

It took me back to a bet I made with a man my dad and I met in a diner that the Orioles would not only win the 1966 World Series against Sandy Koufax, Don Drysdale and the Dodgers, but that they would win in four straight. The hot chocolate was delicious.

It took me back to when I could recite the Orioles’  lineup because it was so consistent.

It took me back to when baseball was a better game, and the Orioles were a better team.

It was the Orioles’ first world championship. They would win their second in 1970 against the Reds. They also would lose to the Mets in 1969, the most devastating finish, and the Pirates in 1971, also disappointing, even though it marked four World Series appearances and two titles in six years.

Many of those who watched three old men take the field on Friday night didn’t know just how dominant the Orioles were back then, and how much they spoiled a fanbase that didn’t realize just how good they had it. The players did, although Powell initially didn’t like trading starting pitcher Milt Pappas to the Reds for 30-year-old Frank Robinson. Powell changed his mind when he saw Robinson take batting practice for the first time.

In an interview on MASN, Powell talked about how close the players, and their families, were. How they partied together. And how they knew how to play the game: The Oriole Way.

It meant something, just as those players meant something to me.

On Friday, I was hoping the ceremony might inspire the current Orioles, just as I thought that Colton Cowser’s fabulous, game-ending and game-winning catch on Monday would spark a run.

It has been followed by six consecutive losses, including two shutouts and one run in their last 27 innings. Instead of rising to the occasion after Cowser’s catch that put them at .500 for the first time in four months, they shrunk out of contention for a wild-card berth.

They also faced a former teammate, catcher Adley Rutschman, who was the first building block for president of baseball operations Mike Elias. It looked strange all weekend, especially watching Rutschman pace the Red Sox in the first of four games with two home runs.

It also was a reality check watching Watt, Powell and Palmer, whose looks defy his 80 years, take the field on Friday. It didn’t occur to me back then, but Palmer was only 5 years older than me when he shut out the Dodgers in Game 2, the last game pitched by Koufax.

Sixty years later, I still remember where I was for every game — the last at my dad’s mother’s house, being allowed to leave the Sunday dinner table early to watch the Orioles complete their sweep and for Brooks Robinson to jump higher than he ever did in his life as he headed toward pitcher Dave McNally and catcher Andy Etchebarren.

“Would You Believe It? Four Straight!” read The Sun’s headline. I believe I was fortunate to see it through the lens of a 15-year-old who idolized that team. And I believe I’m still fortunate to follow a team that plays a game I love, even though it is ruled more by analytics than starting pitchers and even though that everyday lineup is no longer used.

But on Friday, it was back for a short but sweet amount of time. And I was back in my living room, out of breath but able to shout when Brooks and Frank went back-to-back to put the Orioles on their path to glory. Remembering a feeling that still exists 60 years later.