I was really into superheroes as a kid. Who wasn’t? There were so many to choose from: Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, even the Power Rangers. These were people who seemed — and sometimes even were — normal, until they donned their utility belt, helmet, suit or mask and prepared to kick evil’s ass.

I liked superheroes because they did the impossible: No villain was too tough to conquer, no evil too great to overcome. People enjoy thinking a certain masked someone will always be there to save the day when they can’t.

As I grew up, though, my image of a hero started to change. Superman and Batman were still awesome, but suddenly a cool suit, a badass ride or even superpowers didn’t seem quite so necessary.

For example, I went to a Baltimore Orioles game last week not expecting to find any heroes. After all, the team can’t even get anybody to save the game.

I was wrong.

First of all, I sat about six inches away from Michael Phelps. Say what you will about his brief lapses in judgment, but he is quite possibly the greatest Olympic athlete who has ever competed. He is an American sports hero: He represented our country on the world stage and came away with an unprecedented 14 gold medals in an age when international respect is a hard-won commodity.

Then, in opening ceremonies before the game, two men were brought onto the field. It was announced that they had each served six tours in Iraq, heroism in itself. But the everyone in the stadium rose to their feet when they saw that one man had lost one of his legs, the other both. Both soldiers, who still compete in marathons and triathlons, saluted the crowd before leaving the field in a hail of cheers.

My brother then told me a story that gave me chills. Last year, a young girl with cancer gave a bracelet to New York Yankees’ outfielder Brett Gardner, whom she met during a hospital visit. She told him that it was magic and would make him hit a home run that night. Gardner, who had a grand total of one homer in his major league career, doubtfully promised her that he would try. Not even scheduled to play, he entered the game in the fourth inning after another player’s ejection. In potentially his last at-bat of the game, he stepped up to the plate and crushed a ball into the left field corner. Flying around the bases, he ignored the incoming throw and barely slid into home for the first inside-the-park home run by a Yankee in more than 10 years. He said later, “I’m glad that I could do that for her. I hope she was watching.” He let a sick girl believe in magic.

Inner-city elementary schoolers who were able to attend the Orioles game thanks to a sponsorship from one of the players and Little Leaguers who got to parade around the field and shake hands with all the players found heroes in the most ordinary of circumstances.

Every day we come into contact with heroes who don’t need gadgets or sidekicks to change the world. With all the comic book superheroes and Hollywood creations, it has become too easy to forget that.

I still think that no villain is too tough to conquer and no evil is too great to overcome. But now it’s ordinary people who make me believe that.

Bethany Offutt is a sophomore criminology and criminal justice and psychology major. She can be reached at offutt at umdbk dot com.