ORLEANS — George Hoskey has a low, gravelly voice that draws strength from his diaphragm. If he pulls it taut, he can release a piercing squawk. A friend once measured him at 106 decibels — louder than a subway train — and he swears that he can hit 110.

“See how quiet it is?” he asks, gesturing toward Eldredge Park. “Can you imagine it being quieter?” It is the third inning of a close contest between the Orleans Firebirds and the Bourne Braves. As fans recline on the grassy slope behind first base, Hoskey bobs his feathered head in the parking lot.

There is no warning before he bellows, “Feel the breeze!” Part command, part exultation, it is an expression of wild joy from a man who has been the Firebirds’ unofficial mascot since 1998.

Former Firebirds Assistant General Manager Ron Conte met Hoskey at a girls soccer game in 1998. Hoskey was the best referee that he had ever seen, so Conte asked whether he wanted to get involved with the Cape Cod League.

“He got all excited about it, and then he had this idea about becoming Mr. Cardinal,” says Conte, referring to the team’s name from 1913 to 2009. “It was his idea, but I was the one who set it all up.”

“He’s not an official mascot of the Firebirds,” says team president Bob O’Donnell. “We would have the mascot not talking and not making loud noises. You hear George, right? You know any other mascot who talks and yells?

“But he’s an interesting person and he’s a nice guy,” O’Donnell adds.

For the first five years, Hoskey roamed Eldredge Park in long johns and homemade felt wings. When local donors funded a new costume, he was measured at the Academy Playhouse in Orleans for a custom headpiece with bulging eyes, a soft yellow beak, and red tufts flowing from his neck and shoulders. He says he is most uncomfortable when it rains.

“Tonight’s a three-pounder,” he says, squinting at the sky. “I’ll probably lose three pounds of water weight.”

Hoskey spends most of the year teaching history at a public high school in Prince George’s County, Md. Raised in central New York, he graduated from SUNY Potsdam in 1995 with a degree in education. He taught in Brewster and Eastham before moving in 2005 to Maryland, where he announces many of his school’s basketball, football, and playoff soccer games. Few students know about his avian alter ego on Cape Cod.

“Baseball is not a big sport at school,” he says. “And I’m not just going to tell you. You’ve gotta come and see, you know?”

Fans approach him every few minutes during the Tuesday night game. Smiling shyly, they ask whether it’s hot in his costume. (“Not too bad.”) They take pictures of him posing with their grandchildren. (“Of course — go Birds!”) And if they are under six, they wonder aloud if he lives in a big red house with other creatures.

“Why are you so loud?” asks one little boy, getting straight to the point. “To help you!” he replies.

“And why do you have yellow shoes?”

“Because it’s part of the costume!”

“And why do you have that on your head?” a young girl chimes in. “The yellow thing.”

“Because birds have beaks — that’s how we eat and talk!”

Before long, Hoskey says goodbye to these curious children and wanders toward the outfield. His wife, “Mrs. Firebird,” sits in the shade with a water cooler, and his son, Isaac, interns for the team. For the past few years, they have hosted Firebirds in their Eastham home, and they will do so again this summer.

Every player gets a nickname. Third baseman Alejandro Garza is “Prime” because his number is 17. Pitcher Truman Pauley is “Capote,” after the author of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Outfielder Michael Crossland is “Hammer,” a subtle play on the rapper M.C. Hammer. And all opposing pitchers are “chum in the water,” “fish bait,” or “nibblers” when the Firebirds are on base.

“I don’t know how he doesn’t lose his voice, because it’s like a foghorn when he hits the high notes,” Conte says. “He bellows these things out — and, well, some people get mad at him. They want to get rid of him.”

Hoskey admits that he ruffled some feathers when he wore his Firebirds costume to a Chatham Anglers game.

“They were like, ‘Hey, you’re showing up our team,’ ” he says. A letter to Firebirds General Manager Sue Horton followed, according to Hoskey, and it stipulated that “Mr. Firebird can’t go to any more away games.”

Hoskey still attends home games with his beak held high. When an older woman turns from her chair on Tuesday and says, “Please don’t yell,” he moves to another place on the grass. Then he spots a policeman.

“Officer, I can’t get arrested for yelling, can I?” he asks.

The answer is no, and he squawks on.