Orioles Making a Constructive Effort

By Thomas Boswell
Tuesday, April 1, 2008

BALTIMORE

An hour before the first pitch of Opening Day at Oriole Park, there was little traffic outside the majestic yard and parking was plentiful. In the first inning of Baltimore's 6-2 loss to Tampa Bay, the stands were little more than two-thirds full. Worst of all, towering far above the left field grandstand were two recently built civic monstrosities -- a 25-story apartment building and a 30-story hotel -- both lording their eyesore selves over previously perfect Camden Yards.

"Zenith Apartments 4 Lease" was spelled out on the windows of one. Nadir Apartments would be more appropriate. The Hilton Convention Center Hotel next door, when finished, may merely be ugly. However, in its current state, with huge random splotches of yellow, white and blue, it's like a cruel cubist joke. Forever, it will dominate the horizon and block views of the amusing and adored Bromo Seltzer Tower.

So, the Orioles, who have traded Miguel Tejada and Erik Bedard, who just released Jay Gibbons and who may soon trade Brian Roberts, began their season as expected -- in the utter misery of a complete rebuilding program. In the stands, some fans still wore last season's protest shirts: "Free the Birds." When designated hitter Aubrey Huff, who denigrated Baltimore on an offseason radio show, came to the plate in the first inning, he was loudly booed.

In other words, the contrast between the Orioles' afternoon opener and the Washington Nationals' electrifying inauguration of their park the night before, seemed to be symbols of franchises going their opposite ways at warp speed.

Sometimes, however, things aren't exactly what they first seem. By the third inning, the casual late-arriving crowd, announced at 46,807 and certainly satisfactory for a franchise with 10 straight losing seasons, had filled most of the park. If you walked among the relaxed fans you realized many were milling at concession stands, socializing, ignoring the game, yet dutifully wearing O's gear.

As bad as the Orioles may be this season, and 100 losses is a popular prediction, the love of Baltimore baseball runs so deep here that it is virtually impossible to extinguish. And, heaven knows, the team's owner, who bleeds Bal'mer, has tried to still that beating heart.

Anybody who wants to jump up and down on Peter Angelos, and pummel him with Washington's pride in its new park, now has an unfettered opportunity. Interviewing fans for two days at Nationals Park, I heard variations on the same taunting quip: "This park is exactly what Angelos deserves." For what he's done to the Orioles and all the years he labored to keep baseball out of Washington.

The Nats themselves, stung by the short stick they got on the MASN profits split, are eager to steal market share from the Orioles and don't hide it. "The largest parking lot for any Metro station is in Greenbelt directly to the north. It's only 24 minutes from there to our front door," team president Stan Kasten said. "So that's the direction where we ought to pick up a lot of fans. My daughter lives in Baltimore and drives to Greenbelt. Of course, she was already a Nationals fan."

The Orioles were especially gracious in praising Nationals Park after Saturday evening's exhibition. Manager Dave Trembley raved. Yet it was odd and unsettling to talk with former Orioles players, like executive vice president Mike Flanagan and hitting coach Terry Crowley, who once brought so much pleasure to baseball-bereft fans in Washington with their World Series exploits and pennant races.

"Beautiful park," Flanagan said. "The town deserves it."

For those, like me, who are peculiar enough to enjoy the idea of teams in both the National and American leagues within an easy drive, these are enjoyable times, not a chance to demand a loyalty oath. The Orioles are bad. But, finally, they are bad in the right way. Team president Andy MacPhail has taken over the reins with the understanding that he be allowed to treat the Orioles as a teardown, not an expensive remodel.

On that score, another key test was passed when Gibbons was released on Sunday. MacPhail called Angelos "looking for some advice." MacPhail laid out the situation. Angelos said, "You gotta do what you gotta do." Translation: Burn that $11.9 million contract in public.

If only other Orioles general managers had been given such authority. But MacPhail is in a different category. He's third-generation baseball aristocracy. MacPhail won two world titles in Minnesota, a small market few thought would ever win anything. His results with the Cubs were mixed. But if he resurrects a jewel franchise in Baltimore, he may be the front-runner to replace Commissioner Bud Selig someday.

Right now, he has a roster that's quickly being stripped down to scrap. Will it collapse under the guidance of a 20-year minor league manager or will it fight for its dignity, as Manny Acta's Nats did last year?

"I've had no problems since day one," Trembley said of his player's intensity.

"This was better than I expected," Trembley added of his first opener as a big league manager. "It was like Christmas morning to a lot of these young guys. Me, too." Then, looking at a crowded interview area, he quipped, "There are more darn people in this room than in some of the ballparks I've played in."

Some teams fight their underdog fate, resent it, think too highly of themselves to cope with being bad collectively. And they flounder. Other embrace it and sometimes keep their dignity. The booing of Huff for his gaffe on a shock-jock show was a team test. They passed. Huff admitted he'd been "stupid" and took his medicine, then volunteered, "With the bad [chilly, misty] weather, we still had a pretty good turnout today. This is a diehard baseball city."

Cleanup hitter Kevin Millar said: "Sometimes we're going to be behind the eight-ball this season and be undermanned. But you have to have a chip on your shoulder. I don't think anybody had the Rockies in the World Series last year. If two of your starting pitchers and two or three hitters have career years, it changes your whole season."

Some young Orioles will have a chance to show why big names were traded for them. Only by running the risk of being truly bad, by trading stars for prospects, by drafting high after awful seasons, can a downtrodden team in a mid-sized market crawl back toward the light.

"I just relish this opportunity," said center fielder Adam Jones, 22, the key man in the Bedard trade. "Millar keeps telling us there are seven billion people in the world and only 750 of us get the chance to be in the big league. So play like it."