Larry Bigbie, 2005 Topps #572

No blog post tomorrow, since I'm going straight from work this afternoon to Ocean City to catch the tail end of my family's week at the beach. In my warped, circuitous little mind, I tend to associate Larry Bigbie with Ocean City. Nine years ago, we were vacationing there in the last week of July. There was an English teacher from my high school with whom I was friendly, and I'd taken the bus into nearby Fenwick Island to hang out at her condo with a group of her friends and coworkers over a few drinks. The Orioles were hosting the White Sox, and the game was on the TV in the condo. It was Saturday, July 30, and the bottom was rapidly dropping out for the fast-starting O's. They'd peaked on June 21 at 42-28, 14 games above .500 and clinging to a two-game advantage in the AL East (their advantage had been as many as 4.5 games in late May). A 1-8 stretch followed, or 2-11 if you want to drag it out further, but then the Birds won three of four from Boston and kicked off a nine-game road trip with two straight wins in Seattle. Then came a fatal stretch in which they dropped 16 of 18 games, including three wrenching walkoff defeats in the span of five games. This night's game was in the midst of that skid and was typically brutal. It took four Baltimore pitchers to make it through six innings, but the team clung to a 6-4 entering the eighth. Chris Ray came in and torched the field, surrendering four runs with the help of back-to-back homers from A.J. Pierzynski and Jermaine Dye. Just for an extra kick in the teeth, disgruntled lefty Steve Kline allowed an insurance run in the ninth and the Birds fell 9-6 to drop below .500 at 51-52. There was buzz around the game because of the upcoming trade deadline. The O's, attempting feng shui on a sinking ship at this point, parted ways with injury-prone former first-round pick Larry Bigbie, trading him to the Rockies for spastic outfielder Eric Byrnes. Byrnes made his Oriole debut that night and had an RBI double in his second at-bat, but was promptly picked off by Jose Contreras. He went hitless in his other four trips to the plate, setting the stage for a short and underwhelming 52-game stint in Birdland (.192/.246/.299).

But hey, those days are ancient history, and I'm going down the Ocean, Hon.

Miguel Tejada, 2005 Topps #694

How perfect and clairvoyant is this card? Obviously, the photo was taken during the 2004 All-Star Game Home Run Derby (July 11, 2004), when Miguel Tejada and hometown favorite Lance Berkman blasted shot after shot over the fence at Houston's Minute Maid Park. Between the two of them they hit 48 homers total, and Miggy eventually came out on top by besting "Fat Elvis" 5-4 in the final round. It was only right, as he set records (since broken) for home runs in a single round (15) and total home runs (27). Of course the duo became teammates in 2008 when the O's traded Tejada to the Astros for five players, Luke Scott chief among them.

Though Houston has struggled since they got their new shortstop, the team had a very notable inning on Saturday night highlighted by offensive milestones from the above-dubbed Kings of Swing. In the sixth inning, Tejada had an RBI single for his 2,000th career hit, making him the 29th shortstop to achieve that mark. In one of those serendipitous coincidences that make baseball so enjoyable, Berkman slammed his 12th home run of the season just two batters later to score Miggy; it happened to be the 300th round-tripper of his 11-year career.

Congratulations to both players. I've always liked Lance for his goofy nicknames ("The Big Puma" is another of them), his unassuming personality, and his unreal batting prowess. I spent four years of my life rooting for Miggy, and I still want him to succeed in spite of some of the ugly headlines he's made in the past year or two.

John Maine and Val Majewski, 2005 Topps #327

As I mentioned last night, last year's Orioles Minor League Pitcher of the Year made his major league debut tonight against the White Sox. He gave up three runs (one earned) in five and two-thirds innings, striking out four, and left with a one-run lead. It was a promising beginning, and a more auspicious first try than that of John Maine. I considered a last-minute effort to attend tonight's game, but the overcast skies scared me away. If only I'd stayed away from Maine's debut.

It was July 23, 2004, and my college roommate Mikey and his girlfriend Julianne had gotten four tickets to the O's-Twins game from her father's work. I honestly don't remember much about the game. It was one of those goofy floppy hat giveaway nights, and it doesn't get much goofier than orange, black, and white camouflage with an adjustable neck string. As you can see, I turned it into a rally hat.


Not that the rally-ization of the eyesore headwear did any good. 23-year-old John Maine set the Twins down in order in the first inning, but came undone in the second. The first four runners reached in a three-run frame for Minnesota, highlighted by a two-run single from Corey Koskie. The rookie pitched out of a bit of trouble in the third but allowed four hits (including a Jacque Jones leadoff home run) in the fourth before giving way to John Parrish. His final line: 3.2 IP, 7 H, 4 ER, 3 BB, 1 K, 1 WP. As he left the mound trailing by a 4-1 score, I probably yelled some none-too-charitable things at him. Probably something about not letting the door hit him in the butt on the way back to AAA Ottowa. It was a steamy summer night, the team was already eight games under .500, and I was young (okay, 22) and immature.

The O's couldn't dig themselves out of the hole that their brand-new starter had dug, managing just a two-run spurt in the seventh before a ninth-inning, two-run homer off of Buddy Groom gave Corey Koskie a four-RBI night. As the night wore on, Mikey and I amused ourselves by cheering for the Twins' batboy, who frequently sprinted to and from the visitor's dugout on our side of the field. Your final: Twins 7, Orioles 3. John Maine did indeed return to Ottowa, his spot start a flop. He wouldn't get a chance to improve upon his 0-1 record and 9.82 major league ERA until 2005, when he was marginally better (2-3, 6.30 in 10 games) but still nothing to write home about. Then it was off to the Mets with Jorge Julio in exchange for Kris Benson. He's gone 31-23 in three seasons since, with better-than-league-average ERAs in each campaign. His peripherals have been declining in each of those three years, but he's still carved out a better career than his shaky initial trip to the mound would have indicated.

Melvin Mora, 2005 Topps #337

As I've navigated the darkness of the last eleven years of Oriole futility, I find myself clutching at the little shreds of relevance, the symbols that Baltimore still has a place in Major League Baseball. Whether it's the rare series win against the Yankees or Red Sox, or George Sherrill coming up huge in the All-Star Game, I just want to know that my team is still a part of the national conversation. I always hope against hope that one of our players will win a major award, or even lead the league in a significant category.

For Melvin Mora to challenge for the American League batting title in 2004 was borderline surreal. Going into that year, he was a 32-year-old utility player. He'd hit .317 the year before, but injuries limited him to 96 games and the O's can't have been sure whether they were getting that Melvin Mora or the guy who had hit .233 two years previous. But they finally settled on a position for him, and their new third baseman caught fire. He was hitting .385 on June 1, and though he didn't maintain that pace, he was still in the running until Ichiro pulled away in August. Mora had to settle for second place, but at least he was beaten by the best. Besides, he established career highs in every major offensive category and won a Silver Slugger Award. Being chosen as the best hitter in the league at third base is a pretty good consolation prize, I'd say.

B. J. Ryan, 2005 Topps #625

I hate to post and run, but I'm a very busy man today. First, I have the final performance of my play - which is going very well, thanks for asking. We've had good crowds for all four shows, and with 45 (of a maximum 60) tickets presold as of Friday, we're practically guaranteed our second sellout today! In the meantime, I have to straighten up my apartment; I'm hosting a cast party after the show and it's doubling as an early birthday party for yours truly. So...places to go, people to see.

Few Oriole pitchers have been as busy as B. J. Ryan was during his six-plus seasons in orange and black. Among all O's pitchers, he ranks fifth in total games pitched, with 404. The only reliever that tops him is Tippy Martinez, with 499. Until 2007, when Dave Trembley and Sam Perlozzo rode their only reliable bullpen arms (Jamie Walker - 81 games, Chad Bradford - 78 games) straight into the ground, B. J. was also tied with Tippy for the most appearances in a single season with 76 - but Ryan did it twice, in consecutive years (2003 and 2004). I suppose it was inevitable that the imposing lefty would break down, as he pitched only five times for the Blue Jays in 2007 before having Tommy John surgery to repair torn elbow ligaments in his pitching arm. But he seems to be back at full strength in 2008, having already racked up several saves at the expense of his former team. I'm really, truly happy for him. Nope, no sarcasm whatsoever in that statement. None. Excuse me...

Erik Bedard, 2005 Topps #593

This may be my last chance to talk about Erik Bedard while he's still an Oriole. Sure, the trade rumors have been swirling all winter with nothing doing yet. But given Andy MacPhail's stated January 31 deadline, and the discrepancy between his side of the story and Bedard's...I just have a hunch that this is getting done.

To baseball fans around the country, Bedard is known as a rising star. He set the Orioles' single-season record in strikeouts with 221 last year, in just 182 innings. He received Cy Young consideration despite the fact that he missed all of September with an oblique injury and played for a crummy team. Plus, you know, he's left-handed, which sets general managers' hearts a-flutter.

However, many Baltimore fans think of Erik as a surly wiseass. He's known for his frosty relationship with reporters. On the days that he doesn't bolt from the clubhouse before the media even arrives, he'll often respond to queries with curt, one-word responses. Sometimes he'll flat-out tell a reporter that his question is stupid. I'm of two minds about this. There's a part of me that wonders who cares about how "nice" a guy is as long as he gets results on the field. On the other hand, I do think Bedard goes a little far sometimes. He's got to realize that as a top-shelf major league pitcher, he's a public figure and people are going to *gasp* pay attention to what he does and says.

Some fans whispered that Bedard was soft last year, that a muscle strain in his ribcage was a poor excuse for shutting himself down while his team struggled to find healthy arms. That's a dangerous road to walk, because most athletes work through pain that you or I couldn't imagine. Only Bedard can really know how much pain he's in, when it comes right down to it.

I was annoyed when I first read Bedard's comments in the Baltimore Sun on Friday. It's hard to hear a pitcher who's had half of the teams in baseball drooling over him, a guy who's in line for a major pay day, complain of being "unwanted". But more and more, I'm taking what I know about him and coming to the conclusion that he's playing a game with the media for old time's sake. I just don't see how he could call the Miguel Tejada trade a surprise with a straight face. He also claims that the team hasn't showed interest in signing him to an extension, when his agent admits that the team floated the idea of a contract extension.

I'm sure there's some part of Erik Bedard that has enjoyed his time in Baltimore and will miss his teammates and coaches. But he's going to a better place, and I think he's protesting a bit too much to actually be serious in his remarks. We'll have to wait and see who has the last laugh.