Larry Sheets, 1990 Score #111

So I've been missing in action for a week, but I've got a heck of a story. Friday, Janet and I drove down to Charlotte to visit her family over the long weekend. We were feeling snake-bit about traveling when the forecast called for more winter weather in the Mid-Atlantic (you might remember our misadventures one year ago), but Janet's grandmother is in poor health so we decided to go. We watched the weather reports closely on Saturday and Sunday, and finally resigned ourselves to cutting our stay short and leaving Sunday afternoon at 4:30. That allowed us to...drive directly into the snowstorm in southern Virginia at about 6:00 pm. Janet and I struggled with lessened visibility, often-slick road conditions, and speeds as low as 35 mph for the next five-plus hours, which made for lots of tense moments. With its two-lane structure and heavy tractor trailer traffic, I-81 can be a challenging drive even on clear days. Shortly after a restroom and coffee stop in Staunton, VA (birthplace of Larry Sheets!), we realized that the interstate wasn't getting any smoother and our ETA was climbing up to 2:30 AM. So by 11:30, we called it a night and checked into the Comfort Inn in Woodstock...and stayed until noon on Tuesday. Monday turned out to be a total wash, thanks to a daylong progression of snow, sleet, and torrential rain. When we finally did hit the road again, it was a clear shot home. We were back in Baltimore just before 3:30 yesterday afternoon, a mere 47 hours after we'd begun the trip. Next year, I think we'll be staying put for President's Day.

Larry Sheets, 1988 Topps UK #70

Thanks to Topps, the British know the legend of Larry Sheets. Of course, they're wondering why his bat is so thin and cylindrical.

Larry Sheets, 2014 Orioles Alumni Postcards

I guess the only thing the Orioles needed to awaken their bats from a Wrigley slumber was the calming presence of Larry Sheets.

Allow me to clarify. Remembering that the Orioles make a few ex-players available for autographs along the Eutaw Street concourse prior to Monday and Thursday games, I wandered over that way with my sister once we got through the gates yesterday evening. Sure enough, there he was: Larry "31 homers in 1987" Sheets, alongside mid-'70s infielder and Baltimore native Tim Nordbrook and outfielder Fred Valentine, who had three separate stints with the O's in 1959, 1963, and 1968. Since there was still over an hour before first pitch, I waited in line to collect signatures from the trio. Larry looks pretty good for 54, much better than Cal Ripken, if we're being brutally honest. I was a little sorry to see that he'd lost the trademark mustache, but you can't fault a guy for keeping his look fresh. A group of older guys passing by called out to Nordbrook to invite him out for drinks after the game, and he playfully asked if they wanted his autograph. When they responded in the affirmative, Tim yelled, "Get in line!". Valentine was moving more slowly than the two younger ex-players, but his signature was meticulous and clear, so it was a fair trade.

On yet another in a series of the moderate nights that have made this an atypical summer in Baltimore, the Birds seemed glad to be home, even if the crowd was on the small side (15,516 paid, though several of them must have stayed home). Chris Tillman looked sharp right from the start, generating weak grounders all over the infield. Steve Pearce and Jonathan Schoop each dropped a throw from J. J. Hardy on consecutive plays in the third inning, giving Tampa Bay a very short-lived 1-0 lead. But you can't keep a power-hitting team like the Orioles dormant forever, and the breakout came in the bottom of the third. Nick Markakis ended an 0-for-21 skid with a two-run homer to put the O's on top, and Steve Pearce immediately followed with a moon shot to left field. 3-1 Birds on back-to-back home runs against Jake Odorizzi.

The real fun came two innings later, as things got really out of hand in a good way for the hosts. The inning opened with three straight singles by the law firm of Pearce, Jones, and Cruz. After an initial hesitation, Pearce rumbled around third base and scored on Cruz's knock to left, as Rays left fielder Matt Joyce bobbled the ball. I had noticed Steve and Joyce conversing in the outfield during pregame warmups, and my idle theory was that the Oriole slugger was subtly intimidating his contemporary. It sure looked like it on that play. Anyhow, back-to-back-to-back singles are all well and good, but how about back-to-back-to-back home runs? I can tell you first-hand that they're pretty great. Delmon Young continued his baffling rejuvenation with an Earl Weaver Special over the left-center field fence, making it 7-1, and J. J. Hardy chased Odorizzi with a solo shot in the next at-bat. Chris Davis, who probably would've liked to take some hacks against the unraveled starter, rallied to welcome reliever Kirby Yates with a solo four-bagger of his own. It was 9-1, and there were still no outs. Nick Hundley made it seven hits in a row with an infield single and a one-base error by first baseman James Loney, but Yates stopped the bleeding there. Still, the Orioles had made team history by stacking back-to-back homers AND a separate occurrence of back-to-back-to-back home runs for the first time in their 60-plus seasons in Baltimore.

The rest of the game was less eventful. Tillman earned his 11th win with seven innings of three-hit ball, Darren O'Day and Zach Britton were untouchable as usual, and the Birds maintained their six-game division lead. Oh wait - there was a pretty decent double play turned by Adam Jones and Jonathan Schoop. You might see this one on highlight reels for a little while yet.

Larry Sheets, 1989 Topps #98

24 hours ago, Chris Davis was sitting on the Orioles' bench, given a night off because, in his own words, "I've been sucking lately". A 4-for-36 slump and a tough matchup in White Sox lefty Chris Sale gave Buck Showalter all of the motivation he needed to start red-hot Steve Pearce at first base and slide Delmon Young into the lineup at DH. A few hours later, Davis was called upon to pinch hit for Young (who had gone 3-for-4 in his stead) against Chicago's righthanded closer Ronald Belisario. What he did next was something that no Oriole pinch hitter had done in nearly 26 years: hit a walkoff home run.

Crush's blast to right field came with one out, two runners on base, a full count, and the O's trailing 4-3.  As he rounded third base, the slugger took off his helmet and bowled it into his teammates, who were waiting at home to mob him. Surprisingly, the Birds hadn't gotten a game-ending homer from a pinch hitter since August 24, 1988, when Larry Sheets batted for Rene Gonzales and turned a ninth-inning, 3-2 deficit into a 4-3 victory over Mike Schooler and the Mariners.

Chris Davis took a very good shot at unsucking last night.

Larry Sheets, 1985 Donruss #36

You may have known that Larry Sheets was a one-year wonder. But did you know that he was a historical one-year wonder? According to a blog post by High Heat Stats contributor Doug, ol' Sheetsy had the biggest-ever dropoff in single-season slugging percentage between his best season (.563 in 1987) and any other season in his career (second-best was .343 in 1988). Considering that this 220-point drop in his slugging mark came immediately on the heels of that great 31-homer effort, it's no wonder that the 1987 and 1988 seasons were the only two years that Larry got enough plate appearances to qualify for the batting title. Those putrid '88 Orioles could have used the Larry Sheets of 1987, and instead he hit one-third the home runs in almost exactly the same number of trips to the dish. That's enough to sour a team on a player right quick.

Larry Sheets, 1989 Upper Deck #254

This is Kevin, your trusted imaginary neighborhood blogger (that is, the neighborhood is imaginary...I'm a real person, I swear), with a public service announcement: Always store your baseball cards properly.

You see, I have lots of cardboard boxes and binders in which to keep my precious treasures. Most of my cards are even housed securely in said boxes and binders. But in my laziness, I've allowed a few of these binders to take up residence on the bottom shelf of my glass-top coffee table, rather than finding space for them in my half-finished spare bedroom, where most of my collection lives.

Perhaps you can already see where this is going.

Last night, I was sitting on my couch, enjoying a frosty Heavy Seas Great Pumpkin Ale and some leftover pumpkin roll from Thanksgiving while watching TV. My charming cat Charlie hopped onto the coffee table, doing a tightrope act precariously close to both my mug and my laptop. In my infinite wisdom, I reached over with my free hand and attempted to scoot him off before he could make a mess...and knocked over the mug my own fool self. Most of the beer soaked into the rug, but some seeped through between the glass panels and the wooden frame, onto said binders. I spent the next portion of my evening on my hands and knees, wiping pumpkin ale off of the plastic binder pages that contain my half-finished 1959 Topps set. To my naked eye, it appears that the cards themselves were unharmed, but I bet that binder is going to be a bit sticky and malty-smelling now. I also leafed through the 1989 Upper Deck and 1994 Topps binders to make sure that they were dry. I brought this all upon myself, and appear to have just barely skirted disaster. Still, any lingering effects will serve as a reminder of my folly.

Larry Sheets, 1989 Donruss #333

The Orioles are terrible. It's still early, but it's getting later all the time. We've been through all of this before, but never in 12 seasons of losing have they been the absolute worst team in the major leagues...and of course, never have they had such a realistically optimistic outlook before the season started. We could go through the ugly numbers, but you know them. 1 win, 11 losses. Nine straight losses. 34 runs scored in 12 games (2.8 per game). Four key players on the disabled list. A team batting line of .227/.300/.384, as of yesterday. A cast of relievers that enter games with blowtorches in hand.

It's been a long time since the O's were at the absolute bottom of the big leagues - 22 years, in fact. That was the enchanted 1988 season that began with a record 21 consecutive losses and ended with Cal Ripken, Sr. and Eddie Murray no longer in Oriole uniforms. The offense was the dregs of the American League, finishing seventh in home runs, eighth in walks, and last or next-to-last in all else. The pitching was nearly as bad, with four starters losing a dozen games and none winning more than eight. The Birds lost 107 games and won only 54, finishing 34.5 games behind the East-leading Red Sox.

Larry Sheets was emblematic of the total collapse of baseball in Baltimore. Looking like a breakout star thanks to his 31 homers, 94 RBI, and .316 average in 1987, he was a completely different player the next year. He may have made a tactical mistake by shaving his trademark mustache; the above photo is likely from Spring Training, and I haven't seen other photos where he appears bare-lipped, but it seems like Larry was a modern-day Samson. His power was in that mustache, and shaving it even one time sapped him of his strength. It's as good (and entertaining) an explanation as any for his precipitous one-year decline to a .230 average, 10 homers, and 47 RBI. He was outslugged in 1988 by Rick Schu, for crap's sake.

I don't know if there's a lesson here for the 2010 Orioles. That 1988 team was full of aging veterans and mediocre youngsters, and represented rock bottom after a half-decade's decline. This team has much more talent, and did have much more hope.

Maybe they should all grow bad mustaches.

Larry Sheets, 1989 Bowman #16

Here we see Larry Sheets modeling the utmost in menswear finery from the 1989 Dugout Collection. He's nattily attired in his black turtleneck with a pair of matching Oriole-orange stripes. Like all fashionable, hirsute studs of the Eighties, he's wearing it one size too small, the better to make his head appear enormous. After all, it takes a big head to hold a big brain, and the ladies will tell you that there's nothing sexier than an intelligent man, especially one who knows his way around the bases. Larry's smoldering expression, with eyes cast toward the distance, tells you that he might be dressed for the chills of spring, but he's got his sights set on those hot summer nights.

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