Steve Stone, 1981 Topps #520

I like to think that I'm secure in my heterosexuality, as well as my masculinity (so far as that goes). That's why I have no problem saying that in this photo, Steve Stone cuts a pretty handsome figure. Even today, 35 years along, he's aged fairly gracefully. Of course, he's also the rare gentleman who I'd say looks better clean-shaven than he does with a bit of facial hair. There are exceptions to every rule.

Steve Stone, 1981 Kellogg's #58

It's been a very productive day. I have no basis to say that, except that I just realized that I've got the complete Orioles team set of 1981 Kellogg's 3-D cards. There are only five of them, but that's still a completed oddball set from 34 years ago, and they're great-looking cards. In this case, Steve Stone is popping right out of the frame, his right shoulder facing forward. He might have sparsely-populated bleachers behind him, or fluffy clouds, or perhaps the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe not that last one. Anyhow, I'm so fond of these cards that I might shoot for the entire 66-card set. That's at least my 28th-highest collecting priority, subject to change.

Steve Stone, 2005 Donruss Greats #79

Do you realize that Steve Stone was the last Oriole pitcher to win the Cy Young Award? Sad but true. The 32-year-old righthander won an incredible 25 games against just 7 losses in 1980, accounting for a quarter of the team's victories in a thrilling season that saw the club finish 3 games back of the Yankees. He still holds the O's single-season record for wins, and his peripherals were the best of his career as well: a 3.23 ERA, 149 strikeouts, and 8 hits allowed per game, all in a career-high 250.2 innings. He made the only All-Star Game of his career, getting the starting nod and tossing three perfect innings. However, it all came at a great cost: the increased workload and his heavy use of curveballs put enough wear and tear on Stone's right arm to bring an end to his career the following year, as his ERA inflated to 4.60 in just 62.2 innings. To an outside observer, it might seem as if Steve Stone had sold his soul to the devil. That's just what teammate Ken Singleton suggested, anyhow.

For much more detail about one of the most headline grabbing seasons by any Baltimore starting pitcher, you can check out Bill Pemstein's new book A Stone's Throw. Bill is a frequent reader of this very blog and a former D.C.-area account executive for the Orioles. He's spent the past 20 years as a Chicago reporter covering high school sports. If you follow that link, you can read a preview of the book and order a paperback copy (if you're so inclined). From the few pages I've seen, it looks like a worthwhile detailed chronicle of a sometimes overlooked chapter in Orioles history.

Steve Stone, 1982 Fleer #182

Just enjoy this card. Enjoy it for all of your days.

Steve Stone, 1982 Topps #419

This is my first special request card, courtesy of my Uncle Jeff, who called last night to inform me that he had lost an entire evening while reading this blog and my NumerOlogy website. I'm happy to accommodate his request, since he has been a die-hard Orioles fan for his entire life and has played an important role in my own fandom. This Steve Stone card was one of the first (and oldest) cards in my collection, part of the mysterious stack of 1980s cardboard that came into my possession before I was even following baseball myself. It may have come from Uncle Jeff; at any rate, he's augmented my collection greatly throughout the years, including the recent generous donation of the entirety of his own collection. My uncle got me involved in fantasy baseball ten years ago, and I always look forward to talking sports with him at family gatherings.

In recent years, he's lost a lot of his passion for the sport, having been disillusioned by the usual suspects: the labor disputes, the steroid taint, and of course a decade of mismanagement by the Orioles' brass. So it was a great compliment when Uncle Jeff called and told me that my writing reminded him of the good times, the rich and colorful history of the Baltimore Orioles. In that spirit, he asked me to feature Steve Stone in this space. He vividly recalls Stone's magical 1980 season, in which he won a team-record 25 games and posted a 3.23 ERA to capture the last Cy Young Award to date by an Oriole. He owned one-quarter of the O's 100 victories, as the team fell three games short of the division champion Yankees.

My uncle described Stone's season as amazing, and it truly was, especially in the context of his own career. Setting aside 1980, Steve's career high in wins was 15 in 1977 (with the White Sox). In eleven years, only three times did his ERA meet the league average. Most incredible - and unfortunate - of all, Stoney pitched only twelve games in 1981 before calling it a career. The card at the top of this entry is his last.

The truth is that Steve Stone sacrificed everything for one great season. He consciously chose to throw more curveballs in 1980. As he said later, "I knew it would ruin my arm. But one year of 25-7 is worth five of 15-15." Still, the amount of pitches he threw were probably just as damaging as the type of pitch he threw. Stone started 37 games that year, five more than any other year in his career. In those 37 games he pitched 250 and two-thirds innings, obliterating his previous best of 214 and one-third. That kind of workload is bound to take a toll on a 32-year-old pitcher.

Uncle Jeff's warm remembrances would seem to indicate that Steve Stone had a point. Given the choice between one year of greatness and five years of mediocrity, what would you choose?