Willie Harris, 2001 Leaf Limited #293

I usually have pretty fair luck with Thorzul's group breaks, but I received my spoils from his latest lot in the mail today, and...not so much. Milwaukee's favorite blogger had bought up a whole mess of serial-numbered sports cards on eBay, and anyone could buy in for $30. That got you four teams, one from each major U.S. sport. I was really only in it for the Orioles, but I also claimed the New York Giants (as trade bait), the Charlotte Hornets/Bobcats (since my wife is from Charlotte), and the Detroit Red Wings (eh, I liked them when I was younger). My haul was a big fistful of assorted Giants, a handful of Bobcats, no hockey cards, though I wouldn't have known what to do with them anyhow, and a mere five O's. There were Rafael Palmeiro and Sammy Sosa cards from 2005, mementos of the most disappointing season of my fanhood, 2001 rookie cards of Ed Rogers and Sean Douglass, as a reminder that "rookie" is often synonymous with "footnote in baseball history", and this Willie Harris rookie card, which was short printed and serial numbered 536 of 1000. Looking at the checklist for 2001 Leaf Limited, one of the relic inserts featured a scrap of Josh Towers' pants. I don't know whether I'm relieved or disappointed that I missed out on that one.

Willie Harris, 2002 Topps Total #986

If you remember current Nationals utility man Willie Harris' time with the Orioles, you must have a better memory and a higher threshold for pain than I do. The speedy outfielder from Cairo, GA (birthplace of Jackie Robinson) made his major league debut with the O's in September 2001, collecting three hits in 24 at-bats over nine games. The following January, he was traded to the White Sox for the utterly forgettable Chris Singleton.

"Utterly forgettable" sums up much of that 2001 season, the fourth of twelve straight losing seasons in Baltimore (and counting). The Birds fell to ten games under .500 on July 16 and just kept sliding, finishing a game and a half out of the cellar at 63-98, 32.5 games behind the first-place Yankees. It was the pitifully unfitting end of an era, as Cal Ripken, Jr. and Brady Anderson played their final games in Camden Yards. Meanwhile, among the other 44 players to suit up in orange and black were a few guys who you may not have recognized as O's: In addition to Harris, there was Rock Raines (as blogged about here), future Indians and Dodgers third baseman/beard aficionado Casey Blake (2-for-15 before being offered back to the Twins on waivers), and journeyman lefty John Wasdin, who shares my birthday and my talent for pitching (if his 5.28 career ERA is any indication). Oh, and somebody named Kris Foster, a former 39th-round pick of the Expos, pitched in seven games.

Just let some of those names wash over you, as well as the rest of the not-ready-for-MLB players. Thankfully, I was a freshman in college in 2001, and I willfully ignored much of this hideous season. I've got enough baseball-related mental scarring as it is.