The Loss Column — Baltimore Sports Blog and Community

Noted by Dan the Man in the comments, this story from orioles.com and the following nugget about Miguel Tejada:

Trembley said simply that he wanted to let Luis Hernandez play, completely sidestepping a question altogether about Tejada not playing. Tejada, a four-time All-Star, seemed perplexed by the reasoning behind his seat on the bench.

“They feel like they want to give me a day off. I don’t know if it’s a day off or I’m sitting on the bench,” he said. “Then I can go somewhere else next year, [if] they have somebody that can play short. That would be nice for me.”

When pressed further, Tejada said that he didn’t want a trade — he just wants to play shortstop. Trembley said that it may appear to be a grand shakeup, but that it’s really more an opportunity to empty his bench.

Before jumping to any conclusions it’s only fair to point out that he did say he wasn’t asking for a trade, and you have to feel for the guy given the way this team has crumbled around him. That said, this reinforces my feeling that a change of scenery would be the best thing for all parties involved. He clearly doesn’t want to be here, and the two or three good prospects we could probably get for him would likely help us out a lot more in the long run.

Ever since Rafael Palmeiro got busted for juicing I think we’ve all had one question in the back of our minds: does it stop there?

The answer appears to be “nope.” SI.com is reporting that O’s outfielder Jay Gibbons is the latest ballplayer to get caught in the steroids investigation net.

This news, I’m guessing, surprises exactly none of you. Gibbons is practically a poster boy for steroid use, and the rumors have been around for several years. Of course it’s all still “alleged”, and we should remain willing to hear Jay’s explanation if he has one.

That said, let’s assume it’s true. If so it raises two major issues:

1. Is this it, or are there others?
The same question we had with Palmeiro can only get stronger now. Jerry Hairston, you’ll recall, has already been mentioned, and I’ve heard a thing or two about Larry Bigbie. But what if there’s another “big” name out there? What if Tejada’s infamous B-12 shots really were dirty? This could get real, real ugly.

2. What do the Orioles do with Gibbons now?
The easy answer is “put him on the next bus out.” But it’s not that simple. They could cut him and take the financial hit, or they could try to wiggle out of his contract if the allegations prove true. But if they do that it’s going to set a terrible precedent, one that I doubt the Players Union would take sitting down. We may very well be facing the prospect of a steroid-tainted Gibbons suiting up for the O’s through the 09 season.

Nothing surprises me anymore.

I titled the last post “Drive the Point Home” because of the statistic with which I led it. Little did I know, Tampa would take the notion and run with it. They drove the point home to the tune of 17 runs.

My life is words. Whether or not you get a sense of it here — I’d like to think you do — I’m a pretty good writer. But I’m not sure a Frankenstein’s monster with Hemingway’s experience, Gammons‘ baseball knowledge, Joyce’s gift for prose, and Hunter S. Thompson’s appreciation of the absurd could manage to find sufficient words to explain what has happened with this team.

30-3, 9-7, 5-2, 7-4, 8-1, 11-3, 15-8, 5-4, 8-6, 8-9 (win!), 10-0, 3-2, 9-7, 4-8 (win!), 17-2.

I had it in the back of my mind that the 4-32 stretch with which we closed the ‘02 season was as bad as it could ever get. Not by a long shot.

The 2007 Baltimore Orioles are the most hopeless, futile, snake-bitten, ragtag bunch of underachievers in the history of baseball. Take a look at this 2005 Sports Illustrated list of the worst teams in history. Records aside, I don’t see anything worse than what we’ve got.

Why? Because losing is one thing, and losing in epic, demoralizing fashion is quite another. You can appreciate a loser. You can even, under the right circumstances, get behind a loser. But you can neither appreciate nor get behind a group that consistently loses the way these guys do it.

There’s little to love. Their two most exciting and intriguing players — Erik Bedard and Nick Markakis — go about their business in stoic fashion. That’s kind of awesome in my book, but it doesn’t offer much to warm the heart. Their most colorful and vocal leader, Kevin Millar, doesn’t have enough baseball talent to do it all himself. Their most bankable stars, Miguel Tejada and Melvin Mora, have all but given up.

Only a torrid late-season run (and I’m talking wins at a .650 clip) could come close to redeeming this season. Failing that, we have but one solution: complete offseason overhaul.

I’m talking about trading Tejada and Mora (who, I’d imagine, will have no problem relinquishing his no-trade protection). I’m talking about taking offers on Roberts and, yes, Bedard. I’m talking about ridding this team of every last scrap of the past ten years of futility.

The future is Matt Wieters, Billy Rowell, Brandon Snyder, and the guys we get in those trades. It’s guys who aren’t part of the losing culture.

This approach might mean more losses next year. It might mean two or three last-place finishes.

But tell the truth: wouldn’t you take it at this point in exchange for a clean break?

I don’t know what to say. But because it’s what I do, I’ll still say something.

I did an image search just now for “futility.” That search turned up this page, and the following image (click both pics for larger versions):

What we’ve got here is a team facing an epic losing streak. This is the kind of thing that fans of pretty much every other team, in every other sport, look at and say “wow, I’m sure glad we’re not that bad.”

Remember 4-32? This might get worse. Throughout all of the struggles we’ve seen over the past five years there has always been something to fall back on. We’ve always been able to say “we’re not Pittsburgh, we’re not Kansas City.”

I’ve got a splash of cold water for you: the Orioles aren’t Pittsburgh or Kansas City, they’re worse. At sixteen games below .500 the O’s currently outpace only the Devil Rays, Marlins, and Nationals — each of whom has, arguably, a brighter outlook next year than the black-and-orange.

One of whom just swept us at home.

So maybe that first image isn’t the one we want. Maybe it’s time to settle in and make this next one our mantra. It might be the only way.

The Birds carried a 4-1 lead into the eighth inning tonight. Did you feel comfortable?

The bullpen failed again, the team limped into extra innings, and the (inevitable?) loss came in inning 12.

This all happened after they announced that Erik Bedard will miss his next start. Additionally, my car broke down, three of my best friends died, someone stole my identity and used it to buy a house in Long Beach, and my dog peed on my forehead at five o’clock this morning.

I can’t find much to say about the Orioles right now. They’re on pace to post the worst bullpen ERA in the history of the team. The season is over and every move that really matters will take place between November and February.

In the meantime, we suffer.

However…

We still have seven games against the Red Sox and six against the Janquis (including a season-ending home series). We cannot turn our backs on this team. If we do that we are turning our backs on Brian Roberts, Nick Markakis, Kevin Millar, Erik Bedard, Jeremy Guthrie, and the handful of other players who make that bird on their hat worth caring about. I feel for those guys. They deserve better.

Keep it in mind as you yearn for Hot Stove Action.

Give Joe Angel credit. Round about the time the Rays scored their 45th run tonight, Angel actually said “I can’t take this nightmare any longer…wake me up and kill me.” I’m not sure a hundred Shakespeares could say it better.

For anyone who thinks I’m too positive, or that I don’t criticize the team when it’s warranted, or that I’m an apologist, here you go: this is inexcusable. There’s no massaging it, no explaining it away, no finding the good amidst the bad.

It’s not about tonight. Under normal circumstances a game like this could be excused as “just one of those games.” Uh-uh. This makes five games on the current home stand (including the 30-3 debacle) in which the O’s had the lead and still ended up losing. That, folks, qualifies as a pattern.

Who plays on this team? Are we dealing with men here? Are we dealing with men who take pride in their work and feel shame when they fail? Who are these people?

To be fair, the bullpen was overworked under Sam Perlozzo and the fallout is catching up. That’s a fact. But there comes a time for accountability, and this is that time.

Andy MacPhail and DT deserve a chance to show what they can do. It’ll be awhile before we know what’s what with them. Until then, I’m putting it on the players.

The name on the front of the jersey (whether or not it says “Baltimore”) means a hell of a lot more than the name on the back. So from here on out, I’m looking for one thing and one thing only: pride. That means hard work, execution, and passion. The rest of this season is an audition, and I will hate relentlessly on every single player who dogs it from here to there.

Disgusting.

Right now, with three minutes to go, the Orioles braintrust is somewhere, doing something.

edit: the first official report indicating that a deal didn’t happen comes from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

MY GOODNESS!

According to the Sun, we got the deal done!

And dig the quote from Joe Jordan: You can tell the City of Baltimore that the old evil owner stepped up and took care of things tonight. We had to fight to the end.

Nice!