The first sign came that fall of 2014 when Dan Duquette decided not to re-sign Nelson Cruz. Cruz was a bargain basement lineup anchor in 2014, pounding 40 homers and 108 RBI on an $8 million dollar contract. Cruz left for Seattle when Baltimore wouldn't offer a fourth year on their contract extension. Cruz's bat and clubhouse presence have been missed since.
The next sign was the albatross contract extension for Chris Davis after the 2015 season. Peter Angelos had been rightly criticized for being stingy with his cash. Cruz couldn't get a fourth year. Nik Markakis, about the closest thing to being Mr. Oriole the Birds had at the time, was unceremoniously allowed to walk to Atlanta. And the front office acted as if paying a quality starting pitcher a decent wage was like contracting gonorrhea. But when the Adderall Kid needed a new deal, Angelos finally opened his wallet. Some fans saw Davis's contract as the first sign of ownership willing to commit to keeping the team together and a championship window open. Others knew exactly what it meant: Davis would never earn the money and committing such resources would mean the end of the Manny Machado Era was nigh.
The next signal was actually a bit of a surprise. In 2016, the O's scrapped their way to a wild card berth. On that fateful night in Toronto, Buck Showalter left Zach Britton, who had just completed one of the greatest regular seasons ever by a relief pitcher, in the bullpen while Ubaldo Jimenez (nice guy/terrible Oriole) served up a season-ending gopher ball to Edward Encarnacion. It was surprising because it was the first time I remember Buck screwing up in a big moment. Sure, you could argue it was the right move, tie game, saving Britton, blah, blah, blah. Sorry, foresight was 20/20 on that one. After five years of watching Buck make chicken salad out chicken manure, after saluting him for restoring an organizational culture and attitude, and after cheering his seer-like manipulation of the bullpen for years, the bloom was off the rose. Yes, it was just one bad decision, one wrong call. But this felt different. Confidence in Buck was no longer unwavering.
Finally, the writing was on the wall. 2017 saw Baltimore somehow hover near .500 through August despite their starting pitchers posting an ERA over 5 runs a game. But an epic September swoon was just preamble to the disastrous 2018 season. I laughed at Sports Illustrated's pre-2018 prediction of 70 wins for my beloved Birds. Surely with so much offensive firepower, adding a couple reasonably professional starting pitchers, and the still formidable, if not invincible, Buck, Baltimore could maybe, somehow, kinda, sorta fight for a wild card spot. Well, they proved SI wrong, alright. Sports Illustrated looks downright silly predicting 70 wins. Just not silly in a good way. The O's need to win 38 of their final 55 games (a .690 winning percentage) to reach 70 wins. Considering they are currently winning at a .299 clip, I'd say the odds of me skipping desert are better than Baltimore reaching 70 wins.
So, we knew this day was coming. We prepared in different ways. My nine-year-old daughter bought a Manny Machado poster in the offseason so she could remember him when he is gone. Friends crossed fingers that their son's favorite player, Adam Jones, would remain wearing orange and black. I've scaled back my viewing habits, maybe subconsciously distancing myself from the carnage. Even these preparations were not enough. The last two weeks have been a bloodbath. An Orange Wedding for you Game of Thrones fans out there. Machado, Britton, Jonathan Schoop, Kevin Gausman, Brad Brach, and Darren O'day all gone in a cloud of prospects and international signing money. (Oh, so NOW the front office thinks scouting other countries for young talent might actually be a wise decision. Welcome to 2018, dummies. May I also interest you in this new-fangled area of science called analytics?) The roster is gutted, removing almost all links to the 2014 A.L. East champions. Gone is the hope of a future fun-loving double play combo of Schoop and Machado. Gone, too, are the formerly lockdown bullpen stalwarts Brach, O'day, and Britton. Once upon a time, if the starter could get through six innings (a dicey proposition most nights), victory was almost assured. Who is left? Adam Jones remains. So too, does Chris Davis. I love Adam and hope he re-signs in the offseason. Though his skills have diminished he is a helluva representative for the organization. He has picked up the mantle of Mr. Oriole and worn it well. But he is not a piece to build around. Nor is Davis. The man cannot even hit his weight, but has FOUR YEARS left on his contract. My goodness, someone please get him some Adderall. I'm actually okay with the fire sale. The signs told us it would happen, even if I didn't think it would be this drastic. I'm surprised they stopped where they did. Why not trade Dylan Bundy for some used fungo bats? What, did the fax machine run out of paper at the league office? But such a wholesale roster reduction leaves questions.
Where do we go from here? Of course, that is an umbrella question covering many others. Are the prospects garnered in these trades any good? Who will be running the front office next season, guiding the rebuild? Does the miserly owner actually want to rebuild? Will Buck return? Why would he want to come back? Will the (N)O's play in front of Marlin-like crowds in Camden Yards next season? Can I think of one more question to write here? So. Many. Questions.
If I were running the team, I would do two things: bring up the prospects right now, and clean house in the offseason. Gone are the days of grooming stars in the minors. The Braves are ahead of schedule because they have brought their kids up for on-the-job training. If the kids can play they will benefit from live-fire exercises. There is only one way to find out if the trades were any good. Get the prospects in the big leagues tomorrow.
As for the manager and general manager, it is time for fresh air. Buck has been awesome, but it is time for a new era, a new voice. Dan Duquette has found some gems from the trash heap while constrained by the owner's budget clamps, but for too long has acted like he wants to be elsewhere. These guys have performed admirably, giving me this gift along the way. However, the dream topped out at reaching and being swept in one ALCS. Thank you and goodbye.
But I am not the owner, I am a fan. What should we fans do? I don't know about you, but I'll cheer. I'll beg the baseball gods to sprinkle some star power on the prospects. I root for the uniform. I still love Camden Yards. I'll cheer. I always do. In fact, I've been here before. Baltimore was awful in 1988. Lost 21 straight games to start the season. Traded away my favorite Oriole, Eddie Murray. Things were as low as they could go. Do you remember what happened in 1989? The Birds almost went from worst to first. Only Pete Harnisch stepping on a nail and a bad final weekend in Toronto kept the "Why Not?" season from being even more special. Yeah, I'll cheer next season; it's what I do. Maybe a little Orioles Magic will find its way to Birdland. I know it is far more likely we are headed for another decade of losing seasons, but a boy can dream, right?
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