Chapter 6

We had a nice home stand over the Independence Day weekend. Camden Yards was sold out for all three games against the White Sox, who were leading their Division. That is, they were leading their Division when the got into Baltimore. Not so sure about afterwards. We swept the series by lopsided margins.

The Birds were back.

Well, the excitement around town was at a five or six-year peak, and I was getting a lot of the credit for the way we were winning. It was true that I was having, so far at least, an exceptional offensive year. But what was really getting me excited was the enormous amount of talent I saw around me.

I arranged to have dinner with Surhoff and Arlie Stone, the Orioles' long-time pitching coach, the evening after the White Sox afternoon getaway game. Dinner with coaches or teammates during a home stand was, perhaps, a little unusual, but I wanted some Old China Hands to agree with the feeling I was gradually getting about this club, and this season.

"Am I kidding myself, or is this the best club in the American League?" I asked Surhoff.

"American League?... This is the best club in either league," Surhoff said.

"You really think so?" I asked. I looked at Arlie Stone. "Arlie. What about the pitchers?"

"The pitchers aren't as dominant as the offense," Stone said. "But our starters this year are pretty damned solid. And the way we're hitting, they don't have to be any more than just decent for us to win a shitload of games!"

"I don't remember being on a club this strong offensively -- ever -- I said."

"We're better than we were when the Cards beat us in the Series," Surhoff said.

"You think?" Stone asked him. "I mean, I see Miggie and Mora slowing down a little."

"A little," Surhoff said, "but they're still productive, both of them. And the supporting cast -- well, it's just lights-out this year!"

"I agree," I said. "Our starting offense is scary, top to bottom. Vasquez is a born lead-off man. And Josh Brennan -- Jesus! That kid wants to hit .400, and I think he's maybe gonna do it!"

"Don't forget Zeke the Streak," Arlie Stone said, grinning. "You're a fucking load out there, Zeke, hitting in the three-hole!"

Tejada was our clean-up guy, still, and his year-in, year-out .300 average seemed to have declined to the .270 level. But he was still hitting with power and driving in anybody standing on a base that I might have missed.

"And Bob Crandall," Surhoff said, "is almost -- almost -- making Orioles' fans forget about Brooksie."

"What about Tough Shit?" I said. "Is he a Project, or what?" Surhoff and I shared a smile, contemplating how Tough Shit Williams was starting to hit the ball like never before.

"Best seven-spot hitter in the Division," Arlie agreed. "He could hit second for a lot of clubs."

The rest of the starters -- Mora (our DH these days) -- the right fielder, Spider Welch, and Phil Burkowitz, our everyday catcher, were all having career years at the season's halfway point. Burkowitz, a notoriously weak hitter in the past, was batting ninth and had very little pop, but he was hitting .252. For Burkowitz, .252 was excellent.

"You deserve a lot of credit, B.J., for the way these guys are hitting. Especially Tough Shit Williams, and Burkowitz."

"You helped with Williams," he replied, "and Burkowitz? It's just pure luck he's hitting .250-something. It might not last."

"It'll last," I said. "The way we're playing, everybody's going to perform well. We're keeping each other afloat out there!"

"But, Arlie -- can our pitchers hold up?" Surhoff asked.

"Are you kidding me? We've got an offense that is fucking scary, it's so strong! You guys keep getting four-run leads before the fourth inning, I might decide to make a pitching comeback my own self!"

"Shiggie won 19 last year," Surhoff said, "and Sam Bailey 17. I wouldn't be surprised, both of them won 20 games this season."

"Murray's a little long in the tooth, though," I said. "And Ramirez? What if they fade in August?"

"I'm not losing any sleep," Arlie said. "Listen, Paul Warren is a fucking genius with pitchers. He nurses them along like they were newborn kittens. I've been with this club -- what? Six seasons now -- with Warren as manager. Our guys don't end the season with their arms ready to fall off. Hell, sometimes even I think he coddles the pitchers too much, and I'm the fucking pitching coach!"

"Anyway, we're deep," Surhoff said. "Toby Marr is a reliable fifth starter. And if anybody falters, we've got the old guys who could spot-start. I'm telling you, Zeke, this club is deep -- and flat-out good!"

"I'm glad it isn't just me, thinks so," I said. "I don't want to count my pennants before they're hatched, but I'm already looking forward to another shot at the Cardinals."

"Whoa, boy!" Stone said, laughing. "Let's don't get carried away, now. We got the toughest Division in either league here, and we ain't won Zippo just yet."

"What are you saying, Arlie? That you want to play them, one at a time?" I asked him, grinning like an idiot.

""Ain't over, 'till it's over," Surhoff said.

"The Yankees are formidable," Arlie said, with a phony deep voice-tone and a grave expression worthy of Winston Churchill.

"The Red Sox are always tough," Surhoff agreed theatrically, getting into the spirit of it.

"Toronto's much-improved," I intoned, "... and don't underestimate the 'Rays -- they're up-and-coming."

"The Rays 'been up-and-coming since I was a player," Surhoff said, getting giddy.

"More like down-and-going," Arlie said.

"Aw, c'mon! They really are a lot better, nowadays," I said, trying to stop laughing.

Despite the laughter, all three of us knew it was early, it was a long season, and any number of things could go wrong. But it wasn't foolhardy to notice that the Orioles had, at long last, assembled a really good 25-man ball club. Sure, plenty could still go wrong. Things could always go wrong. But we were deep. We had a truly frightening batting order and a good bench. We had reliable starters. Our closer, Freddie Gonzalez, was as cool as they came. Even the middle relief was tough and seasoned. Alex Osborn, back after Tommy John surgery, had evolved from spot-relief specialist to a highly reliable set-up guy for Gonzalez. Paul Warren trusted Alex with right or left-handed hitters nowadays. It's nice when you can trust your own son-in-law.