Culture
Ghiroli: The Orioles’ honeymoon is over, and their front office needs to find answers
BALTIMORE — The backslapping of goodbyes in the Baltimore Orioles clubhouse was deafening, the official obituary for a team that has been playing dead for months.
This much is clear: The honeymoon is over.
Last year, when this group was swept out of the American League Division Series by the eventual champion Texas Rangers, the reasons seemed valid. They were young, inexperienced. They had simply run out of gas in October. There was dejection, but it was hard to be too upset at a team that had stunned the sport by winning 101 games and the AL East. Over and over, those around the team offered variations of the same phrase: It was just the beginning of a long window for this young core.
The window is here. And if the organization, everyone from general manager Mike Elias on down, doesn’t learn from its mistakes, it could slam shut sooner than anyone thought.
A new ownership group, led by David Rubenstein, will take a close look at the business in its first full offseason, and the list of upgrades and to-dos is long. This front office would be wise to do its own autopsy, after a listless 2-1 loss to the Kansas City Royals that should send shock waves through every corner of Camden Yards.
“It all came crashing down on us sooner than anyone expected it to,” catcher James McCann said of an Orioles team with World Series expectations that was 20 games over .500 in the first half of the season.
This isn’t just about Jordan Westburg’s injury, though when Westburg fractured his hand, the Orioles’ offense took a nosedive in August and September. Nor is it about the alarming play of catcher Adley Rutschman, who is either hurt or just went the better part of four months as a below-average offensive player.
And it isn’t just about playing things too safe at the trade deadline, though you could certainly start there. The Orioles were a .500 team in the second half of the season, and were it not for the acquisition of Wednesday’s starter, Zach Eflin, the deadline could be chalked up as a total failure. It is the second successive season Elias and his group opted not to make a big splash but to instead hold on to most of their top prospects and carefully cultivated farm system.
Maybe bigger moves weren’t out there, but there were other paths to upgrade. One, closer Lucas Erceg, stared them in the face as he finished the job for the Royals in both wild-card games. Two more, the San Diego Padres’ Tanner Scott and Jason Adam, were significant enough bullpen upgrades that it makes you wonder: How many games could they have changed for the Orioles? Being bold can invigorate a clubhouse. Being safe, for the second season in a row, can be deflating. “It’s better than nothing,” a member of last year’s team texted me after the team acquired Jack Flaherty and Shintaro Fujinami, both busts, last July. Was it, though?
Optics matter. Clubhouse dynamics matter. Experience matters. Especially in the postseason.
Kansas City, a small-market team, infused its club with four new players at the deadline and added another trio in August on waivers. It prioritized veterans, knowing postseason experience was important. Who in the Orioles lineup has the experience and cache to call a pregame meeting to light a fire, or keep things loose in the dugout? Veterans matter, even when they don’t show up in the numbers.
Of course, the Orioles could have added Scott, Adam, Erceg and vintage Mariano Rivera at the deadline and it still wouldn’t have helped much against Kansas City. The O’s lineup looked flummoxed and miserable the past two days, flailing at pitches outside the zone, desperate to hit a three-run homer with no one on base. In perhaps the lasting image of this series, Colton Cowser struck out swinging at a ball that hit him in the fifth inning with the bases loaded. Had he kept his bat on his shoulders, the Orioles would have taken the lead.
The O’s scored one run the entire series, running the organization’s playoff losing streak to 10 in the process. They never led and, dating back to last year’s sweep against Texas, have had the lead in just one inning in five postseason games. These don’t just feel like losses; they feel almost inevitable. That is what needs to change.
O’s became the 4th team to win ≥ 90 regular-season games, make the playoffs and go winless in the playoffs in consecutive seasons. Brewers are about to join them.
Others:
2021-22 Cardinals
2018-19 A’s
1969-70 Twins@Stathead— Rob Daniels (@oriolesfactoids) October 3, 2024
“Last year, Game 1 (we had an) opportunity, didn’t win, but then the next two kind of got out of hand,” Orioles manager Brandon Hyde said. “This year, you felt like these were two winnable games.”
The Orioles front office and coaches will spend a long time unpacking all the reasons they became a .500 team: injuries, underperformance, over-reliance on their young stars. The players, eyes red-rimmed and shocked, will retreat to their offseason homes and wonder what could have been.
“For it to happen two years in a row is a tough pill to swallow,” said first baseman Ryan Mountcastle, who, like many of his teammates, had no answers for how this team slid so far from July on. For how the entire lineup dipped in runs per game, slugging percentage, OPS and every other tangible metric as the season wore on.
Someone better find those answers. Next year, the Orioles won’t have ace Corbin Burnes — who came over last offseason in a fantastic trade by the front office — or Anthony Santander, who hit a team-leading 44 home runs and is also headed to free agency. Those are big shoes to fill.
Make no mistake: This is still a talented young team. But never has an offseason felt more critical. Never has there been a time to aggressively chase upgrades and not waste another year of a young, controllable, cheap core.
Windows change. Injuries happen; players age. The Orioles don’t even have to leave the division for proof of how quickly things can turn sour. Just look at the Toronto Blue Jays.
The front office has proved it can build a minor-league system and develop an enviable group of young, big-league talent. It has done a terrific job turning around an organization that was in dire straits. Now it’s time to figure out how to take the next step.
Good isn’t good enough anymore. And just getting to October can’t be, either.
(Photo: Patrick Smith / Getty Images)
AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries, by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.
For those of us in the national memory-keeping business, anniversaries hold near-totemic power. Satisfyingly round units of time, ideally bearing fancy, Latin-derived names, serve as the overburdened pegs on which to hang think pieces and museum exhibits, revisionist documentaries and maudlin public ceremonies. The arbitrary nature of such occasions is precisely what gives them their charge, inviting us to set aside complacency and submit to a comprehensive check-in.
In his new book, “America, U.S.A.,” Eddie S. Glaude Jr. presents an intriguing variation on the genre, seeing the country’s 250th birthday as an anniversary of anniversaries: 50 years since the malaise-ridden, schlock-heavy Bicentennial. A century since the subdued Prohibition-era Sesquicentennial. A century and a half since telegraphed reports of George Armstrong Custer’s defeat by the Lakota and Cheyenne at Little Bighorn rudely interrupted the Gilded Age Republic’s 100th birthday party.
If an anniversary offers a snapshot of a moment, the core of Glaude’s book is an old-timey photo album, a collection of notable episodes from earlier national reckonings, long-ago glances in the mirror. An estimable scholar of Black history, politics and religion at Princeton — best known for “Begin Again,” his 2020 meditation on James Baldwin’s relevance for our times — Glaude focuses, as his subtitle puts it, on “how race shadows the nation’s anniversaries.”
Such celebrations, he contends, have never really been the moments for honest self-reflection they are often advertised to be. Instead, the nation usually shatters the mirror, refusing to accept what it prefers not to see. “American anniversaries are often moments to turn a blind eye to the evils of the past and the present,” Glaude writes, “to suppress the fact of America’s divided soul.”
It’s a clever concept, and, needless to say, perfectly timed. Last year, Glaude notes, the Trump administration executed a hostile takeover of the government’s studiously bipartisan 250th anniversary planning. It is now preparing a program that is certain to conceal more than it reveals about the country ostensibly being celebrated.
Glaude, in no mood for celebration, argues that such omissions and evasions also defined commemorations in the past. In 1875, Frederick Douglass predicted “one grand Centennial hosannah of peace and good will to all the white race of this country.” He was right: The nation reached 100 years old at a crucial moment in the post-Civil War fight over racial equality, with white Northerners ready to give up on Southern Reconstruction. The occasion would help the once-warring sections to reunite around a shared commitment to white supremacy. On May 10, 1876, at the opening of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, the police tried to bar Douglass from the grandstand, until a white politician vouched for him.
The 150th anniversary came soon after a resurgent Ku Klux Klan successfully pushed for a restrictive immigration law aimed at keeping America a “Nordic” nation. At the lavishly funded, lightly attended celebrations in Philadelphia, Black veterans of World War I were excluded from marching in the opening parade. A writer with The Associated Negro Press wondered “what was in the breast of those black men who fought to make America safe for Democracy and on Monday stood on the sidelines, forgotten, as the Nordic strode by in all his vain pride.”
By 1976, when the nation marked its Bicentennial, the violence of the ’60s had destroyed any semblance of consensus. Vietnam and Watergate had eroded trust in the government. The commission initially tasked with organizing the anniversary was disbanded amid reports of corruption. Corporations filled the vacuum, Glaude explains, with “star-spangled whoopee cushions; patriotic toilet seats; Liberty hamburgers; red, white and blue beer cans.” The author, around 8 years old at the time, dimly remembers donning a pair of tricolor trousers.
A half-century later, Glaude is refreshingly honest about the depths of his despair. “I do not love America, and never have, especially now,” he writes in one of the more startling opening sentences I’ve read in some time. He dismisses this year’s Semiquincentennial as reaching back “to a storybook America that requires either the banishment of Black people from view or the reduction of our role in the country’s history, so as to affirm America’s ongoing quest to be a more perfect union.”
Undoubtedly true. But Trump doesn’t own the country, at least not yet, nor the 250th anniversary of one of the most radically liberatory and confusingly contradictory events in world history — an inspiration, as Glaude shows, even to critical observers of the American experiment, like Douglass. Far from the revanchist MAGA-palooza in Washington, I suspect this summer’s unasked-for invitation to national soul-searching may surprise us yet.
Despite his despair, Glaude concludes that “the past still offers resources for us to freedom-dream.” So, too, does this book.
AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries | By Eddie S. Glaude Jr. | Crown | 270 pp. | $31
Take me to visit a dysfunctional family with oceanfront real estate
by Meg Mitchell Moore
Moore is a dependable ingredient in any summer reading soufflé. Her airy novels accomplish what they came to do: entertain and transport, without the pyrotechnics of, say, books that eschew quotation marks. In “Down With the Shipmans,” three sisters, laden with baggage, converge on their late mother’s beach cottage, only to learn that their father and his much younger wife are planning to sell the place.
The stakes are high, the drama is juicy and the views are sublime. Moore even provides two beach dogs — Leo (an unruly pit bull mix) and Cinnamon (“golden retriever, red bandanna, long pink tongue”) — to keep things lively. (Comes out June 2)
new video loaded: The A.I. threat to audiobooks
By Alexandra Alter, Léo Hamelin and Laura Salaberry
May 20, 2026
-
New York1 hour agoGov. Sherrill Demands Access to ICE Facility as Hunger Strike Widens
-
Los Angeles, Ca2 hours agoL.A. man, 36, drowns near Lake Tahoe over Memorial Day weekend
-
Detroit, MI2 hours agoMetro Detroit woman threatens to leave gym over burkinis
-
San Francisco, CA2 hours agoAlcatraz City Cruises ferry slams into SF’s Pier 31, shattering passenger windows
-
Dallas, TX2 hours agoDallas Symphony Orchestra announces free 2026 Parks Concert Series
-
Miami, FL2 hours agoCarlos Vives Pours Colombian Pride Into Miami With Tour Al Sol: ‘It Is Important to Be in This City’
-
Boston, MA2 hours agoBoston EMS Superintendent-in-Chief dies after 40 years with the department
-
Denver, CO3 hours ago3 types of trades the Denver Nuggets could make this offseason
