Like many an insecure overthinker, I like to fancy myself as a cynical optimist. That is, I can’t help but feel cynical about the systems set in place that keep our societies running, while remaining optimistic in the idea that people are generally good, and want to do right by each other individually, and even on larger scales. That final bit of the idea has become more difficult to espouse in recent years, but I soldier on.

 

In a world in which the idea of community is being stripped down to the screws and sold for parts in every walk of life, be it the restaurant industry, local journalism, or even your favorite social media platform that is now finally living up to its longtime reputation as a #hellsite, the race to the bottom in which the consumer gets left with an inferior product, and our corporate overlords fight for the scraps of whatever profitability they can squeeze from us is in full swing. Still, I have hope that we collectively will figure things out. This is a hope that isn’t necessarily rooted in fact, but rather in my general sense of optimism in the power of the person, the individual, to fight for what they’re worth, and achieve something of a fair shake.

 

This is an idea that’s especially difficult to hold fast to as things become more all-or-nothing than they’ve ever been in a modern society that’s grappling with the rise of big tech and the death of the middle class, but alas, I hold onto it. Part of why I’m able to do so is both the small and large examples of an authentically made, high quality product reaching through the noise and connecting with an audience it was made for in the face of every popular economic indicator saying that it shouldn’t.

 

Some of my favorite examples of these things might be products or services that you’re familiar with. A local coffee shop, still yet to be franchised. The family-owned restaurant that’s survived the last few turbulent years, and still provides a top-notch product and experience geared towards their customer. The 2023 Baltimore Orioles. And on, down the list.

 

The idea that this installment of the Orioles speaks to me in such a way is a tad ironic, and maybe a bit fictitious, if I’m being honest with myself. Yale graduate Mike Elias, and his top lieutenant in former NASA engineer Sig Mejdal are well schooled in the exercise of analytically driven rebuilds of sports’ franchises, having been involved in the art of executing them going all the way back to the early days of our now post “Moneyball” world. What they did in St. Louis, Houston, and now our beloved Charm City aren’t all that ideologically different from ripping a business down to its studs, and rebuilding, and then running it in an all-or-nothing fashion.

 

But there is a difference between what they’ve done, and what someone like our friends over at a place like Alden Capital have done to the state of local journalism, and it’s a key one. In this world of pristinely constructed computer models telling Mike and Sig what move to make and when, regardless of what their emotions are telling them to do, the final result has finally led to something very notable: a better experience for the consumer of the product. That is to say, us.

 

I won’t pretend like it’s been an easy road, and that’s especially true for the Baltimore-based baseball sicko, the person who’s watched every second they could of this rebuild from it’s origins back in 2019, all the way up until now. To be perfectly candid, I tuned them out for stretches over this period of time, and that’s because I knew I could; because I knew that despite the long-term philosophy being a sound one, that the product put onto the diamond in ’19, ’20, ’21, and even ’22 wasn’t one that was being assembled in good faith to go win something. Often, the aforementioned baseball sicko bemoaned this fact all the while tuning into watch said product for multiple nights a week, and he or she were right to bemoan it.

 

But thus far, 2023 has been the reward they were owed for sticking through it, and my goodness it’s been a damn good one. While this team isn’t perfect – their middle relief options, and bottom of the batting order stick out as pain points – they have the makeup of a squad that can compete with anyone in the majors. Their 56 wins as of July 16th (good for third in MLB, and 2nd in the AL) speak to that, as does the seven-game win streak they’re currently on dating back to before the All-Star Break.

 

Perhaps concerning is the fact that their +52 run differential is good for only fifth (lol) in the majors, and markedly below Texas (+158), Tampa Bay (+156), Atlanta (+155), and also trailing the Dodgers with +86. Some of this can probably be chalked up to their 11th ranked strength of schedule thus far, but things do get more difficult from here with Tankathon ranking their remaining slate as seventh hardest across the bigs. Having a shaky pitching rotation at every level except for the late relief options will ensure that you’re going to be in some close games, so the run differential is less concerning considering the fact that the Orioles probably know who they are at this point; that is, a young, energetic outfit that’s built to scrap and claw their way out of difficult situations, earning them a reputation this season as comeback kids.

 

And in the humble opinion of yours truly, the kids are alright. For four years, we as a fanbase waited for the fruits of this tank job (or perhaps more kindly put, “youth movement”) to bear, and through the back half of the fun but shaky 2022 season, all the way up until today as you read this, they’ve begun to do so in fantastic fashion. So when I say that the more soulless and craven ideas of the Moneyball rooted rebuilds at the very least give way to something well made, authentic, and inarguably a great final product for the everyman, this is what I mean.

 

The silky smooth and effortlessly affable Adley Rutschman is the face of this final product, one that doesn’t end with his brilliant talents and leadership by example, but merely begins with it. Behind him you have the similarly high pedigree and relentless passion of Gunnar Henderson, the quirk and charm of prospects finally called up to make good on their promise like Colton Cowser and Jordan Westburg, and the hope represented in what we all want to see in a soon-to-be-brought back to the majors reboot of Grayson Rodriguez.

 

And those are just some of the bigger names of this aforementioned youth movement. Not to be outdone is the quietly steady beating heart of this ballclub in Cedric Mullins, who represents the virtues of humility and patience that young kids just getting into baseball will grow up to be better for having followed a guy like him. Ditto for Austin Hays who’s been around the organization on a similar timeline, and suffered similar slumps and injury spells on his way to an unlikely, and amazing run for an All-Star bid this year.

 

And speaking of All-Stars, there may be no better American success stories wearing this uniform this right now than Felix Bautista and Yennier Cano, the former of whom grit and ground his way through just about every level of the organization over the last seven years on his way to becoming the best closer in the sport, and the latter of whom went from being an afterthought piece of a controversial trade (that was perhaps correctly viewed as a soulless asset grab representative of the least palatable characteristics of Moneyball) to an unlikely All-Star in his own right, the swaggering robin to Bautista’s quietly powerful Batman.

 

And in writing this piece highlighting the power of the person vs. the pitfalls of the systems that the person operates in, it’s these guys who I want to highlight as the shining examples of the fact that hard work done in good faith can still be rewarded. Elias is owed his tip of the cap, and I certainly will send one his way. But at the end of the day, the main thing I’ve taken away from his work over the last four years is that hard work and talent can always win out, and all said talent needs is a shot to showcase what they can do - something Elias has received some deserved flak for not providing enough of, at least in a timely fashion.

 

In this case, the talent he’s pooled together (including manager Brandon Hyde, a charmingly rough around the edges baseball man) has worked collectively to put on a product that people from a small market town like ours can take civic pride in. One that we can get together and root on, despite all that’s going on around us, or whatever our opinions of the methods in which they were assembled. We do this because we have hope; hope that for the first time in exactly 40 years, this will be one in which our faith is finally rewarded.

 

And with attendance on the slow but steady rise, merchandise and jersey sales (sorry Eric) through the roof compared to the doldrums of the rebuild, and the loosely defined air of Orioles magic permeating through the atmosphere at Camden Yards on many a given day or night, the throughline is the hope of all the possibilities still on the table. And maybe that’s something that Elias and Sig, or Rob Manfred, or even our societal puppet masters driving us towards what appears at times to be a bleak future can take away from situation like the one we as a fanbase are currently blessed to be sitting in.

 

That the greatest driver of consumer investment, of societal performance, and (the end-all-be-all for some) profitability, is hope. Maybe this isn’t our year – given how seasons usually end for even the best of ballclubs, the odds aren’t in our favor. But you’re damn right I hope it will be, and believe that it can. And it’s for that reason that I’ll be tuning in where I can, attending games whenever possible, and supporting this special group of players until the very final out of the 2023 season.

 

In sports, one KPI rules above all the others, and that’s wins. And the rising tide of winning lifts all boats towards better performance in ancillary areas. In a word, the profits trickle down. And whether the beneficiary is we as a fanbase, the front office led by Elias, the forward facing owner figure who has some trouble keeping his foot out of his mouth from time to time, is irrelevant. Because at the end of the day, we all want the same thing, regardless of the reasons. And it’s that fact that makes this exceptional group of players competing for a pennant this year, and hopefully every year moving forward, something everyone at every level of our community here can get behind.

 

And it’s why there’s only one thing left to do: