You have to feel sorry for the Orioles. They can't catch a break.

First, they had to hit against the incomparable Brian Tallet. Now it's Shaun Marcum.



At least they get a breather tomorrow with Roy Halladay.

The Wizards won't match the Knicks five-year, $30 million offer sheet to former No. 1 pick Jared Jeffries.

I'm guessing that decision took about five seconds to make.

Maybe four.

After reviewing all of your entries and suggestions for "Worst Orioles Pitcher Ever," and we still need a sponsor, I've come to one obvious conclusion: A list of 10 isn't long enough.

How could I have forgotten Darren Holmes? I can still see him entering a game in Atlanta, watching him get lit up again, and having to recalculate his ERA. I got so frustrated, I contacted NASA.

And how did Omar Daal slip through the cracks in my brain? Bad contract, bad pitcher. We're not talking Omar the Out-Maker. The guy was either terrible or injured. Sometimes both.

Others were also fat (see: Sid Fernandez). Or perfect after they left (Don Larsen). Or chubby but fun to be around (Steve Kline). Or so nice, you hated to see them fail (Terry Mathews, Mike Trombley, Mike Timlin, Jim Brower, Shawn Boskie).

I love how Manny Alexander snuck onto the list. But you have to admit, he was a better pitcher than pinch-runner.

Larsen's stats in 1954 probably make him the leading candidate. Russ Ortiz looks at those numbers and cringes.

As Jessica pointed out, we could make up a list using only the '98 staff.

Larry brought up Dickie Noles in '88. I guess I blocked out everything and everyone associated with that season.

The list should be restricted to modern-day Orioles - no St. Louis Browns allowed - and can't include anyone who had even the smallest amount of success. That eliminates guys like Sidney Ponson and Armando Benitez.


I still feel sorry for Mathews. The bullpen gates swung open during a game in the '97 American League Championship Series, and fans booed him before he even stepped foot on the field.

I was assigned to write a sidebar that night - a feature that serves as sort of an extension of the game story - and volunteered to interview Mathews. It required a delicate touch, and sending a reporter who didn't normally cover the team would have been a mistake. I had a great relationship with Mathews, as did just about everyone who hung around the clubhouse, and he really opened up that night.

In explaining how his appearance turned fans against him as much as his poor outings, he said, "I can't help it that God didn't give me Eric Davis' body."

I couldn't help but root for the guy.