Sports Illustrated has noticed, and most of the beat writers have posted notice on their Sunday morning baseball pages. Yet all you have to do is go to Camden Yards and you’ll hear it. Listen, and you will hear the realization that president of baseball operations Andy MacPhail has fleeced the Seattle Mariners in much the same manner his dad, Lee MacPhail, did other big league clubs in the 1960s when he ran the Baltimore Orioles.
It’s also rather easy to see and feel when Adam Jones is doing anything on the field, whether it’s running down a flyball anywhere in the outfield (corner outfielders beware), or terrorizing the base paths — even when he overslides a base on a steal attempt. You watch him, and you watch his every movement, because he is a baseball player you cannot take your eyes off of.
Still just 23 years of age and still growing at 6-2, 210 pounds, Jones’ presence demands your attention. When he approaches the plate the sense that something exciting is about to happen envelops the ballpark. Something’s generating, and it’s about to take off. Then you listen, and you hear it. You don’t even have to watch to know Adam Jones is the hitter, although you’d be wise to, not only for what you’ll see, but for precautionary measures as well.
The sound of the ball that now comes off of Jones’ bat is something I’ve not heard since I attended my first big-league game in 1966. Of course, to a seven-year-old, hearing horsehide meet wood for the first time in a big-league setting is magic, whether the result is a home run or a foul pop-up. Yet the last time I truly remember hearing the amplified crack that came off of Adam Jones’ bat last month at Camden Yards was in 1966 when Frank Robinson hit a booming home run to left-center field of Memorial Stadium off of the Indians’ Jim Landis. I had not heard that true sound of baseball love in 43 years, but now delight in knowing I can make the two-hour drive to West Camden Street anytime I want to hear it again and again.
Never for a moment believe the acoustics of the game don’t play a huge role in how it is played. When the experienced outfielder hears a “crack” of the bat he runs out; if he hears a “clunk” he runs in. When the outfielder heard the “explosion” of Jones’ bat that day, he ran for cover. The ball shot down the line and into the left-field corner so quickly Jones had to slide into second to make sure he wasn’t thrown out on what would have been a routine stand-up double had he not hit the ball so fiercely.
It’s the sweetest and most exhilarating sound there is. It’s the Army cannon and the Navy flyover happening simultaneously prior to the Army-Navy game. It’s Roy Hobbs knocking the glass out of the center-field clock. It’s a magnetic force on every eye in the ballpark, and when you hear it all you can do is stand up and scream at the top of you lungs.
Did you see that?
Better. I heard it.
Orioles fans would be hard-pressed to admit they’ve been lucky about anything the past 11 years, but they’re downright lucky right now to have Jones and Nick Markakis — two strikingly different ballplayers — anchoring their batting order and outfield for years to come. In the Baltimore lineup with Jones and Markakis batting second and third, the storm comes before the calm, as quiet is the only way to describe everything about Markakis’ game, beginning with his beautiful stroke and extending to the outfield where his natural and easy attributes belie the hard work that will make him a star for years to come.
As for Jones, it is downright scary exciting to consider the possibilities. As MacPhail said in Sports Illustrated, most of the so-called five-tool players realistically materialize into two-tool players, and you’re delighted to have those. You just sense, however, that Jones will not only maintain all five tools (hit, hit for power, speed, arm strength, defense), but refine them through a very long and very significant big-league career. He was impressive last year in his first full big-league season. He is so much better this season, yet he hasn’t even scratched the surface of how great he can be.
Last year when it was becoming apparent the Orioles had something special in the making in center field, a friend of mine said, “Jones could be a Frank Robinson-type for the Orioles.” I suggested we wait a few years, a Triple Crown, a few World Series titles and 586 home runs before we send the youngster off to Cooperstown.
Yet the more an Orioles fan looks at Andy MacPhail’s trade of starter Erik Bedard for reliever George Sherrill, minor league pitchers Kameron Mickolio, Chris Tillman, and Tony Butler, and outfielder Adam Jones, one can’t help but at least think about Dec. 9, 1965 when Orioles general manager Harry Dalton pulled the trigger on a deal that had been put into place by his predecessor, sending pitchers Milt Pappas and Jack Baldschun and outfielder Dick Simpson to Cincinnati for an “old-30” outfielder by the name of Robinson.
The man who put that deal and Baltimore baseball history on Dalton’s desk was Andy MacPhail’s dad.
Mike Burke is sports editor of the Cumberland Times-News. Contact Mike Burke at mburke@times-news.com.
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