Sometimes marriages aren't made in heaven. But they still work out. That's what Sammy Sosa and the Orioles hope, anyway.
For four months, ever since Sosa went AWOL in the final game of last season at Wrigley Field, thus burning the last bridge between himself and the Cubs, he has sat in limbo with a "For Trade, Cheap" sign on him. Yet, even with the Cubs willing to pay $10 million of his $17.5 million contract for this season, there has been nary a taker for the only man to hit 60 homers three times.
One team after another passed on Sosa. Was it his infamous corked bat or his trip to the disabled list last year because of a sneeze? Was it his feud with Dusty Baker, a fellow so mellow that he managed Barry Bonds successfully? Or was it Sosa's reputation, deserved or not, as the next player who might show up at spring training "Giambized" in this tougher steroid-test era.
Meanwhile, the Orioles were in similar misery. If Sosa was the ex-superstar that nobody wanted, even though he hit 35 homers last season, then the Orioles were the team that every free agent left at the altar. Finally, last week, after Carlos Delgado stunned Baltimore by choosing Florida over Camden Yards, the Orioles and Sosa were drawn together by their mutual misery and public embarrassment.
When all else fails, by definition, you take what's left. After all, what else can you do?
So, in a deal drenched with irony, the Orioles are trading by default for one of the most famous, and at times beloved, players of the current era. As last-resort, face-saving, placate-the-public baseball deals are measured, this is as good as they get.
Be happy. Be entertained. Sammy, at 36, drags a caravan of baseball baggage behind him. He's no in-his-prime Delgado, but he's vastly better than nothing. At least if you tell your friends you kept your Orioles tickets, they won't laugh in your face now.
Trading for Sosa may not be the way to rebuild a losing franchise. And the question of who makes important front-office decisions, owner Peter Angelos or his co-general managers, is now wide open once again. However, in their battle with the new Washington Nationals for TV eyeballs and box seat fannies, the Orioles are now must-see reality programming.
Sometimes it takes courage to admit you've messed up your sensible options so badly that you simply have to roll the dice and take a chance. Or maybe it just requires desperation. Either way, it's better than being frozen by failure and doing nothing.
Now, presumably because a frustrated and badgered Angelos grabbed the steering wheel, the Orioles can wave one winter prize.
At a reasonable price, and for a short contract, the Orioles get a drawing card who will always be remembered as one of baseball's most vivid personalities. And they get Sosa with two years of Wrigley bitterness still in his mouth. The Dominican wants to redeem his name. Whether the right fielder still has the skills is a moot point. But if he does, the Orioles have a steal.
The slugger who hit 66, 63 and 64 homers and drove in 158, 141, 138 and 160 runs, is presumably gone for good. But the Sosa of two years ago would still be a bonanza. That fellow hit 40 homers, drove in 103 and blew kisses to fans as the Cubs almost won the NL pennant. Of course, he was also criticized for 143 strikeouts and erratic base running and fielding. However, fans in Camden Yards won't carry memories of Sosa at his peak. To them, 33 heart taps, not 66, may be enough.
Far from the high expectations of the suddenly Unfriendly Confines, can Sammy rediscover his joy?
If he doesn't, it won't be a disaster for the Orioles. No matter what he does, even if he disrupts the clubhouse with prima donna behavior, as some teammates said he did in Chicago, Sosa won't even be able to budge the needle on the legendary Oriole Blunder Meter where signing Albert Belle for five years for $65 million scores a perfect "10." In fact, Sammy's biceps have been so scrutinized in recent years that, if he can still make a muscle when he reports to camp, some cynics will be surprised.
If the Orioles had sacrificed signing a Delgado, Carlos Beltran, Adrian Beltre or Carl Pavano to take a chance on the controversial Sosa, that would have been ridiculous. But they didn't. By accident, after everybody the Orioles wanted was off the market, Sosa was still there -- going begging.
All the Orioles had to do to get him was run the risk of looking foolish and desperate by trading for a player nobody else in baseball would touch. What's that to the Orioles? After the players, managers and general managers they've driven away, not to mention that announcer -- what's his name -- Miller, you don't have to worry about your dignity any more.
Sometimes, the truth helps, even as it hurts. As the Cubs dangled Sosa for months, they had to face the truth. No contending team will touch such a risky aging star with so much young, unburdened talent on the market. No bad team would build around a 36-year-old slugger whose stats and durability have dwindled the last three years. And no poor team could afford Sosa's salary, no matter how much of it the Cubs swallowed.
So, that left the Orioles, the team that had been shut out all winter in the free agent market and needed to hold its irate fan base against the arriving Washington Nationals.
Of course, savvy Oriole fans are only going to be partially assuaged by acquiring another hitter, even if he fits nicely in a potentially powerful heart of the order that includes Melvin Mora (.340), Miguel Tejada (150 RBI) and Javy Lopez (.316). As one fan moaned on an Orioles Internet site, "Sammy Sosa? I just want a starting pitcher. Is that so wrong?"
It's not wrong. But, for now, it's not possible. So, the Sosa trade becomes a litmus test of fans' ability to "love the one you're with" until, someday, you get the ones you want.
For many years, loving Sosa was one of the easiest jobs in baseball. Can it be so again?
When Sosa sprints to right field in Baltimore, perhaps he should squint his eyes so the scene before him blurs a bit. There's a big old-fashioned clock in center field and the bleachers beyond right field were specifically built to evoke Wrigley Field.
Maybe Sammy can't go home again, back to 60 homers, national adulation and a pristine reputation. But he and the Orioles hope they can concoct a modest replica of that past. Such a thing would surely be in tune with the spirit of Camden Yards.