generously. We pay what is generous and proper. I think $72 million to Mussina is plenty of money to Mussina.”
Angelos was brazen in regard to his feelings toward the media and the fans.
“We know [the media’s] intentions are good, but we can’t let you substitute your judgment for ours,” said Angelos. “We don’t think you know it all. We think there are times when you’re wrong just like we know there are times when we’re wrong.
“I tell you what: You can trust in our judgment. It’s pretty good. We’ve gotten this far. We’re going to go even further. Just be a little patient, I think you’ll be delighted with the results.”
On October 26, 2000, the New York Yankees won the World Series – again.
It was their fourth title in five years. George Steinbrenner continued his mastery of the mind games – and the field games – with Peter G. Angelos. He was also making a lot more money owning a Major League Baseball team, which really ate at Angelos.
On October 27, Mussina filed for free agency.
On October 28, the phone rang in the kitchen of Mussina’s house in Montoursville. When Mussina’s wife Jana answered the phone during dinner, she told Mike it was Joe Torre.
Mussina, in a word, was stunned.
Just 48 hours removed from winning a World Series, a very convivial Torre told Mussina that he wouldn’t have to live in Manhattan, that few of the Yankees players ever went into the big city because they lived in New Jersey or on the New York state side away from the bright lights and sprawl of the tall buildings of Gotham. Mussina, who as an All Star had shared a locker room with Torre at the Midsummer Classic, listened and was truly flattered that the Yankees manager thought enough to call him and simply add a human touch. Moose was a small town guy, a no-nonsense guy who appreciated this level of respect and civility.
Torre invited Mussina to reach to any of the Yankees players for more information. It was a soft sell, really, just a 10-minute phone call. Torre simply wanted Mussina to know that he would love to have a happy version of the Stanford grad in The Bronx.
Much like what they were doing on the field, the Yankees were willing to do what the Orioles organization never did. They cared. The manager cared. The Yankees wanted Mike Mussina. The Orioles owner was on the radio dogging his contributions and holding the line on money amidst a sea of chaos in Baltimore.
For Mussina, who had tried unsuccessfully to beat the pinstripers each year, the many obvious successes and parades of the New York Yankees left clues. They were a first-class organization, with first-class people.
Mussina called around and heard it from players within his reach who had played in New York and elsewhere in the league. The Yankees got things done. Despite his reputation, if Steinbrenner came into the clubhouse and a whirlpool was broken, the next day there was new whirlpool. In Baltimore, if something was broken, the owner wanted to litigate. He’d want to sue the Maryland Stadium Authority for a comparable situation with the Ravens.
George Steinbrenner wanted to win and he did. Peter Angelos wanted to fight and negotiate and litigate and win every battle while losing every war.
While the Yankees were winning the World Series and the Red Sox along with new owner (and former “partner” in 1993) Larry Lucchino were grooming a twenty-something general manager in Theo Epstein, the Orioles had a pair of 71-year old fossils in Syd Thrift and Peter Angelos running the team.
Not only did they not have a clue; they didn’t have a plan. Thrift couldn’t work a computer and didn’t even have a cell phone.
The Yankees wanted Mussina. Joe Torre calling was just the appetizer. They were looking to replace David Cone and Denny Neagle with one of the top arms in baseball. And, more than that, instead of jerking him around and offering $65 million to the likes of Albert Belle and then lowballing him – essentially taking advantage of his willingness and initial desire to stay with the Orioles – it was Angelos who declared a price ceiling and that if Mussina’s value in the marketplace was greater, well…then, he could be invited to go pitch elsewhere.
The Yankees had Andy Pettite, Roger Clemens, Orlando “El Duque” Hernandez, Mariano Rivera. Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Paul O’Neill, David Justice, Alfonso Soriano, Tino Martinez, Jorge Posada and four rings in five years.
The Orioles had Brook Fordyce, Jerry Hairston, Jeff Conine, Delino DeShields, Tony Batista and a pair of broken-down veterans in Brady Anderson and Cal Ripken. Mussina had now made 100 starts since his last meaningful game in October 1997 vs. Cleveland in the ALCS.
Mussina wanted to pitch in big games, with big stakes and he wanted to win a World Series.
Angelos told WBAL that the Orioles were going with their youth in 2001. And in the AL East, that meant they weren’t serious about winning.
Mussina was no one’s fool. He pressed Thrift and Angelos for a “road map” for the future of the Orioles and was rebuffed. Mussina, as a player rep, knew all about the old-world of MLB ownership and the arrogance. But he figured if they were willing to offer
