pepper hair and “sage” appeal. And at this point his two sons, John and Louis, were enamored with baseball and attempting to get involved in the actual business of Major League Baseball to learn the trade. In some cases, the senior Angelos liked whatever the boys liked, especially on the field, at this point in their relationship.
But now into their fifth year of ownership of the franchise, the Angelos family track record was being established. Angelos would appoint his brother-in-law Lou Kousouris to a key front office position. Both of his boys were given titles. His wife held court inside The Warehouse and had strong opinions about trivial items like decorations around the office and hospitality.
And, of course, Peter G. Angelos ran the kingdom.
He would overrule his general manager. He would publicly (and privately) flog his field managers. He would openly opine about players’ performance, roles and effort while freely making positional demands. He would dine with the superstar player and legend, Cal Ripken, yet had never met any of the rank and file players. He would sit with others, like Brady Anderson, one his personal favorites, over an Italian dinner at Boccacio’s and discuss contract parameters and expectations. And he would anoint pitching coaches, broadcasters and managers. And then he would come to his handful of “friends” in the media – and only the ones who weren’t critical and pledged silence for access – with pronouncements, faxes, statements, observations, demands and decrees.
Anyone who would dare speak, write or criticize any of his actions or pronouncements was intimidated, verbally attacked or simply thrown out or fired.
And any advice from his senior baseball officials was simply rendered as a mere suggestion. After Davey Johnson departed via a resignation fax on the day he was named “Manager of the Year,” general manager Pat Gillick and assistant general manager Kevin Malone recommended that Angelos hire retained hitting coach Rick Down as the new manager of the Orioles.
The next day, Angelos named Ray Miller the new manager of the Orioles.
Miller inherited a talented, expensive mess heading into the 1998 season. The Rabbit was handpicked by an increasingly itchy, novice owner – one who’d just chased away an extremely competent, successful manager. Miller was to be expected to exceed Johnson’s performance and get the team over the hump and into the World Series – not sometime in the near future, but right now.
Miller was heads up in his approach with Angelos and knew his role. “I have that all worked out,” Miller said when asked about his relationship with Angelos. “There will be more communication. If a man is paying $60 million (it was actually more than $80 million) like he did last year and wants to know about his team, he has a right to know about his team.”
Angelos didn’t part ways with Davey Johnson for incompetence or lack of results. He simply didn’t like Johnson. And Angelos didn’t like losing. And Angelos wouldn’t accept second place.
Anything short of a World Series would be a disappointment.
But no one was feeling particularly great in 1998.
If the 1997 season was a dream year right up until the Benitez nightmare then the following year was the cold reality of a fresh start – again with a new manager – and a roster teetering on the brink of chaos.
The team was still reporting to spring training in a dump in Fort Lauderdale for six weeks, which did nothing for basic morale during a bonding time for all the players in the organization to feel a part of the team. The Camden Yards crowd, following Angelos’ lead and words, was tired of losing at the end of a promising season. Prices were also rising for the experience of
