deteriorating as was their collective future with the Orioles. On Aug. 27, Miller called the clubhouse “dysfunctional” in the media and Wren answered by pointing to a series of pitching statistics that indicated the Orioles should be performing better on the field.
As a first-year GM working under an owner who seemingly had a greater ear for sage “advisor” Syd Thift and his two sons, John and Louis, on personnel matters, Wren tried to improve the team throughout the year. He brought in starting pitcher Jason Johnson from Detroit and acquired veteran Jeff Conine from Kansas City. In June, Wren drafted second baseman Brian Roberts with the 50th pick and found a lefty pitcher from Canada named Erik Bedard in the sixth round.
Wren also twice called Angelos when the team got off to a wretched start in an effort to fire Ray Miller but was told by the owner that he wasn’t allowed to do it. No matter how bad the team was on the field or how crazy some of the things Miller said to the press after tough losses, he was “untouchable” because Angelos liked him and hired him. And Wren, who was clearly lied to by Angelos about his level of influence in the organization during the recruiting process, was essentially as powerless as Pat Gillick was before him.
Early in the disastrous season, after an April 25th meltdown by Mike Timlin when the Orioles staff walked 14 batters, the skipper abruptly cleared his desk and screamed at the media, “Go ask the goddamned players. They’re the ones making all the money!” Wren wanted to make the managerial change that day when the team slipped to 4-14. The Orioles were also 36-51 at the All Star break and Wren once again broached the subject with Angelos only to be rebuffed.
For Wren, his relationship with Angelos was beyond reparable but he had two years left on his deal. He experienced every single nightmare that Gillick and everyone before him had warned him about when it came to working as a baseball executive for King Peter.
After a strange early September run when the Orioles somehow won 12 games in a row, the 1999 team finished 78-84, a full 20 games behind the New York Yankees. Yet even through two losing seasons with the highest payroll in the sport, Ray Miller thought his managerial job was safe during the last week of the year. “I trust completely in Mr. Angelos,” Miller said. “This team has tremendous direction right now. For the first time there’s a little light under the door.”
Three days after the end of the season, Angelos informed the media that he had allowed the contract of Ray Miller to “expire.” So instead of “firing” his manager, he simply didn’t renew the contract during its 72-hour window. To a lawyer, this was a logical explanation of the proceedings. And Angelos scoffed at the term “firing” in regard to Miller.
The next day, Frank Wren was not only fired – or “terminated” as the letter read – he was also publicly flogged and humiliated in a letter signed by team president Joe Foss but given the previous missives handed to the media for recitation, it was clearly written and executed by Peter G. Angelos.
The team’s bizarre press release indicted Wren for leaving Cal Ripken behind on a road trip to Anaheim on Sept. 17. In the history of sports, no general manager has ever seen an itemization of such an act in the newspaper the next day upon being “terminated” but here’s what the memorandum said on Orioles letterhead:
“Cal Ripken, traveling from his home to meet the team’s privately chartered jet for an 8 a.m. flight to a game later that night in Anaheim, found himself delayed in congested traffic. He called the team’s traveling secretary, Phil Itzoe, by car phone to assure him that he would be arriving at the airport within the next five to 10 minutes. Itzoe relayed this information to Wren, who declared he would not wait beyond the scheduled departure time.
“At Wren’s order, the plane took off without Cal, who arrived at the gate a few minutes later. Cal was then forced to make his own cross-country travel arrangements. He had to hurry to the Washington, D.C., airport, where he found a flight to Vegas and then had to take another flight to California, arriving hours after the team.
“In the opinion of management, there was no need for such an arbitrary and inflexible decision. In the meeting, Wren defiantly dismissed our concerns, characterized them as ‘silly’ and insisted he would invoke the same takeoff order no matter what the extenuating circumstances. The Orioles management cannot and will not abide having a general manager operate in such an unreasonable, authoritarian manner and treat anyone this way, especially someone such as Cal who has done so much for the Orioles and for baseball.”
Strangely enough, the same press release also said:
“Ray Miller is a gentleman and a fine baseball man, and I appreciate his efforts and the contributions he has made over the years to the Orioles organization. My best wishes go out to him in his future endeavors.”
Angelos had owned the team for six seasons and had now chased away three general managers (Roland Hemond, Pat Gillick and Frank Wren) and three other assistant general managers (Frank Robinson, Doug Melvin and Kevin Malone). And the day before, he’d fired his fourth manager in six seasons.
Of course, he characterized it differently. “It’s one more little bump in the road on the way to establishing a successful operation that will produce what we all desire – a winner,” Angelos said.
The strange memo released to the media with the Ripken story was only part of the
