If it weren’t so obviously cruel, we’d take this space to re-baptize the Baltimore Birds the “Showalters” — in the belief that the Orioles of the last twenty years would soon reflect the go-get-’em attitude of their new manager. But even Showalter (a veteran of turnarounds in Arizona, New York and Texas), is willing to admit that it will take more than a new manager to turn around the ailing Orioles: it will take good starting pitching, a revamped bullpen, eight fielders who know their business (and can swing a bat) — and a change in attitude that has been sorely lacking in Baltimore for the last two decades. It will take, as Showalter says, little “golden nuggets” that Showalter will sift out of the detritus that has become Baltimore’s soiled nest. “There isn’t anything too complicated about this,” Showalter said at his introductory news conference. Well, he oughta know.

Showalter comes with a reputation for being a “the ultimate baseball perfectionist” with “a militaristic attention to detail.” Not surprisingly, he’s made some enemies. In his first managing job in New York, Showalter did things his way, to the great irritation of owner George Steinbrenner. Worse yet, back in 1995 — when Steinbrenner put enormous pressure on Showalter to win, he did: but not enough for George. Then too, Showalter was getting more attention than “the Boss,” a line that Yankee managers knew they should never cross. And so it was that eventually Showalter resigned — after refusing Steinbrenner’s orders to dismiss two of his coaches. But Buck he didn’t go quietly. In the wake of his resignation, Showalter called Steinbrenner “Fidel” and said that sitting next to him on a team charter was “the worst flight I ever had.” The quotes ended up in the New York Times. Steinbrenner was enraged, though not because Showalter compared him to Castro (he probably liked that), but because he’d gotten the last word. Steinbrenner didn’t know the half of it. When “the boss” died earlier this summer, Showalter praised him, called him a friend, and then paid a compliment — to himself: “I was one of the managers he never fired. I resigned because he wanted to get rid of my coaches. He knew where people’s buttons were, and mine were loyalty to my coaches.” Rest In Peace, George.

The Steinbrenner-Showalter saga is certainly known to Orioles’ owner Peter Angelos (whom Birdland fans blame for the demise of their “once proud franchise”), so it might be considered a testament to Angelos that he would hire Showalter anyway. But Showalter’s enemy’s list (“He never even smelled a jock in the big leagues,” current Pale Hose manager Ozzie Guillen once said. “Mr. Baseball never even got a hit in Triple-A. I was a better player than him, I have more money than him and I’m better looking than him”), is complemented by more than a handful of detractors who claim that “the smartest man in the room” is overrated. These detractors point out that while Showalter is given credit for turning around the last place Arizona Diamondbacks, the real credit (they say), should actually go to D-Backs owner Jerry Colangelo. Colangelo signed Randy Johnson, Todd Stottlemyre and Steve Finley to lead the team into 1999 — and into first place in the N.L. West. But this isn’t damning with faint praise, it’s faint damning with just the right praise: Showalter knew his team wasn’t going to win with Andy Benes, Alan Embree and Devon White and he made that clear to Colangelo in the off-season. The lesson is now clear; not only will Bucky get the last word, he’ll insist that you spend some money. There are worse things.

So all of this is good news, right? Well, not exactly. While Showalter was the choice of Orioles’ owner Peter Angelos, it’s not a secret that team president Andy MacPhail preferred the lower key Eric Wedge. MacPhail might have had a point — one of the reasons that former Texas Rangers’ owner Tom Hicks had problems with Showalter is because of constant complaints that Buck kept the Rangers’ clubhouse in turmoil. As soon as Showalter’s hiring was announced, the inimitable Camden Chat ran a long piece by Rangers’ blogger Adam Morse (of Lone Star Ball), who commented that “Rangers players never knew exactly where they stood with Showalter, and that he preferred it that way . . . he either wanted guys on edge, or just simply wasn’t comfortable communicating directly with the players.” MacPhail wasn’t the only one questioning Angelos’ choice. Just this morning, Orioles icon Rick Dempsey took on both Angelos and Showalter, calling the hiring “the biggest mistake made here in a long time, and I’m not talking just today, I mean over the years.” Roughly translated, what Dempsey means to say is that Angelos should have hired a manager from within. Showalter is an “outsider” — he doesn’t understand Baltimore.

So there they are, the legion of critics who think that Buck Showalter is not the second coming: George Steinbrenner, Tom Hicks, Rick Dempsey and a huge crowd of Baltimore naysayers and former players who think that a manager with “a militaristic attention to detail” and a huge ego will be bad for the Birds. As opposed to? Well, as opposed to Ray Miller, Mike Hargrove, Phil Regan, Lee Mazzilli, Sam Perlozzo and Dave Trembley, men who presumably had no egos and could care less about details — and who led the Baltimore Orioles to precisely two postseason appearances in 27 years. These naysayers ought to listen to Orioles’ commentator Drew Forrester, one of a legion of sports gabbers that we (we here at CFG) never pay attention to. Except in this case: “This is the Orioles,” Forrester writes. “And we have about 4 players who can play. And maybe two pitchers. And a couple of other live arms that need some tutoring. Of the 25 guys on the roster right now, I can think of six I’d take on my team. I hope Showalter comes in, stomps his feet and demands better players from Angelos and MacPhail. I hope he’s a prick to deal with in the Warehouse and I hope he threatens to fight people if the roster isn’t improved and quality free agents aren’t pursued.”

Yeah, that’s right. So while Showalter has a controversial background and knows how to make enemies, he also has a history of winning. Which is hell of a lot more than you can say for either Peter Angelos or Andy MacPhail.

Two wins against the defensively challenged Washington Nationals must be a source of pride for Baltimore Orioles’ fans, but they’re unlikely to quiet the outrage and disgust that permeates the Baltimore faithful. The Orioles are on track to match the epic futility established by some of baseball’s worst teams: the 2003 Detroit Tigers (43-119), the 1962 New York Mets (40-120), the 1904 Washington Senators (38-113) and (who can forget?), the 1899 Cleveland Spiders, whose record of 20-134 remains unmatched. The Orioles, despite their two recent wins, might well match the ’62 Mets or ’03 Tigers — or the ’09 Nationals, who tabulated 103 losses. The O’s losing ways are particularly grisly for fans who remember the franchise of the 1970s, viewed as one of the most successful in baseball, a fact highlighted by yesterday’s celebration of the 1970 version of the O’s. The 1970 O’s had one of the best pitching rotations in baseball history (well — nearly so) and the “two Robinsons,” Brooks and Frank, who hit for power, average, and drove in runs. Cal Ripken and Rick Dempsey then became the face of the franchise and defined it. Unfazed by bumps and bruises, the two were very different and very much alike. Both were desperate to win.

Those days are gone.

So what’s wrong in Baltimore? While baseball analysts talk of poor drafts, poor development, poor scouting, “a culture of losing” and an indifferent owner, a not-very-close study of the O’s young players shows an Andy MacPhail bias that is hard to defend. MacPhail, the former President and CEO of the Chicago Cubs (and the former “boy wonder” of the Twins’ of the 1980s) has brought Wrigleyville east — to Baltimore. If you don’t believe me, check the O’s roster. Journeyman lefty Will Ohman was drafted by the Cubs in 1998, spent time with the Dodgers and Braves, but then came into Baltimore — an Andy MacPhail idea. If Ohman looks around he’ll see a lot of former teammates: Jake Fox (Chicago to Oakland to Baltimore), Scott Moore (who came, with Rocky Cherry, to Baltimore from the Cubs), Corey Patterson and Felix Pie (great hopes in Chicago, before failing), tweaky armed Rich Hill and lots-of-promise Lou Montanez, the Cubs first pick in the 2000 draft. There are others, squirreled away in the minors or nursing injuries on the DL. But this is good enough: evidence that MacPhail favors those he knows — even if they’re products of a dysfunctional organization.

MacPhail isn’t alone in trading for his bias — Mike Rizzo is as partial to the outliers of the Arizona Showboats as Jim Bowden once was to the farm system of the Cincinnati Reds. But there are limits, and MacPhail seems to have reached them. Felix Pie may or may not someday be a great outfielder (as the Cubs once thought), but it’ll probably be someday. Rich Hill is a talented lefty, but the Cubs decided they couldn’t wait for his arm to be surgically reattached. Jake Fox is a pretty fair ballplayer, but the fact that Billy Beane was anxious to move him (for pitcher Ross Wolf, who apparently hasn’t pitched since 2007) oughta tell you something. Corey Patterson looks good now (.273, 3 HRs), but he’s never been able to hit anything but a fastball his entire life and Rocky Cherry — well, Rocky Cherry is gone. That leaves Will Ohman, Luis Montanez and Scott Moore. All of them are serviceable. Ohman is a tough competitor and Montanez and Moore might actually make good ballplayers some day. But let’s be clear, in the AL East, guys like Will, Monty and Scott aren’t going to win you any pennants. Or lift you out of the cellar.

It took a while for Andy MacPhail to wear out his welcome in Chicago, in part because the Cubs had sunk so low. But eventually fans of the North Side Drama Queens turned against him. He seemed to lack the “feel” for young players who could turn into something. Cubs fans now refer to those twelve years as “the reign of terror,” but only because after more than a decade at the helm in Wrigleyville the MacPhail version of the Cubs had proven to be, well, the same old version of the Cubs (their record under MacPhail’s leadership was 916-1011). MacPhail’s first round picks in the first year MLB draft included such memorable names as Ryan Harvey, Todd Noel, Ben Christansen and Bobbie Brownlie. The development and scouting department that MacPhail put in place consistently failed to produce home grown products and, when they did, they couldn’t quite believe it — MacPhail traded them in a panic to fill immediate needs. Like Jon Garland, whose trade to the South Siders (for God’s sake) left Cubs fans spinning in despair. You could hear the screams from the bars on Division Street all the way to Wrigley Field: “For Matt Karchner. Matt  f-ing Karchner.”

Last week on the radio, Peter Gammons said that he’d heard that there were two lists of candidates for the manager’s slot in Baltimore. The first list, he said, was “the Peter Angelos list” and the second was a list kept by Andy MacPhail. At issue, apparently, is the power that a new manager will have. Gammons and just about everyone else thinks that, to be successful, Angelos and MacPhail need to bring in someone who knows how to handle young players and will have the run of the system. Someone who will have “complete power.” The phrase hints that what Baltimore’s Birds really need is a baseball man who can overrule the decisions of Angelos and MacPhail, and bring order out of chaos. But ask yourself: how likely is it that either a former abestos lawyer and his sidekick enabler (who are, after all, responsible for this debacle) will cede power to a manager who can veto their decisions? The final verdict will tell the tale. Orioles fans desperately need a guy like Buck Showalter, but if Angelos and MacPhail get their way, they’ll probably get Eric Wedge.