"It's a depressing time." 

That's how Jim Riggleman describes being fired as a major league manager.  In a session with Internet writers Saturday, I asked Riggleman to comment on the recent dismissal of Dave Trembley from the Baltimore Orioles.  Riggleman can relate better than most.  While with the Chicago Cubs, Riggleman was fired by the same general manager who did the deed with Trembley, Andy MacPhail.  

"I've got a lot of empathy for Dave," Riggleman shared.  A baseball lifer like Riggleman or Trembley works hard to become a major league manager, finally gets an opportunity, and knows what is needed to improve a ballclub.  "These jobs are so precious because there are so few of them," Riggleman said.  But the inevitable frustration kicks in when, as Riggleman explained, "you know the things coming out of your mouth are the right things, but you're not getting the results."  Thus, the elusive but often embraced desire for "a different voice."  

It doesn't matter that the ballclub was assembled by someone else.  Too many looses, and you'll be gone. "It's understood going in," Riggleman added.  But it doesn't make it any easier to accept when the dreaded meeting occurs with the general manager.  Hopefully, Mike Rizzo and Riggleman won't be having the same conversation anytime soon.

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* I also asked Drew Storen whether he, as a rookie, had received any razzing from the veteran players.  "No, not anything too bad.  I have to carry the backpack out to the bullpen.  But that's about it."  Then Josh Willingham arrived in the press room, took over the microphone, and told Storen to "get out."  Perhaps the razzing has only begun.

* Does Willingham mind being taken out of games late for defensive purposes?  After all, the defensive gap between Willingham and the normal sub, Willie Harris, has closed quite a bit.  The Harris-Willingham UZR/150 ratings (left field only):  2009:  +13.6 (Harris) vs. -7.6 (Willingham).  2010: +6.1 vs. +0.9.  (Thanks to FanGraphs.)  So I put the question to Willingham.  His reply:  "Not at all.  Willie is a faster guy.  So it's fine with me."  Sounds like Riggleman's voice is still being heard. 

      

We went up to Baltimore Saturday night to see the Nats play the O's.  And the two franchises could not be more different.  A team filled with young, promising players.  A superior ballpark experience.  And a big crowd not driven by fans of the other team.  All this describes the Baltimore Orioles, circa 2009.

You would think that, several years into a franchise, we would be describing the Nats this way.  But instead, they seem to be going in the opposite direction.  While the O's are building around position players like Markakis, Roberts, Jones, Wieters and Reimold, the Nats likely will have to blow up their current line-up (again) to get better defensively.  Camden Yards remains one of the best ballparks, filled with character (the warehouse) and easily accessible to the Inner Harbor.  In contrast, the Nats' park seems antiseptic, devoid of any defining feature other than a Capitol view that's been obstructed by that stupid red tent.  

But what impressed me the most last night was the crowd.  Not only was it big (40,000), most were there way early.  We got to the park an hour before the game, and Eutaw Street was already packed.  When the P.A. guy announced the starting line-ups, almost everyone was in their seats, wearing their Markakis shirts and cheering at the names of the individual O's. That has never happened in D.C.  Even the music choices seemed smart: Michael Jackson's "Beat It" when the O's took the field; the Beatles "Help" when the O's went to the bullpen.  In Washington, we get Clint.

Baltimore's renaissance is largely due to a solid baseball executive, Andy MacPhail, who traded smartly and drafted well.  In Washington, Jim Bowden's decisions have utterly wasted the Nats' first five years.  Earlier this week, Stan Kasten described himself as "the village idiot."  But it's going to require a big injection of intelligence to rescue this franchise.