Hearing from Gibson and George on minor league awards, thoughts on last game in press box

The Orioles are happy with their internal options for the starting rotation and also know that upgrades are important. They will check the various markets, see whether trade partners and free agents provide any solutions.

Trey Gibson will be a phone call away. He’s easy to reach.

Gibson, 23, went from High-A Aberdeen to Double-A Chesapeake and Triple-A Norfolk this season and was chosen as the organization’s Minor League Pitcher of the Year, achieving the honor as an undrafted free agent in 2023.

How close is he to making his major league debut?

“I think pretty close,” he said yesterday while meeting with the media outside the Orioles’ clubhouse.

“Seeing all the guys that are in Triple-A who have major league experience, I think I fit in pretty well into that clubhouse, around those guys.”

Gibson truly emerged with the Baysox, posting a 1.55 ERA and 0.898 WHIP in 10 starts and striking out 68 batters in 52 1/3 innings. He surrendered only one home run.

“It’s just a combination of everything that the O’s have been telling me from the start since I signed and probably just being able to put it all together for a good amount of starts,” he said. “I feel pretty good about that.”

The seven starts in Triple-A didn’t go as smoothly. Gibson allowed 26 earned runs and 29 total with 41 hits in 29 1/3 innings.

“They’re more experienced, they know what they’re looking for at the plate,” he said. “Going into this offseason just shows me how important it is to execute every single pitch and how every pitch matters.”

Gibson can pull some positives out of a difficult finish.

“To be around those older guys, I think the experience that they had watching them day in and day out is pretty special,” he said.

Also noteworthy are the 120 1/3 innings that Gibson accumulated.

“I think that’s a great accomplishment,” he said. “I’m really happy for the workload that I was able to display this past year. Having some conversations with the pitching department, how that takes into effect next year, how I ramp up and all that.”

Pitching at three levels in the same season isn’t a common occurrence in the organization, but Gibson knew that it could happen for him. He pitched with Class A Delmarva and Aberdeen in 2024, registering a combined 3.72 ERA in 25 games and averaging 11.5 strikeouts per nine innings.

“I’m really confident in my abilities as a pitcher,” he said. “Just going out there every time trying to do the best I can do. I’m glad the Orioles took notice of that.”

* Also hard to ignore was 19-year-old outfielder Nate George, a 16th-rounder in 2024 who was named the organization’s Minor League Player of the Year.

George also played at three levels, but much younger and starting in the Florida Complex League. He hit a combined .337/.413/.483 with 14 doubles, nine triples, five home runs, 42 RBIs, 38 walks, 62 strikeouts and 50 stolen bases in 87 games.

He didn’t see it coming.

“For me, ever since I’ve been young I’ve always been real hard on myself,” he said. “I always set high expectations for myself. But I’m extremely grateful with how this year’s played out and I’m looking forward to the next seasons coming up.”

The Brooks Robinson Award usually goes to a player at the upper levels of the system, not a teenager who topped out at High-A. George was special.

“I’m so grateful,” he said. “Just depending on the Lord. The Lord’s plan is always going to work out, and I’m so thankful for the Orioles organization and my parents and everyone who supported me along the way. And it’s just the beginning for me. I know that I still have so much more development and so much more work to do, so I’m looking forward to it.”

George plays like his blond highlights are in flames, operating at an extremely high speed, taking risks at every turn. The aggression is an important part of his game, but he’ll need to be more efficient in his stolen base attempts. He was 50-for-75 this year.

“I’m aware that that’s something I need to clean up for the 2026 season,” he said, “so that’s something I’m definitely going to be working at more this offseason.”

Otherwise, George said he’ll focus this winter on polishing everything.

“I would say there’s not one specific thing, but every part of my game I want to get better,” he said. “I want to get stronger, I want to get faster. And my defense, too.”

George went from relative unknown to No. 8 Orioles prospect, according to MLB Pipeline. The attitude that got him to this point will remain intact. Don’t fix what isn’t broken.

“Being a 16th-rounder a couple months after I was kind of questioning myself like, why me in this situation, I feel like I performed a lot better than what I was picked,” he said.

“I’m a strong believer that everything happens for a reason and it’s just more fuel to the fire, being the 16th-rounder. Whether I was the first pick in the draft or the last pick in the draft, that doesn’t change how I go about my business. Every day I show up with the same mentality.”

* The Orioles play their final home game of the season today, but also the last with the media in its current press box location behind home plate.

I’m not overcome with emotions. The ballpark won’t be demolished. The box is shifting a little to the left, occupying the former MASN booth that must be expanded with the removal of some seats. But yes, there are loads of memories in this spot, beginning with my promotion to full-time beat writer with The Baltimore Sun in 1997.

I went from the first to second row after taking the buyout and joining MASN in August 2008, and I returned to the front row, shifting to the left, during COVID. I was given the choice to stay and I did.

Exciting, huh?

I’ve had a hand bruised by a foul ball and a few other screaming liners that almost demolished a laptop or my frontal lobe. I passed along my laptop to Sun columnist Ken Rosenthal after Cal Ripken Jr.’s foul ball wiped out his computer. And I marveled at how Rosenthal “tore up” his first draft and changed topics in the middle of a game. The press box tours that no longer exist always included an anecdote about that night, exaggerated each year to the point where guides had Ripken calling his shot like Babe Ruth.

The same deadline work will happen in the new location, with the same grousing over late rewrites and rain delays. My sister reminded my mother, as she shed tears while selling her precious Corvette this week – it just wasn’t as much fun after my dad passed away and she’s 85 – that memories transfer. The same is true with this job.

Former public relations director and dear friend Monica Barlow left us in 2014 after a courageous battle with Stage 4 lung cancer, but I’ll find constant reminders of her in the ballpark, no matter where I’m sitting or standing. The same is true of my former beat partner Joe Strauss, who passed away from complications from Leukemia. He had moved on to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. The lessons he taught have stayed with me. I’ll never find a more talented combination of writer/reporter.

Quick Strauss story related to the press box: He published a story in The Sun that basically mapped out how Ripken would voluntarily end The Streak. We had no idea where he got his information, since Ripken wasn’t fond of our publication, and particularly Rosenthal, Strauss and columnist John Eisenberg. I’ve heard that I was an exception, but I digress …

Sure enough, Ripken walked into manager Ray Miller’s office after the lineup was posted and said, “It’s time,” just as Strauss had written. I carried a plate of food down to my seat from the third-level press dining room and heard a PR director announce, “We have a lineup change.”

I stood up, carried my plate to a trash can and dumped it.

Everyone reached for their phones – landlines back in the day. I miss those, too. You can’t slam an iPhone when angry at an editor.

The new press box will have outlets on top of the counters instead of underneath. That’s a win. We won’t be pushed all the way to the left field corner. And let us  rejoice over windows that allow for air conditioning and heat.

No one wanted an enclosed press box back when the ballpark was being built, before my time on the beat, but it finally was discovered that windows can open and close. Thirty-four years later but better than never.

I saw 2,130 and 2,131 as part of the Sun’s expanded coverage. I saw Ripken's final game. I’ll go to my grave, hopefully no time soon, insisting that the Delmon Double was the loudest moment in the ballpark’s glorious history, and it isn’t close. The ovation for Ripken was longer, but not louder. The place shook.

I flirted and I almost fought. Just not with the same people. I survived the 30-3 game and posed for photos with actor Barry Williams from "The Brady Bunch." I saw two opposing relievers blow kisses toward the Orioles' dugout this season.

I saw Josh Hamilton hit four home runs and playoff berths clinched. I covered a game in an empty ballpark, able to hear the broadcasters a level above us. Watched players sign imaginary autographs for imaginary fans. Watched a foul ball last night open a gash on the forehead of Associated Press reporter David Ginsburg, my brother from another mother. We joked that we couldn't talk to him while he was in concussion protocol. He laughed as he held a bag of ice against his wound, insisting that he didn't need medical treatment.

Two more line drives were hit in his vicinity in the same inning, both times causing him to blurt out, "Oh, come on!"

I met one of my best friends in this ballpark, John Maroon, who was PR director. We still gather at his house for green martinis and Jets football. God help him. The Orioles organized a "bring your kids and grandkids to work day" this summer and I got to be with my wife and granddaughter while I wrote my story. The cuteness was immeasurable - both of them. 

OK, I can choke up a little here. I sat in my press box seat as the Orioles defeated the Rays 2-1 on Sept. 20, 2000. John Means got the win on a lovely Sunday afternoon. César Valdez recorded the final out just as a text from my son-in-law appeared on my phone.

“She’s here. I’ll send photos soon.”

I tweeted, “The Orioles defeat the Rays 2-1 and I just found out I’m a grandfather”

This place is my second home for the amount of time spent here. It seemed appropriate that I’d get the news while covering a game.

Another memory that transfers.