Opinion Columnists |

Dan Rodricks: Admiring the Orioles’ Albert Suarez on his Hobbsian Journey | STAFF COMMENTARY

I think we’re safe in calling Albert Suárez a late bloomer, that someone who achieves a breakthrough level of competence and even celebrity relatively late in life.

As a 34-year-old pitcher having a surprisingly strong season for the young Orioles, he is finally, and consistently, demonstrating the skill a scout saw in Suárez 18 years ago in his native Venezuela.

On Sunday, when the Orioles beat the Red Sox at Camden Yards, Suárez pitched six scoreless innings for his third scoreless start in a row and his eighth overall. His performance is even more impressive when you consider the circumstances; he came out of nowhere to become a steady starter after injuries knocked Baltimore’s best out of the pitching rotation, three of them for the season.

So Suárez is a good story right now because he’s doing well and blooming late, after a long Hobbsian Journey.

That’s my term for the life journey of a player — or, really, anyone — who starts out bound for glory, doesn’t meet expectations for all kinds of reasons, but through grit and determination ultimately finds success, even stardom. The talent they demonstrate in youth could be striking or subtle; either way, the potential is clear. But things happen.

I take the name from a fictional baseball player, Roy Hobbs, the protagonist of “The Natural,” Bernard Malamud’s 1952 novel made 32 years later into an excellent film starring Robert Redford.

As a teenager, Hobbs is blessed with extravagant talents, but his journey to the big leagues is cut tragically short. Sixteen years later, he returns to baseball and finally gets a chance to prove himself. When Hobbs shows up, at age 35, with a contract to play for the New York Knights, the manager, Pop Fisher, says: “Fella, you don’t start playing ball at your age, you retire.”

But, of course, Hobbs shocks Pop and everyone else with his batting skills and completes his heroic journey.

Albert Suárez’s journey — 10 years in the minor leagues before getting his first Major League start, contracts with four clubs before leaving the U.S. to pitch for teams in Japan and Korea — would have prompted most players to take a job at Home Depot. To stay on track and complete a Hobbsian Journey, a man or woman must have a strong heart and deep veins of confidence. They need odyssean commitment to the long game. They must believe in themselves when others no longer do.

Jim Henneman, the longtime Baltimore sportswriter, reminded me of two other Orioles whose journeys to the majors required a high degree of grit.

Hoyt Wilhelm’s professional career had just started when he was drafted into World War II. He served with the Army in Europe, received a Purple Heart after being wounded during the Battle of the Bulge, came home, and spent six years in the minor leagues before making his Major League debut at age 29.

Wilhelm had a 20-year career as a knuckleball pitcher with 10 teams, including the Orioles. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1985. He became a member of the Orioles Hall of Fame in 2002.

This weekend, Terry Crowley will receive the same honor from the Orioles. He was known as Crow and had a couple of different stints with the Birds in the 1970s. He was best known as a pinch hitter.

One spring, Crowley didn’t make the cut for the opening day roster. He was 30 years old and considered retirement. Instead, Crowley signed a contract and reported to the Orioles’ top farm team at the time, the Rochester Red Wings.

“I’m going [to Rochester], hit .300 with 30 home runs and prove I can play this game,’” he told Henneman.

And in 108 games with the Red Wings, Crowley hit .308 with 30 home runs.

“He finished the year in Baltimore,” Henneman says, “and stayed five more before being released.”

That’s a good story though it doesn’t quite match, in duration and drama, Albert Suárez’s Hobbsian Journey. He was way out there — in Tokyo with the Yakult Swallows, in Daegu with the Samsung Lions — before returning to the U.S. and the Orioles.

A long journey and a late bloom happen elsewhere in life. I recently met a man who left a career in law enforcement to pursue his dream of stage acting. (More on that in a future column.) There are movie stars who did not get leading roles or reach stardom until they were in their 40s or even 50s: Ian McKellen, Morgan Freeman, Judi Dench, Samuel L. Jackson, Viola Davis.

Last fall at the Country Music Awards, Jelly Roll, the singer born Jason DeFord in 1984, received an award that usually goes to younger artists. His acceptance speech, filled with the passion you hear in his songs, was one for the ages:

“There’s something poetic about a 39-year-old man winning New Artist of the Year. I don’t know where you’re at in your life, or what you’re going through. But I want to tell you to keep goin, baby! I want to tell you that success is on the other side! I want to tell you that everything’s gonna be okay! The windshield is bigger than the rearview for a reason! And what’s in front of you is much more important than what’s behind you!”