Blending in proves to be Adam Jones' best play

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — Less than a month ago, his innocent and well-intentioned words flew instantly across a continent and slowed down a brewing trade.

Mere days ago, he walked into Orioles camp here and immediately became the focus of everyone's attention: the team executives who gathered to eagerly watch their prize acquisition run through his first drills; his new teammates, who waited to see how the new hot shot would comport himself; and the media, which chronicled his every move.

But Adam Jones, at age 22 and with no big-league résumé yet to back up the hype, isn't ready to be the face of the Baltimore Orioles. And certainly not its voice.

Perhaps he would be willing to take on the task of being their fresh, new legs. But it turns out that the best move Jones has made in the second stage of his baseball life has been to defer, deflect and try his best to blend in.

He's turning it into an art form, in fact, becoming a model of humility in action. It's playing well.

"This is not my team," he said on Sunday. "I'm not here to be a savior or anything."

Perhaps not, but Orioles manager Dave Trembley was practically glowing Sunday as he watched Jones run through an outfield relay drill, hitting the cutoff men with low bullet pegs on a consistent basis. And again when Jones stepped into the cage and began spraying line drives all over Fort Lauderdale Stadium.

"He has a chance to be a big-time player," Trombley observed. "The key thing people have to understand, he'll have his ups and downs, too. But once it all clicks for him, look out."

Mariners fans, of course, were hoping to have it all click for Jones in Seattle, and they live in mortal fear of him becoming big-time in absentia. But thus was the price — along with George Sherrill (currently hobbled by a minor hamstring injury) and three pitching prospects — of obtaining Erik Bedard.

"I know Seattle wanted to hang onto me, but they really, really, really wanted the pitcher, so they had to give me up," Jones said with a shrug. "I don't fault them any way for the move. This is a business game. They had to do what they had to do."

Jones admits that he had relished the thought of taking over right field in Seattle, playing next to Ichiro.

"It would have been real fun," he said, "but I'm next to Nick Markakis now, so I can't complain."

Jones seems to have genuinely warm memories of his Mariners days, which featured only sporadic play in two major-league stints. He recently received a text message from Jay Buhner, wishing him luck. Willie Bloomquist, an early mentor, is especially missed, along with Raul Ibanez.

"I learned so much from that guy," Jones said if Ibanez. "He's just a first-class guy."

It was Ibanez's offensive surge at almost the precise moment that Jones was called up last Aug. 3 that relegated Jones mostly to the bench down the stretch. He ended up making 16 starts, hitting .246 in 65 at-bats.

"It was a little frustrating," he said. "You always want to play. You're in the big leagues, where you want to be, but you don't want to sit around. But we were in a heated battle, and Mac [manager John McLaren] had to play the veteran guys. I understand that.

"I got called up, and Raul took off. He just took off, and I loved it. It was fun watching him. I talked to him all the time, like, what's it like? He said, 'I don't know, I'm just swinging.' I had no problem with that. I wanted to play more, but I couldn't control that."

Jones doesn't think that the extended bench time, in the midst of a breakthrough season at Tacoma, will have any lasting effect.

"I don't think it will hurt my development," he said. "I'm 22, you know? I just have to go out and get the constant reps, and I think here, I'll get the opportunity."

While Jones dutifully says that he is competing for the center-field job (with Tike Redman, Jay Payton and Chris Roberson), observers of the Orioles would be shocked if he is not the starter.

Kevin Millar is already comparing him — in physique, at least — to Eric Davis ("He's got a great baseball body"), while Jay Gibbons uses the word "smooth" to describe him.

"I love his swing," Gibbons said. "It's real fluid. I can see why the hype is as high as it is."

Finalizing the trade turned out to be a monument in frustration for all parties involved. The problems started when Jones, believing after a phone call from Mariners general manager Bill Bavasi that the trade was a fait accompli, said as much to a reporter in Venezuela, where he was playing winter ball.

That seemed to freak out Orioles owner Peter Angelos, and the deal teetered and tottered for the next week-plus. Never mind that Jones' comments were respectful to all parties — Bedard, the Orioles and the Mariners.

"I said what Bavasi told me, but it doesn't matter now," Jones said. "All that stuff is over with. No hard feelings, no one got hurt. We're in the present day."

After Bavasi's initial phone call, Jones was prepared to get up at 4 a.m. and drive to Caracas for a flight to Baltimore, where a physical exam had been scheduled. But when his words leaked, Jones received another call: Stay put. It would be more than a week before the deal was consummated.

"This trade, it was meant to be, but for some reason, it took a long time to be," he said.

The delay meant Jones missed attending the Super Bowl in Arizona, for which he had tickets on the 48-yard line on the Patriots' side. Instead, Jones watched from his hotel room in Baltimore when he finally was brought to town for his physical on Super Bowl Sunday.

"They [the Orioles] helped me out a little," he said. "The room and dinner was on them. I went to Morton's and kind of ate myself into a hole."

Missing the Super Bowl is one of Jones' two minor regrets about the whole ordeal, the other being Trembley's edict upon his arrival in camp that he shave his goatee.

But he did so promptly and without protestation, another step in his quest to be seen as the anti-diva.

"This guy is really humble," Trembley said. "Boy, he's just real professional. He asks a lot of questions. He's very receptive, and I think he's gaining a lot of respect in the way he's trying to take a lot of focus off himself.

"He doesn't want to be the guy that feels like he's better than everyone else. I think he'll readily admit to everybody he really hasn't done anything yet, and he doesn't really understand why he's getting all the accolades and attention that's coming to him.

"I've tried to tell him, with the magnitude of the trade and who we gave up to get a guy like yourself, that comes along with the territory."

The Orioles, and Jones, are willing to wait for the day when he truly becomes the face and voice of the team.

Larry Stone: 206-464-3146 or lstone@seattletimes.com