Orioles Mailbag: Waiting on Framber Valdez and the Value of Defense in Cooperstown
Question:
As the pitching dominoes continue to fall, the Orioles seem to be treading water, holding their breath while waiting for Framber Valdez to blink. I’m guessing the issue is less about average annual value and more about the length of the deal. Now that the Mets have traded for Freddy Peralta, do you think something finally gets done? Or are we heading into 2026 without a true No. 1 starter?
— Bill Bonnington
Answer:
Bill, you’re not alone — Michael Chefalo sent in a similar question, and it’s clearly on a lot of fans’ minds.
I’m not convinced the Orioles are simply waiting for Framber Valdez to blink. From everything I understand, Valdez’s agent is doing exactly what you’d expect: trying to extract the best possible deal. There’s a strong chance Baltimore already has the most competitive offer on the table.
That said, it only takes one unexpected late bidder to change the entire equation.
The real uncertainty is timing. At some point, executive vice president and general manager Mike Elias has to decide whether it makes sense to continue waiting or to pivot. That pivot could mean shifting focus to someone like Zac Gallen or another top free-agent starter, or possibly exploring whether a trade becomes more realistic as other teams adjust their plans.
The Mets acquiring Freddy Peralta definitely tightens the market, but it doesn’t eliminate Baltimore’s options. My sense is that the Orioles understand what’s at stake — both competitively and perception-wise — and I do believe they’ll add a legitimate frontline starter sooner rather than later.
Entering another season without a true No. 1 would be a significant gamble for a team with postseason aspirations.
Question:
Is defensive prowess a major factor when considering a player for the Hall of Fame? Brooks Robinson seems like the only player who got in primarily for his defense.
There are others who I think deserve consideration — for example, the Orioles’ Paul Blair, the Red Sox’s Dom DiMaggio, and the Braves’ Andruw Jones.
— Timothy Fowler
Answer:
Tim, as you already know, Andruw Jones was elected to the Hall of Fame this week, and defense certainly played a role. His 10 Gold Gloves were impossible to ignore — but it’s important to remember that Jones also hit 434 home runs. He wasn’t a defense-only candidate.
Brooks Robinson is a unique case. While his defense at third base was legendary — arguably the best ever — he wasn’t a liability with the bat. Robinson finished his career with 2,868 hits, and while his glove was the headline, his overall résumé supported Hall of Fame status.
If you’re looking for the clearest example of a player whose defense carried more weight than his offense, Ozzie Smith stands above everyone else.
Smith won 13 consecutive Gold Gloves at shortstop and was a 15-time All-Star. While he wasn’t a power hitter — just 28 career home runs — he still collected 2,460 hits and consistently contributed offensively. His defensive impact was so extraordinary that it reshaped how the position was evaluated.
Paul Blair, while an outstanding center fielder with eight Gold Gloves, falls short by Hall of Fame standards. He hit .250 for his career, with 134 home runs and 620 RBIs — solid numbers, but not enough when paired with defense alone.
If you want a better defensive comparison, Mark Belanger is worth mentioning. Like Blair, he won eight Gold Gloves, but his value was driven even more heavily by defense. His career WAR of 40.9 actually exceeds Blair’s 37.7, largely because of his elite glove at shortstop.
Even so, that level of defensive excellence still doesn’t quite reach the threshold for Cooperstown.
Bottom line:

Defense absolutely matters in Hall of Fame discussions — but it almost always needs to be paired with longevity, offensive contribution, or historic impact. Pure defense, no matter how elite, rarely stands alone.
The silence might be strategic—and that’s precisely why it has become impossible to ignore. As the Orioles continue to survey a pitching market reshaped by recent moves, one name keeps resurfacing just beneath the surface: Framber Valdez. Baltimore hasn’t rushed. It hasn’t leaked urgency. It hasn’t tipped its hand. Instead, the front office appears to be operating with deliberate restraint, measuring timing just as carefully as talent. In a market defined by volatility, that calm stands out.
From the outside, the Orioles’ approach looks almost passive. Other teams have acted quickly, locking in arms, resetting values, and forcing the market upward. Baltimore, meanwhile, has remained quiet, content to watch prices rise and dynamics shift. But insiders around the league are increasingly convinced that this silence isn’t hesitation—it’s calculation. And at the center of that calculation sits Valdez, a pitcher whose availability could alter the balance of the American League.
The ripple effects of the Ranger Suárez move only intensified the situation. That transaction sent a clear message: frontline pitching is scarce, and teams are willing to pay aggressively to secure it. Almost overnight, the market recalibrated. Prices rose. Leverage shifted. And patience, once viewed as an advantage, suddenly became a risk. For the Orioles, who have carefully built their roster with long-term sustainability in mind, the challenge is finding the line between boldness and overreach.
Valdez represents more than just another arm. He’s a proven postseason-caliber starter, durable, experienced, and capable of anchoring a rotation when the stakes are highest. For a Baltimore team that believes its competitive window is wide open, that profile is undeniably appealing. Yet the cost—both in prospect capital and financial commitment—remains the central question. The Orioles have spent years building one of baseball’s deepest farm systems, and there is understandable reluctance to disrupt that foundation unless the return is transformative.
That’s where timing becomes everything. Rather than rushing into a market inflated by urgency, Baltimore appears to be waiting for pressure to mount elsewhere. Rival executives are watching closely, aware that not every team chasing pitching will get what it wants. As options dwindle and deadlines approach, leverage may swing back toward buyers. If that happens, the Orioles could find themselves in position to strike at a more favorable price—exactly the scenario their patience is designed to create.
Fans, of course, are split. Some see the window opening and worry that caution could become complacency. Others trust the front office’s track record, believing that discipline is what brought Baltimore to this point in the first place. The tension is palpable across the fanbase, amplified by analysts revising expectations with every passing week. The Orioles are no longer a rebuilding curiosity; they are a contender, and contenders are judged by how aggressively they pursue opportunities to win.
Around the league, executives are scrambling to adjust. Values are resetting in real time, and the pitching market feels increasingly unstable. One move triggers another, and the ripple effects spread quickly. In that environment, Baltimore’s restraint looks almost defiant. Yet it’s also risky. The longer the Orioles wait, the greater the chance that prices rise beyond comfort—or that another team moves first, removing Valdez from the equation entirely.
Still, those close to the situation insist that Baltimore is comfortable with the uncertainty. The front office understands that not every opportunity must be seized, and that the wrong move can be more damaging than no move at all. Valdez is appealing, but only if the terms align with the Orioles’ broader vision. That vision prioritizes sustained success, not a single all-in swing that compromises future flexibility.
What makes this moment fascinating is how narrow the margin has become. One phone call, one injury elsewhere, one desperate bid from a rival could tilt the market decisively. The Orioles know this. They are watching not just Houston, but the entire landscape, waiting for signs of stress that might open a door. In that sense, inactivity is itself a form of action—a calculated bet that patience will be rewarded rather than punished.
If and when Baltimore does move, it will send a powerful signal. Landing Valdez would announce that the Orioles are ready to convert promise into pressure, that they are willing to pay for certainty when it matters most. Standing down, on the other hand, would reaffirm their belief that internal growth and flexibility remain the best path forward. Either outcome carries consequences, and the front office is acutely aware of them.
For now, the silence continues. Each quiet day adds to the intrigue, fueling speculation about whether the Orioles are waiting for the perfect moment—or the perfect price—to strike. What looks like calm may in fact be tension held in check, a pause before a franchise-shaping decision. And in a market moving this fast, that decision may arrive sooner than anyone expects.
One thing is clear: whatever Baltimore does next will resonate far beyond this moment. The pitching market has already shifted once, and it may shift again. When it does, the Orioles won’t just be reacting—they’ll be revealing exactly how bold they’re prepared to be.