When the walls of a once-promising clubhouse start echoing with frustration instead of fire, you know the storm has made landfall. The Baltimore Orioles, once flying high, are now crash-landing in real time. While management reaches for the eject button, one $40 million man isn’t mincing words. His message? Brutally honest. If the cleats fit, wear them—because this isn’t just a slump, it’s an organizational face plant.

The sacking of Brandon Hyde has become a big one because everyone knows the problems run deeper into the team. But sports being sports, the first man to be sacrificed, as always, is the manager, and some of the Orioles players feel awful after this move by the Orioles.

During a recent interview, Baltimore Orioles player Zach Eflin talked about the sacking and made his feelings known. He said, “Like I said, it sucks. It’s as a result of us sucking. We’re going to continue to try and go out there every single day and fight because the season’s not over, the season’s not lost.”

The season might not be over, but Brandon Hyde is no longer the manager of the Orioles, and that will always be a black dot on his resume. This is part of the job, but that does not mean all the blame goes on the manager. Looking at performances, Zach Eflin has helped Hyde in some way. In the 4 games started, he has a win-loss record of 3-1 with an ERA of 3.13 and has conceded only 2 homers.

While the pitching has been decent, the bats in the Orioles have gone missing. The team has a batting average of .230 with just 49 home runs and has an OBP of .299. The Orioles average 3.7 runs per game, and that is just not enough to win games.

If pitching has been the Orioles’ saving grace, their offense is clearly still on vacation. With a batting average that barely registers and runs that wouldn’t fill a lemonade stand’s tip jar, it’s no wonder the wins aren’t pouring in. Hyde’s exit might shake things up, but until the bats find their swing, Baltimore’s “face plant” is far from a quick recovery — it’s a full-blown rebuild in slow motion.

Orioles players and staff react to the sacking of manager Brandon Hyde

In the unpredictable theater of Major League Baseball, even the tightest bonds can unravel faster than a fastball down the middle. When loyalty meets the harsh spotlight of results, tough calls follow. The Orioles found themselves at such a crossroads, parting ways with a manager who had been more than just a coach — Brandon Hyde, a figure both respected and, apparently, expendable in the high-stakes game of wins and losses.

Everybody knows that the sacking of Brandon Hyde was coming, but they also knew that he was not the only one at fault. After the sacking, players like Adley Rutschman and Gunnar Henderson made their opinion clear on this topic. Rutschman said, “You hear about stuff like this happening, but to be a part of it is definitely different. … Have gotten close with them, love them, and have the utmost respect for both of them.”

In a very similar emotion, Gunnar Henderson said, “Yeah, I know for myself at least he’s been my only manager, so I hate it for him. Lot of guys we know we should have won more games so it sucks in time but the reality is just gotta go out there and continue to play baseball.” 

Orioles bench coach Robinson Chirinos also expressed his feelings. He said, “I feel for him… If we evaluate ourselves as a club, as a coaching staff, I think there was room maybe to do more.” Rutschman and Henderson echo the frustration behind a .230 batting average. The Orioles’ 15–28 record says wins didn’t come easily. Their voices reflect a clubhouse aware: offense struggles, yet the fight remains. Baseball’s grind continues despite a season slipping through their fingers.

If heartbreak had a batting average, the Orioles would be leading the league. Despite the managerial shakeup, the underlying issues—namely, scoring less than four runs a game—remain glaring. Rutschman and Henderson’s candor shows a team caught between hope and reality, still swinging in a season that feels more like a prolonged trial by fire than a playoff run. In Baltimore, baseball is far from over—but the clean-up at the plate is long overdue.