Making Himself At Home: Jerry Hairston Puts Down Roots at Second Base and in Baltimore

Rain has forced Orioles batting practice indoors and second baseman Jerry Hairston is, as usual, a bundle of grinning, talking energy in the clubhouse. On this dreary day, he's enthralled with the gangster movie DVDs he's been watching — “Good Fellas,” “The Last Don,” etc. — and he's quick with a mobster impersonation for anyone willing to listen.

“Funny how?” shouts Hairston as bounds into the indoor batting cage, mimicking Joe Pesci's Oscar-winning portrayal of the psychotic Tommy DeVito in the Martin Scorsese classic “Good Fellas.” “Funny like I'm a clown? I amuse you? I make you laugh? What do you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?”

As much as Hairston — who turns 25 on May 29 — enjoys impersonating actors, he has no interest imitating other ballplayers.

“When I go out there,” he says, “a lot of people try to put me in a mold: 'You're the next this, you're the next that.' Well, no, I'm not. I'm the next me.”

Hairston often speaks with the easy confidence that comes from being a third-generation major leaguer who is the franchise's first homegrown position player in two decades. After spending parts of the last three seasons in Baltimore, and becoming as much of a fixture as an early twenty-something has been on this team in recent memory, it's easy to forget that Hairston is on the younger side of the Orioles' much-touted youth movement.

“I guess I do get treated like the veteran now,” he says. “Guys like Brook Fordyce and Melvin Mora are talked about being kids and I'm like four or five years younger than they are.”

Hairston has welcomed members of his own generation into the clubhouse, a turnover that has ushered in camaraderie and baseball tradition noticeably lacking on the veteran-laden Oriole teams of the late '90s.

“We're a very close-knit group,” Hairston says. “Here in the clubhouse, everybody likes each other and we're really pulling for each other. We have Kangaroo Court. It's one of those things where your 25 peers on the team fine you if they feel you've done something that's a bonehead thing.

“I think the future looks bright. We're going to improve and get better and I'm excited about the guys that are here now and the ones that are going to be coming in the future.”

Almost anonymous the last few years, Hairston is suddenly a centerpiece in the franchise's current marketing campaign and is now recognized around Baltimore.

“It's a lot busier,” he says of his newfound notoriety while simultaneously disregarding any notion that he's become famous. “You know what? Someone asked me what it was like to be more of a celebrity. I couldn't believe it. I am not a celebrity. Cal Ripken is a celebrity.”

Even as he dismisses the glamorous trappings of big league life, Hairston becomes downright giddy when talking about his custom-made Nike glove, excitedly pointing out the quick-dry fabric lining on the interior.

“It's my model,” the infielder says of the tiny black and brown glove that's scarcely larger than his hand. “They gave me total freedom on what I wanted. I told them exactly what I wanted and they did it. Anytime you get a chance to make your own glove, it's pretty cool. I love it.”

Hairston put the new leather to good use in the early portion of the season, making a number of acrobatic plays reminiscent of former O's second baseman Roberto Alomar.

“He plays hard,” observes Alomar. “He's going to be a good player.”

Says Hairston: “Defensively, I want to be recognized as the best defensive second baseman in baseball. Not just in my league, I want to be the best defensive second baseman. Roberto Alomar: I think he's the best and I want to get to that level. I have the ability to do so. I'm not there yet, but if I keep working hard I have the ability to do that.”

“You can tell the comfort level is better going into this year,” says double-play partner Mike Bordick. “To have the opportunity to be the everyday second baseman I think has helped him comfort-wise. Of course, he's got all the tools. He's got speed and he's a great defensive player.”

Hairston's defensive skills have never been doubted, but he's had more of a struggle offensively. After hitting over .300 in the minors, he's posted a .257 average during his stints in the majors.

“I'm constantly working, constantly working. I want to be at a point in my career one day to be considered dangerous,” Hairston says, pointing out the late blooming power of Paul Molitor.

“Offensively, he can hit for average,” injects Bordick. “And he can do a lot of little things to get on base.”

A hole in Hairston's swing was a tendency to chase high pitches, a pitch that's regularly called a strike this season under the umpire's more stringent interpretation of the strike zone. In the minor leagues, he was often able to catch up to chest-high fastballs thrown in the 80s, but in the big leagues Hairston found himself flailing at pitches in the same location with more velocity.

“The thing about chasing the high pitch: I worked so hard on it, so hard on it,” he says emphatically. “I'm not chasing it anymore! Now they're calling it a strike.

“I was aggressive, which was good, but maybe I was too aggressive. But I'm most proud of my knowledge of the strike zone. I know what's a ball and what's a strike. That's the one thing I really tried to work on this year”

It has been a period of change away from the ballpark, too, as Hairston adjusts to married life. He and his wife, Tanaha, whom he married last October, have made Baltimore their permanent home and Hairston has found that's where he spends most of his non-ballpark time.

“When you're a young ballplayer, there are a lot of distractions out there. I used to be one of those single guys that had fun and went out every now and then. Now that I've gotten married, I really have settled down. It's amazing the transformation that I've made. I never go out. I'm always at home.”

That's not the lifestyle description normally associated with a major leaguer in his mid-20s. But just as quickly as Hairston will break into his best De Niro, he'll remind you that “I'm not the next Cal Ripken. Cal Ripken did his own thing. Roberto Alomar did his own thing. I want to do my own thing.”