Some unforgettable moments covering the Orioles in New York

A regular season allowed to play out as intended would have brought the Orioles back home tonight after a four-game series in the Bronx.

Gary Sánchez probably would have hit five or six home runs. And Gleyber Torres would have said, "Hold my protein shake."

The Orioles were supposed to host the Pirates in a three-game weekend series and we could have rehashed the 1971 and 1979 World Series. Better to reminisce about the 2017 regular season and a two-game sweep for the Orioles at Camden Yards while conveniently forgetting the Pirates' two-game sweep in Pittsburgh.

Two walk-off wins in extra innings in the first week of July came while the Orioles still regarded themselves as contenders. They defeated the Pirates 6-5 and 9-6, with both losses hung on left-hander Wade LeBlanc, who now projects as their No. 4 starter.

Mark Trumbo lined a two-out single into center field to score Adam Jones in the 10th, and rookie Trey Mancini belted a three-run homer in the 11th the following night after pinch-hitting in the ninth and delivering a two-run shot off Tony Watson to tie the game.

"That was definitely something I wasn't expecting before the game tonight," Mancini said afterward, "but again, baseball is a game where you never know what can happen."

The Orioles are 9-1 against the Pirates in regular season games in Baltimore.

It hasn't been quite that easy at Yankee Stadium, where I've experienced way more than I could ever imagine during my years on the beat. I shared a handful of examples in yesterday's mailbag, including Derek Jeter's walk-off single against reliever Evan Meek on Sept. 25 in his final at-bat in the Bronx.

Meek signed a minor league deal after a January tryout at Camden Yards and went 0-4 with a 5.79 ERA in 23 games and 2-0 with a 1.94 ERA and 16 saves in 39 games with Triple-A Norfolk. He was outrighted in late October and elected free agency.

The Jeter single came on the last pitch Meek threw in the majors. The right-hander didn't seem particularly bothered by the outcome.

"Threw him a cutter away," Meek said afterward. "It's just, baseball has a funny way of ... what better way to go out here at Yankee Stadium than to do what he did? I can't be upset about it. It was a great day for him, a great day for his fans, a great day for baseball. It was just an amazing moment.

"Obviously, you don't want to be the guy out there who gives up the game, but I kind of feel like today it wasn't about me, it wasn't about anyone else. It was his day and it was a great day for baseball. I can either be upset about it or embrace it. What a moment. What a career he's had. It was really an honor and a privilege to just be out there and share the field with him.

"It was a great moment for the game and the Yankees organization, the fans who came tonight. Wow. What a way to do it. Destiny has a way of working. It was an amazing moment."

Manager Buck Showalter, as I recall, wasn't thrilled with Meek's reaction.

"I watched (Jeter)," Meek continued. "When he got the hit, I watched him round first and watched him jump. The crowd went nuts. In that situation, you just can't be upset about that kind of thing. It's bigger than all of us. It was just a great moment. A great moment for the game and him. There's no better way for him to go out. It was just an amazing moment.

"The game has a funny way of working out. I know they go to Boston to end the season, but tonight with it being Derek Jeter's last game here, what better way to send Derek Jeter out than with the game-winning hit? An amazing moment."

Many of the Orioles did tip their caps to Jeter from the dugout. Only Meek seemed to celebrate the occasion.

"You just can't be upset about it," he said. "That moment, the whole day was above everyone. It was all about his legacy that he's going to leave here. It was really an honor and a privilege to just be out there and share the field with him."

Closer Armando Benítez wasn't feeling quite as warm and fuzzy in 1998 after serving up a go-ahead three-run homer to Bernie Williams in the eighth inning of a May 19 game and then drilling Tino Martinez between the shoulder blades with his next pitch.

Benítez dropped his glove and motioned to the Yankees dugout, spreading his arms and curling his fingers as if to say, "Come and get me."

They did.

The brawl lasted about 10 minutes and spilled into the visiting dugout. Yankees left-hander Graeme Lloyd sprinted from the bullpen and threw the first punch, which didn't exactly defuse the situation. Reliever Jeff Nelson also threw a punch. So did Darryl Strawberry, who caught a right hand from Alan Mills, making the Orioles reliever an instant hero to fans.

Strawberry had to be restrained by Cal Ripken Jr., bench coach Eddie Murray and Yankees manager Joe Torre. He emerged with a bloody mouth, a sore left hand and a bruised ego.

Benítez stayed at the team hotel the next two nights after meeting with general manager Pat Gillick and assistant GM Kevin Malone, and I've heard that he was inconsolable. Teammates had to publicly defend him, but they were highly upset with his actions. Manager Ray Miller called the act "cowardly," which also upset some Orioles.

"He's young," said catcher Lenny Webster. "He's got to learn. But when something like that happens, you've got to support your teammate."

"You've got a guy on the mound throwing 100 miles per hour," Jeter said. "That was just dumb from the start."

Plate umpire Drew Coble didn't waste much time tossing the reliever, telling a pool reporter afterward, "I ejected Benítez almost before the pitch got there."

Torre described it as "a rotten thing to do" and noted how the designated hitter allows a pitcher to get "braver when he doesn't have to face the music." Owner George Steinbrenner referred to the pitch as "a classless act" and called for a year-long suspension. The Orioles were angry that the Yankees made a bad situation worse by starting the fight.

Benítez, suspended eight games and fined $2,000 by American League president Gene Budig, insisted that the pitch wasn't intentional. No one was buying it.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I was only trying to throw inside."

I was only trying to find Ripken during the melee because that was my assigned task. The Baltimore Sun missed the knee injury sustained by Ripken in a 1993 brawl with the Mariners, when he was pinned beneath a pile and told head athletic trainer Richie Bancells the following day that he couldn't play. Bancells worked on the knee and Ripken continued his march toward 2,131.

The Washington Post had the scoop and The Sun's Joe Strauss gave me instructions when we joined the beat together in 1997 to keep an eye on Ripken if another brawl erupted. Don't watch anything else. Don't worry about anything else. Just find the Iron Man.

Easier said than done when both teams tumble into a dugout.

I remember blurting out, "I can't find Cal," as if I lost my child in a department store.

Going back to Yankee Stadium exactly one year after the 9/11 attacks was intensely emotional on a number of levels. The obvious one, with the significance of that date making the game itself insignificant. And the phone call I received from the copy desk as I stood on the field during batting practice.

"We're hearing that Johnny Unitas died. Can you get confirmation on this?"

I'm not sure why I was the chosen one, but as a huge Baltimore Colts fan, I could feel my heart breaking again.

The Orioles' return to New York no longer was the top sports story. A reporter from The Washington Post asked me if Unitas' death was more of a Baltimore story or a national story. I explained that it went far beyond the locals. Unitas was an NFL legend.

The story would be plastered on front pages across the country.