To David Thompson, Orioles catcher Adley Rutschman is someone who hugs his teammates, the man “at the heart of actually leading this resurgence within the city, and within the fan base, and within the franchise.”

The blossoming baseball star is also something else: the namesake of David and his wife, Kaitlyn Thompson’s 3-month-old son, Trevor Adley.

“Last summer, I wasn’t pregnant, and Adley Rutschman was doing amazing things for the Orioles and just bringing such hope to the Orioles community, and so that’s what our story being pregnant was all about as well, having hope that he would eventually come,” said Kaitlyn, 28, a third-grade public school teacher.

The Pasadena couple said they refer to their son using his first and middle name, and that some friends just call him Adley. The Orioles played on the television when he was born at Anne Arundel Medical Center on July 3, though his moniker was settled on well before that (after his parents decided against Adley Gunnar).

“It’s kind of a shame that our son is only a couple months old, and he’s not older to see this season and actually understand it,” David, 31, said at the end of September. “It’s going to be a summer we literally will never forget.”

The Orioles’ spectacular 2023 season ended this week almost as quickly as it took off, but the players left their mark on a group sure to become lifelong fans: babies named after the team’s own baby Birds.

While big names in Baltimore baseball (think Cal Ripken Jr., or Brooks Robinson) haven’t always made a huge dent in the baby name charts following their successes, it’s a new generation’s turn to try to tilt the trends.

“It’s undeniable that, especially at the margin, popular celebrities or fictional characters — or even in some cases, athletes — influence names,” said Sean Mussenden, a professor and data editor at the University of Maryland’s Howard Center for Investigative Journalism.

Could young players with standout names — Adley, Gunnar, Grayson, Félix or Cedric — inspire a new crop of mini-mes?

“We love to tell ourselves stories of overcoming challenges and triumphing,” said Victoria Harms, a senior lecturer in the history department at the Johns Hopkins University, where she teaches a popular seminar titled “The Cold War as Sports History.”

Sports is an easy arena for evoking pride and hope, “especially when rookies carry a team … it’s just the perfect story that we love to watch,” Harms added. “They come in and then just inspire an entire city.”

People naming their children after famous athletes is nothing new. “Kobe” made it into the nation’s top 1,000 most popular boys names in 1997, the year after NBA shooting guard Kobe Bryant made his debut with the Los Angeles Lakers, and has remained a top-600 name ever since, according to data from the Social Security Administration. In 2020, the year Bryant died in a California helicopter crash, it was the 239th most popular name.

For girls, “Serena,” safely within the top 1,000 most popular names for decades, hit a recent peak in 2000, the year after now-retired tennis great Serena Williams won her first major singles title at the U.S. Open.

But athletic acclaim doesn’t necessarily translate to contemporaneous baby-name fame.

Names of current players haven’t yet overwhelmed Baltimore delivery rooms or OB/GYN offices, according to representatives from Mercy and Sinai hospitals. “Adley” didn’t show up in the top 100 most popular baby names in Maryland last year, nor did Cedric, Gunnar or Félix (and Grayson was ranked 50th, for boys).

“Cal” never made it into the top 1,000 baby boy names documented by the Social Security Administration during Cal Ripken Jr.’s 21-season career with the Orioles, while “Calvin,” Ripken’s given name, remained steadily popular long before, during and after his career.

The boys name “Brooks” didn’t see a meaningful spike in national popularity until a few years after third baseman Brooks Robinson, who also played for over two decades for the Orioles, retired in 1977, according to Social Security Administration data. It’s become increasingly popular in recent years, reaching a high of 76th most popular boys name in 2022.

“I would think often about the fact that he was named after Brooks Robinson,” Westminster resident Mike Holden said of his 7-year-old son, Brooks. “But now, with Brooks Robinson’s passing, I think it’s just even more significant for me. I love that we have a son named as a tribute to someone who was such a great human being.”

Brooks is Mike and Erin Holden’s fifth child (fitting, since Robinson wore No. 5). As a kid himself, Mike Holden, who grew up in Laurel, received a baseball in the mail for his birthday, sent and signed by Robinson.

When his son Brooks was only about a year old, Holden took him and his brother, Nolan, to meet Robinson at a sports memorabilia store. The Orioles legend signed the outfit Brooks wore home from the hospital when he was born — a shirt with No. 5 on the back and the name Brooks.

“He’s so genuine and had so many kind interactions with people over the years,” Mike, 48, said of Robinson, who died Sept. 26. “He really had a bond with Baltimore and the fans.”

But Orioles-inspired names from past eras aren’t confined to the city and nearby counties, or even the state.

Pittsburgh resident Calvin Yoder grew up with a life-size poster on his bedroom wall of his namesake, Cal Ripken Jr., and said his parents “thought of him as a really good role model … not a super flashy guy or anything like that, but he’s someone who is just dedicated to getting it done and doing it well.”

Soon after Yoder was born, his father, who grew up in Baltimore, and mother drove their young son to Cleveland for an Orioles game and held him up in an attempt to catch Ripken’s attention.

Now, Yoder has a 12-year-old nephew in Pennsylvania named Camden, after the ballpark and as a tribute to Yoder’s father’s love of the team.

But as Yoder contemplates names for his own future child with his fianceé, he said the strongest contender aside from repurposed family names is one borrowed from the Orioles roster: Adley.

Pennsylvania couple Sarah and David Shepke, who both attended Orioles games growing up, named their son Grayson Adley in mid-July after Rodriguez and Rutschman — committing to the middle name only after Sarah underwent a cesarean section.

“Right after I woke up from my surgery, my husband said that the Orioles were playing at that time and he said ‘Adley just hit a home run,’ and Grayson had been pitching that night,” said Sarah, 32.

Grayson Adley Shepke is destined to play for the Orioles one day, or at least that’s Sarah’s hope. Girls named after Adley could also wind up wearing catcher’s mitts, if Rutschman’s devoted fan base continues to grow.

“Being a unisex name, it just made sense” for Ellicott City couple Jordan and Courtney Kenney to name their daughter born in September after Rutschman, said Jordan, 36.

They contemplated similar girls’ names, like Adalyn and Ainsley, Courtney said, but Adley felt like the “perfect” choice.

“We love his character and how much he’s transformed the team,” Jordan said, adding that his own Adley — though still an infant — is already a “sweetheart” with sass.

Some Orioles fans are still trying to convince their partners to run with a baseball-inspired name for their soon-to-arrive babies, like Harford County resident Chris Peacher.

“It’s the name of the person who’s brought joy back to watching the Orioles,” Peacher, 32, said of Adley, a title he’s considering for his second son, expected in early January. His wife, Caitlin Peacher, has been pushing for “unique” names, like “Crew,” Chris said.

But the name Adley would hold personal sentimentality. Chris attended Rutschman’s MLB debut last year with his son Cole and his late father, Glenn Peacher, the only game the three went to together before Glenn died in November 2022, Chris said.

“If he stays around here for the long haul … I do think that [Adley Rutschman] could live up to that namesake [like Brooks Robinson has], where we see a lot of kids named after him,” Chris said, adding that he and Caitlin are considering the name Brooks as well.

Interning in 2014 with WBAL, where his father — affectionately known as “Detour” Dave Sandler — worked for a long time, Brooks Sandler became familiar with the Orioles clubhouse, he said. Later he got a job working in player development for the Orioles, and he likes to think his name, Brooks, might have helped him stand out.

Now 30 and working in the University of Pittsburgh’s athletic department, he grew into the name — and all that came with it.

“You don’t really have a choice,” he said, “you’re just an Orioles fan.”

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The 20th anniversary of the Alex Gonzalez Game is upon us, though few Chicago Cubs fans refer to it as that.

Gonzalez, the former shortstop who booted a potential double-play ball that contributed to an epic Cubs collapse in Game 6 of the 2003 National League Championship Series, was fortunate enough to find cover under the dropped foul ball by a fan that preceded his error.

Ditto pitcher Mark Prior and the rest of the ‘03 Cubs who helped fritter away a three-run, eighth-inning lead on Oct. 14, 2003, and then failed to get the job done in Game 7. Manager Dusty Baker and pitching coach Larry Rothschild dodged most, but not all, of the finger-pointing as well.

Steve Bartman famously took the fall, disappeared for 13 years, returned to accept a World Series ring from the Cubs, then went back into hiding for the last seven years. His face has not been on the internet, to anyone’s knowledge, and he has not profited off his moment of infamy.

While his story has been told in an ESPN documentary, alluded to in a PlayStation ad and rehashed in numerous newspaper articles over the last two decades, including a 10-year anniversary piece I wrote for the Tribune in 2013, Bartman has refused to talk.

Only on occasions such as this does his attorney and family friend, Frank Murtha, spring into action to reiterate that Bartman has nothing to say about that day or his life.

Murtha thought it would be over by now but admits he was wrong. The legend continues. You have to credit Bartman for staying underground after a life-changing event he easily could have cashed in on and for overcoming an ugly reaction from die-hard Cubs fans upset that their team blew a chance at the World Series.

Former Marlins outfielder Juan Pierre, who was on second base at the time, told me 10 years ago that the team thought nothing of the foul ball at the time.

“I saw where someone in the dugout said ‘Hey, let’s make this guy famous,’ ” Pierre said. “But I didn’t hear that. I definitely feel bad for him.”

Bartman did become famous, which might not have happened had the Cubs gotten their act together and held on in Game 6 or won Game 7 to make it a moot point.

But those things didn’t happen, and you can’t change history. Still, you can look back at the facts and change the narrative, which a popular TV show recently did.

So I had to ask Murtha if Bartman had seen a particular episode of “The Bear,” a Hulu show about a Chicago man named Carmy, played by Jeremy Allen White, who took over the family’s restaurant after his older brother committed suicide.

“I don’t know if he does, and I didn’t hear anything about it,” Murtha said. “But it’s not like I have search engines covering everything in the world.”

I have to believe Bartman has at least been informed of a scene that mentions his incident in a profane and hilarious conversation between two of the main characters.

In the episode, a grizzled businessman called Uncle Jimmy (played by Oliver Platt) gives an impassioned speech about the hazards of the industry, using the Bartman episode as a metaphor.

“Do you remember Alex Gonzalez, shortstop for the Cubs?” Uncle Jimmy says.

“Um, no, no, I don’t think so,” Carmy replies.

“Right, and it’s a shame you don’t think so,” Uncle Jimmy says. “But I’m going to explain why you don’t think so.”

Uncle Jimmy goes on to explain the circumstances of the Game 6 loss, calling the grounder to Gonzalez an “easy grab, no (bleeping) brainer kind of thing” that led to the Cubs falling “apart at the seams.”

When Carmy asks himself out loud why he doesn’t remember Gonzalez, Uncle Jimmy delves into the earlier play of the fly ball down the left-field line that a fan dropped as left fielder Moises Alou approached the wall.

Carmy quickly realizes he was referring to Bartman, and he nods knowingly. Uncle Jimmy tells him the reason he couldn’t remember Gonzalez’s name was because “everybody and their mother wants to blame the (bleeping) guy instead of the actual (bleeping, bleeping bleeps) who (bleeped) it up.”

Those bleeping bleeps, of course, were the rest of the Cubs.

The scene was perfectly written and well-acted and might have been the best defense I’ve ever heard of Bartman’s accidental appearance in Cubs lore. Kudos to “The Bear” for giving Bartman’s side after all these years.

Most Cubs fans have come around to Bartman’s side, realizing he was just an unlucky person sitting in the unlucky seat where Luis Castillo’s fly ball would land. But that doesn’t mean his name won’t be remembered long after Gonzalez and the other Cubs who contributed to the loss are forgotten.

The Cubs tried to make amends in 2017 when they gave Bartman a 2016 World Series ring, whether it was done with good intentions or just virtue signaling to show what benevolent guys they are.

Bartman and Murtha drove to Chairman Tom Ricketts’ office to pick up the ring with president of business operations Crane Kenney and president of baseball operations Theo Epstein also in the room.

That was supposed to bring closure to the incident, and to some extent it did.

Bartman issued a statement that day expressing his “heartfelt thanks” to Ricketts, Kenney, Epstein and the entire Cubs organization,” calling the gesture “the start of an important healing and reconciliation process for all involved.” Bartman mentioned his wish was to “prevent harsh scapegoating and to challenge the media and opportunistic profiteers to conduct business ethically by respecting personal privacy rights and not exploit any individual to advance their own self-interest for economic gain.”

The Cubs also invited Bartman to appear in the victory parade, which Bartman politely declined because he didn’t think it was appropriate to take any attention away from the players.

I asked Murtha if Bartman ever wears the ring.

“I kind of doubt that he does,” he replied, adding he never has asked.

The media has mostly ignored Bartman over the last seven years, expect perhaps when other so-called “Cubbie Occurrences” happen, such as Seiya Suzuki’s missed fly ball that helped lose a game in Atlanta last month during the Cubs’ wild-card chase. One ESPN.com reporter stalked Bartman for a story many years ago, but otherwise he has been left alone.

When I reached out to someone who had helped Bartman escape Wrigley that fateful night, the person declined and said “Please leave him alone.”

His name still pops up from time to time, though not as often as the first 10 years after the incident.

A front page of the Tribune with a photo of Bartman’s drop and the headline “The Mitt Hits the Fan” was signed by Alou and framed by a Milwaukee Brewers clubhouse attendant. It resides in his office in the visitor’s clubhouse at American Family Field to this day, viewable to any Cubs player who walks past.

In April the Miami Marlins promoted a “Steve Bartman Appreciation Day” on social media for a series against the Cubs, but the idea was quickly squelched after Kenney contacted the Marlins to voice a complaint. In September a fan wore a Bartman outfit, with the distinctive green turtleneck and old-school headphones, and sat behind the plate during a Cubs-Colorado Rockies series at Coors Field. Hardly anyone seemed to notice, even though he was in almost every TV shot.

But when the subject of the 2003 Cubs comes up, it’s impossible to ignore his name. I recently asked former Cubs pitcher Carlos Zambrano, who lost Game 5 in Miami that would have clinched the NLCS for the Cubs, if he ever felt sorry for Bartman.

“No,” he said. “It could’ve been Paul Sullivan or Carlos Zambrano, it could’ve been anybody else. His name popped up, and he became famous after the incident.”

Zambrano added that he didn’t think Bartman did anything wrong.

“It was just the natural reaction of the fans,” he said. “You see the ball, you want to grab the ball.”

He stopped for a second and thought about how long ago it was.

“Twenty years ago, wow,” he said. “But we have to turn the page and celebrate ‘16.”

The Cubs got their rings in 2016. Baker earned his first ring last year with the Houston Astros and is working for another. Prior got one in 2020 as pitching coach with the Los Angeles Dodgers and also is back in the postseason.

It sounds as if Bartman has come out OK and moved on as much as possible. Maybe he’ll write a book someday and explain how he felt going through it all.

Or maybe not. The longer time passes, the more people will have forgotten the true story of the foul ball that changed one man’s life and left a scar on Cubs fans.

But scars heal, fortunately, and life goes on.

The worst of times never last forever.

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Sitting in the north end zone of Soldier Field on Sunday during the third quarter of the Chicago Bears game with the Minnesota Vikings, I noticed quarterback Justin Fields heading toward the exit holding his right hand.

I nudged one of my friends and pointed to Fields.

“We (bleeped) now,” he said.

Neither of us had any idea Fields had been injured on a previous play, and we weren’t really sure who the backup was that day. Would it be the guy called “the Peterman” or the rookie whose first name escaped us?

It turned out to be the rookie, Tyson Bagent, who would be making his NFL debut.

We were all excited to witness the start of the Bagent era, knowing it couldn’t be much worse than the current era, or any recent era for that matter.

Bagent fumbled the ball away on the first series, but eventually righted himself and led a spirited fourth-quarter comeback that had Soldier Field rocking. I flashed back to my favorite unknown quarterback, Kent Nix, coming off the bench to spark a late win in my first game at Soldier Field.

Nix did it in the season opener against the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1971. Could Bagent be Nix 2.0?

You know the rest of the story. Bagent’s underthrown pass to DJ Moore resulted in a drive-killing interception, and the Bears went on to lose 19-13. No one was really surprised. Not because we didn’t trust Bagent, but because we’ve watched the Bears long enough to know how this works.

Now Bagent reportedly will get an opportunity to show what he can do with a week of practice under his belt as the starting quarterback, thanks to Fields’ dislocated right thumb.

He’ll join a long list of backup Bears quarterbacks thrust into a starter’s role with a chance to erase the status quo. From Zeke Bratkowski to Mike Phipps, and from Mike Tomczak to Nick Foles, QB2 has been a central figure in the Bears’ history.

The franchise’s historic inability to find dependable starters always means there’s someone waiting in the wings to take over. And that person is typically the people’s choice, since the unknown is almost always preferable to the known when it comes to Bears quarterbacks.

Only when the backup becomes the main man do Bears fans realize they might have been a little too giddy about the new guy.

Fans clamored for Phipps over Bob Avellini, and then for Vince Evans over Phipps. Tomczak was the local boy who could do no wrong as Jim McMahon’s backup, until he could do no right as the full-time starter after McMahon’s exit.

We seemingly waited forever for Kyle Orton to replace Rex Grossman, and then saw him dealt for Jay Cutler, the only Bears quarterback disliked by a large segment of fans no matter how he performed on the field. We couldn’t wait for rookie Mitch Trubisky to replace the statuesque Mike Glennon, and then couldn’t wait for the Bears to draft someone new to replace Trubisky.

It’s been a vicious cycle of Bearsness our whole lives, and something we’ve learned to live with.

I recall as a young fan thinking Nix would be the one to lead the Bears back to glory. I was already tired of watching “old” Jack Concannon, who was only in his late 20s. After that comeback win over the Steelers, Nix came off the bench again to upset the Vikings and was then named a starter for the New Orleans Saints game. The Bears scored five first-half touchdowns in a 35-14 win to go 3-1, and a new star was born. Tribune Bears writer Cooper Rollow called him “the cool, implacable Kent Nix.” I was sold.

But Nix was injured the following week in a loss to the San Francisco 49ers, so I quickly found a new backup hero, the immortal Bobby Douglass, a left-handed QB who ran a lot and threw passes so hard it could break his receivers’ hands.

Douglass preceded Gary Huff, who eventually led to Avellini, and so on.

There was a Cade McNown and a Josh McCown; a Rusty Lisch and a Peter Tom Willis; a Henry Burris and a Chad Hutchinson. The litany of backup quarterbacks includes names that are remembered long after anything they did on the field is recalled, only because of the Bears’ storied inability to find someone who could actually get a football into a receiver’s hands.

I don’t know enough about Bagent to know whether he will succeed where the others didn’t. I do find it mind-boggling that Bears management made a totally inexperienced rookie the backup to a relatively inexperienced Fields based on a couple of preseason performances and expected him to be ready in mid-October.

But Bagent seems competent, poised and fearless enough to deserve his shot, and he’ll get the benefit of the doubt from fans Sunday if he starts against the Las Vegas Raiders.

Until he doesn’t. That’s the beauty and the curse of being the Bears’ backup quarterback. Everyone loves you when you’re on the sideline not throwing interceptions. But that new-car smell quickly wears off once they’ve seen you a few quarters and you still haven’t delivered.

Hopefully he succeeds in a short stint, and Fields returns soon to finish out the season that will decide whether he deserves a new deal, or whether the Bears need a new QB1.

Bears fans are always waiting on something. It’s what they do best.

Why should this year be any different?

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