Even a baseball novice could've told you which high school pitcher would make the majors.
At a lean 6 feet 4 with a fastball that crossed 95 mph and uncommon poise for a teenager, McDonogh's Brandon Erbe could have been cast by Hollywood as a young Jim Palmer.
Chorye Spoone? Well, the player from Northeast High was a chunky kid with an unruly temper whose fastball topped out at 87 mph.
But a funny thing has happened since the two local pitchers were picked by their hometown Orioles in the 2005 draft.
Erbe, 20, pitched better at first, creeping onto lists of the best prospects. But when he reached Single-A Frederick last year, his mechanics went haywire and his ERA soared.
Spoone, 22, struggled initially with his control and demeanor. But by the end of last season, with a sinker added to his arsenal and fat chiseled from his frame, he was Frederick's best pitcher.
Now, Spoone is the guy on the prospect lists with a chance to pitch in Camden Yards later this summer. Erbe is the kid who needs to get back on track.
This would all be compelling enough if the two weren't close friends.
But the brash kid from Pasadena and the calm one from Pikesville shared an apartment in Frederick last year. Spoone has passed his love of deer hunting to Erbe. When Erbe's girlfriend is in town, the couple double-dates with Spoone and his fiancee.
"Brandon is so hot," said Spoone's younger sister, Jordan Patton.
Said Erbe's mother, Patty: "They are not just baseball friends. They're really tight."
Though Spoone is at Double-A Bowie while Erbe remains at Single-A Frederick, the pitchers call each other after every start. They realize they might have to fight for the same spot with the Orioles someday, but that has never led to unfriendly competition, Spoone said.
"It's more like if he strikes out 10 and walks one, I want to strike out 11 and walk none," he said. "But then I want him to come back and be even better the next time. You push each other."
Erbe said: "I think it's awesome to watch Chorye get everything he worked for."
Spoone first told his mother and stepfather he would play in the big leagues when he was 5. Sure, they said, and patted him on the head.
He had talent. That much was clear when he frightened fellow Pasadena Little Leaguers with his hard curveball (high school teammates christened the pitch "the dirty").
But coaches couldn't believe the kid's attitude.
