There I sat, Saturday night, in some pretty fantastic seats at Camden Yards, watching the Orioles take on the Nationals at home. It’s a relatively friendly rivalry, but still, I was rooting my Birds on that evening. As the game neared the 8th and 9th innings, I got strange butterflies in my stomach, as I watched our pitcher hurl ball after ball into the catcher’s glove. I know why I got butterflies. For years, I’ve always believed that being a Major League Baseball pitcher is not only be the hardest job on the field, but also the loneliest. I don’t mind working hard, but I don’t like to be lonely.…