By Thomas Boswell

Tuesday, May 4, 1999; Page D01

BALTIMORE—The all-stars of Cuba played with 40 years of national pride at stake Monday night at Camden Yards. The Orioles played for their tattered professional reputations. And probably the job of their manager, Ray Miller, as well.

Both the Cubans' long-standing pride and the Orioles' recently fallen reputation remained intact. The evening's result -- a 12-6 drubbing of the major leaguers by the Cuban amateurs -- was often sloppy, sometimes thrilling and, above all, shockingly decisive. Only one arrogantly dominant team appeared on the field. It wasn't the $84 million Orioles.

At precisely midnight, after the Cubans had erupted in the ninth inning for five insurance runs for a 12-3 lead, the Orioles walked off the field under a hail of cheers from a few hundred Cuban fans and a thunder of boos from several thousand Baltimore fans.

A meaningless three-run homer in the ninth by Delino DeShields will fool no one. Only one question was left in the air: Was this the most embarrassing defeat in the history of U.S. baseball? What would even rank as No. 2?

The ecstatic visitors took extra bases with abandon. Sometimes it seemed the slowest Cuban was faster than the swiftest Oriole. Finally, when Andy Morales capped the Cubans' scoring with a three-run homer in the ninth off rookie Gabe Molina, Morales ran the bases blowing kisses, pounding his chest and pointing to the sky to praise his God.

That Morales replay will presumably be replayed 1,000 times -- the symbol of all Cuba's pent-up baseball pride. Maybe the Orioles should watch every one of them.

"We're having a national party right now," third baseman Omar Linares said. "This is the day we were waiting for."

All night, the supposed major leaguers were embarrassed at every turn. Sidearming reliever Norge Vera held them hitless -- and virtually soundless -- for his first 6 2/3 innings after entering in the second inning with Cuba ahead, 3-2.

To underline the Orioles' plight further, 284-pound Calvin Pickering made three errors in his first game up from Rochester. In retrospect, was this the judicious night to chose for his '99 debut? In a sense, he fielded for the cycle. First, he let a grounder go between his legs. Then, he flipped a short toss over the pitcher's head. Finally, he kicked a ground ball with both feet.

Cuba has had better teams. Perhaps much better. To all appearances, the Orioles have had few worse. In the debate over the relative merits of Cuban vs. American baseball, little was settled. After all, the Orioles are a run-of-the-mill big league team in a terrible slump, forced to use their fifth starter, Scott Kamieniecki, just off the disabled list. Still, they have Major League on their chests. And, in a sense, America, too. That's all it took to turn up the electricity to full voltage.

Egged on by a few hundred screaming Cuban fans, the visitors in red hats, white pants and blue shirts played as though the deprivations exacted by a 40-year blockade could be erased with one game.

Cuba -- a swift, daring, slap-hitting team that made the Orioles look painfully slow and old -- quickly spotted an opponent in nearly total disarray. After knocking out Kamieniecki in the second inning, the Cubans were suddenly into the soft underbelly of American baseball -- the long relievers and mop-up men of a mediocre pitching staff with little depth. So, this is how Senor McGwire and Senor Sosa hit so many home runs!

With Mike Mussina, Scott Erickson, Juan Guzman and Sidney Ponson left off the roster, all that stood between the Orioles and humiliation were Doug Linton, Molina, Mike Fetters and Ricky Bones.

In retrospect, the Orioles' upper management made a stunning mistake. They scheduled a game with large political repercussions and media coverage. They used their starting lineup, thus putting their reputation on the line. Yet the Orioles ended up not using any of their seven best pitchers, including their top three relievers. That logical inconsistency violated simple common sense: Do it right or don't do it. In the wake of their almost farcical showing, they'll pay a price in shame.

Cuba's motivation was obvious: prove that several generations of its players, prevented from playing in the majors, were as good as anyone.

In their own way, the Orioles were extremely motivated, too. In recent days, they have been criticized or mocked for their $84 million payroll and 7-17 record. Before this game, the wisecrack making the rounds was that the Orioles were already a national disgrace but, by losing to Cuba, could upgrade to international disgrace.

The Orioles, nonetheless, had nobler motives than disproving their critics. "I was amazed at how much it meant to me to stand behind that [U.S.] flag when we played in Cuba," Miller said before the game, recalling Baltimore's 3-2 win in 11 innings in Havana.

"A lot of guys were surprised at how emotional that game was," B.J. Surhoff said. "It was a playoff atmosphere with a buzz in the air. I was drained after the game."

That buzz was back Monday night. The whole game, starting with a 56-minute rain delay in the first inning, bordered on the bizarre. Several anti-Castro fans ran on the field with signs. They were booed, but not much louder than Miller and Albert Belle, who failed to hustle on a grounder he might have beaten out to lead off an inning.

Perhaps the loudest cheer of the night, largely because the Orioles provided little reason to yell, came when the second-base umpire chased and tackled a fan with a "Cuba Si, Castro No" sign. Then, the ump lifted the fan over his head and body-slammed him like a pro wrestler. An interesting contrast to the orderly game in Havana. Fewer Cuban players may want to defect if they think the umpires are that tough.

By the middle innings, the Orioles seemed to lose their fire. Herky-jerky reliever Vera contributed mightily to their sleepwalking offense. However, the Orioles were also guilty of entering this game with a self-pitying attitude. Players, such as 0-5 Erickson, have whined about missing their off-day for a mere exhibition. Miller has abetted that mood by noting all the complications that the two Cuba games have thrown in the Orioles' way this spring.

Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge.

Instead of viewing these games as an honor, as well as an opportunity both to represent their country and kick the tar out of a dictator's pet team, the Orioles have chosen to feel victimized.

As the night wore on toward midnight, the crowd thinned, along with the Orioles' hopes. For weeks, Orioles players have been saying, "This is the bottom." They were wrong.

For generations of fine Cuban players, however, this night was definitely the tops.