Orioles’ Tyler Wells was bullied as a kid and became a stress eater. He’s working to find more balance in his life now.

SARASOTA, Fla. — Costa Rica had been perfect.

After a taxing 2022 season, Tyler Wells and his soon-to-be fiancée Melissa Carpenter found a chance to relax and reflect on those calm beaches. But when it was time to board the airplane back to reality, Wells turned to Carpenter and asked for her help.

He’d need it. Food is an important part of Wells’ life — making coffee and grilling are two of his favorite pastimes — but he had to find a way to balance his love for food in a healthy way, a way that supported his mental health and performance on the field for the Orioles.

“You’re probably gonna hate me this offseason,” the right-handed pitcher told Carpenter. “We can’t go to Crumbl Cookies every weekend as a treat. I really have to eat right and get into really good shape for this upcoming season.”

And then his request: “I need your help,” Wells said. “I need you to be an accountability partner for me in those things.”

Carpenter already understood how Wells ticked. She learned early in their relationship, which began in August 2021, that Wells dealt with stress eating tendencies as a result of the bullying he faced growing up.

Wells’ mother died from cancer when he was 4 years old. From then throughout high school, Wells moved around the country, spending time with his grandparents in Oklahoma before beginning his high school career in West Virginia and completing it in Southern California, where he lived with his father and stepmother.

At each stop, baseball was an outlet. But he couldn’t completely ignore the comments on his weight.

“It was really difficult whenever I moved to Southern California, because all of a sudden I’m the kid from Podunk West Virginia, and coming in trying to make a baseball team, you kind of feel like the redheaded stepchild,” Wells said. “That’s kind of where I felt like I was at a lot of the time when I’d bounce around from place to place.”

That stuck with him, even as Wells grew into a 6-foot-8 starting pitcher. He made a name for himself at Cal State San Bernadino, was drafted in the 15th round by the Minnesota Twins and arrived in Baltimore as a Rule 5 selection, where he has now broken through as a key piece of the Orioles pitching staff.

Still, toward the end of last season, Wells looked in the mirror and didn’t like what he saw.

All the travel is difficult. He and Carpenter eat out more on the road. And then right shoulder inflammation ended his season in September, turning a strong season into something less satisfying in his eyes.

“I noticed and I felt like I had just blown up a little to a point where I didn’t feel I was really performing very well,” Wells said. “I just didn’t feel — I loosely use the term healthy, but I just didn’t feel good at the weight I was at. I felt like I was sluggish all the time, didn’t feel like I was mentally sharp.”

So after he and Carpenter returned from their Costa Rican vacation, he outlined the changes he needed to make. And he asked Carpenter to help. Wells isn’t afraid to lean on the rock in his life, the person who makes him feel as though “I have the support of the entire world behind me with just her.”

A new reality

Wells peered over Carpenter’s shoulder. She was cooking at the stove, mixing together a sauce, and Wells was unsure about the ingredient in her hand.

“You’re gonna put that in it?” he inquired.

Carpenter could’ve smacked him with her spoon if she didn’t find it so funny.

“I’m like, ‘Are you freaking kidding me?’ Any other guy would be so happy to have a home-cooked meal and love it,” Carpenter said with a laugh. “He wants to put good things into his body, and I can appreciate that.”

During their grocery trips in their first few months together, Carpenter learned the particularities of Wells’ palate, orchestrated around nutritious foods that supplement his high-performance lifestyle.

Olive and avocado oil were in. Eggs and sweet potatoes were, too. But when Carpenter turned down the frozen food aisle, searching for her favorite Bob Evans garlic mashed potatoes, Wells felt compelled to speak up. Those precooked potatoes? They were nothing compared to the fresh mashed potatoes he could make at home for them.

It almost ended everything.

“When he told me no to the Bob Evans mashed potatoes in the beginning, I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, we’re not going to make it,’” Carpenter said. “If I can’t do mac and cheese and microwave veggies, I don’t know if we’re going to make it.”

Wells is quick to offer his side of the story. He never told Carpenter she couldn’t eat those Bob Evans mashed potatoes. All he said was that he wouldn’t be joining her.

It’s not that Wells doesn’t like junk food. There’s a time and a place for everything, such as a trip to Crumbl Cookies for a special dessert. His stress eating habits correlated with bullying when Wells was younger, when other kids would poke fun at his weight as he moved around the country.

Still, there are times the easiest thing to do when he’s feeling stressed or spent after a hard day is to order a quick takeout meal. He’d order a pizza, a sandwich or get something from BRD — a fried chicken sandwich restaurant in Baltimore that Wells enjoys.

“It’s very easy to sit down and be like, ‘I’m stressed out, I’m going to order something that makes me feel good,’” Wells said. “And then all of a sudden, you realize, ‘Holy hell, I just ate a whole pizza by myself.’ Because you’re not even thinking about it. You’re just thinking about everything you’re stressed out about.”

Carpenter gets it. After a long day of work, an Uber Eats order sounds easier — and sometimes tastier — than cooking their own dinner. But especially this offseason, she and Wells have worked in tandem, reminding each other of the groceries in the fridge, and of their conversation after Costa Rica.

The short-term satisfaction of a takeout meal might be undeniable. But in the long run?

“I would kind of try to put things in perspective for him,” Carpenter said. “When it’s a guilty pleasure, it’s great in the moment and then after you’re beating yourself up. So I’ll ask him, ‘That’s fine if you want to do this. I’ll go with you if you want to go out to eat here. But are you going to beat yourself up after?’”

“Probably,” Wells might say.

So they won’t go, saving that treat for another time, after an especially good workout or another reason to celebrate with a dinner out. Instead, they’ll open the fridge and remember what their working toward.

Lofty goals

Wells left the mound Saturday with a shake of the head. It had been his first start of the spring, and while he was encouraged by the way he pumped the zone with strikes, he wasn’t as pleased by the location of them all.

Like his cutter in the first inning. The two-out offering to reigning National League Rookie of the Year winner Michael Harris II hung over the heart of the plate. Wells turned to watch the ball leap off Harris’ bat and sail over the outfield fence.

Through his two innings, Wells allowed five hits and three runs. The results of an early spring training game don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s more about building up his arm in a game setting.

“It sucks to give up runs regardless,” Wells said. “I’m one of those people who doesn’t care if it’s the first start, I don’t care if it’s a playoff game. It always sucks to give up runs.”

Wells has lofty goals this season — so lofty he won’t speak them aloud. He wants to make the starting rotation, sure, but even that he won’t comment on publicly in camp. Wells is focused more on his own performances than worrying about the jockeying of starting pitching competitions.

And even if he did say his goals aloud, he knows the responses he would hear. He’s been hearing them all his life, from the bullies as he grew up to the more recent doubters on social media he now knows to tune out.

“I’m going out there each and every day to beat whoever is in my way to getting to those goals,” Wells said. “If that means the other guy in the batter’s box, I plan to go right after him.”

It also means beating himself — or some of the unhealthy habits he developed when he was younger. It means passing on the Uber Eats orders for home-cooked meals, for mastering portion sizes and managing stress in different ways.

When Wells looks in the mirror now, 15 to 20 pounds lighter than last season, he’s happier with what he sees.

“But I’m not satisfied,” Wells said.

He understands now that perhaps he never will be, entirely. But he’s learning how to handle that.

andy.kostka@thebaltimorebanner.com

Andy Kostka

andy.kostka@thebaltimorebanner.com

Andy Kostka is an Orioles beat writer for The Baltimore Banner. He previously covered the Orioles for The Baltimore Sun. Kostka graduated from the University of Maryland and grew up in Rockville.

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