MEDFORD, Ore. -- Family, friends and teammates remembered Steve Bechler as a fierce competitor Saturday at a memorial for the former Baltimore pitcher who died of heat stroke in spring training.

"He didn't like to practice, he didn't like the sidelines, but he liked to compete," said Mike Flanagan, executive director of baseball operations for the Orioles. "What more could you ask of a pitcher?"

Newly married and expecting a daughter, Bechler, 23, died Feb. 17 a day after collapsing during a spring training workout in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

A medical examiner has linked his death to ephedra, an over-the-counter herbal supplement which Bechler was taking to help him lose weight after reporting to training camp out of shape. His death has prompted Major League Baseball to ban the supplement among players with minor-league contracts. It is already banned by the NFL, the NCAA and the International Olympic Committee.

Teammates stretching back to T-ball were among the 800 people at South Medford High School, who recalled a man who always gave his best effort on the field, loved to kid his friends, and remained loyal to them even after he made it to the big leagues.

Steve Clifford, who had been pals with Bechler since childhood, learned of his friend's death in a phone call from his mother, and watched the news moments later on ESPN while in a motel in Virginia on business.

"I sat there and the tears just rolled down my face," Clifford said. "From the time of second grade to the time he died, it was baseball that was our passion."

Jed Johnson, who played with Bechler on the Medford Mustangs in the 1997 American Legion World Series, recalled his friend's fierce competitiveness and determination, pitching two games back-to-back, winning the first, but falling short in the second to finish as runner-up.

"Dedication and loyalty was on his face, and that's the way he lived his life," said Johnson. "My faith in God comforts me to know he is in a better place and his journey has just begun."

In an e-mail from Saudi Arabia, where he is serving with the U.S. Air Force, longtime friend Jake Stickley recalled how on his way overseas, Bechler met him during an airport layover and took him on a whirlwind tour of Baltimore, including a stop for an interview at a radio station.

"I was thinking, 'He is a professional baseball player and we don't have to pay for a dang thing,'" Johnson wrote, adding that he felt a mixture of pride and envy. "I loved hanging out with him. He was such a positive person."

Standing behind a row of photos of her husband playing baseball and his framed jersey from the 1997 American Legion World Series, Bechler's widow, Kiley, recalled meeting him at an arcade when they were in high school, the difficulty of having to share him with baseball in the years that followed, and his joy anticipating their coming child.

She called in sick to her job to watch his major league debut.

"I'm so glad I did," she said. "He was like a kid in a candy store.

"The happiest I ever saw Steve was when we were watching the sonogram of (the daughter they were expecting) Haley," Mrs. Bechler said. "On the way home, he was already talking about what her first car would be."

After signing with the Orioles as a third-round draft pick in 1998, Bechler was called up to the big club as a reliever at the end of last season from the minors.

Orioles scout John Gillette said he always felt a special bond with Bechler, because he was the first player he ever signed, and was filled with pride to see him signing autographs for kids at the ballpark.

"I know how far he came from a brash young kid to being a big leaguer and a man," Gillette said. "It made me feel so proud to see the look on those kids' faces looking at him."

Pitching coach Dave Schmidt recalled Bechler could be stubborn, resisting coaches trying to teach him to throw a changeup so he would not have to rely solely on his fastball and curve.

During one game in the minor leagues, Bechler was ordered to throw nothing but changeups. The fourth one was blasted off the fence.

Covering third base as the batter ran into second, Bechler called into the dugout, "There's your stinking change-up."

"He was -- to use an old baseball term that still applies -- he was a gamer," Schmidt said. "He was always ready to take the ball."