Two years ago, the Baltimore Orioles and Gov. Wes Moore were on the cusp of signing a new lease for the team to remain at Camden Yards when Bill Ferguson decided to buck the big names.

The Maryland Senate president came out against the proposed deal, some of which would have required legislative approval, at the eleventh hour. He had concerns the state wasn’t getting a fair shake.

In response, Moore’s team went back to the negotiating table. They called Ferguson “principled,” committed to working “in partnership” and, two weeks later, reached a deal that was lauded by all parties.

Today, Ferguson is bucking again — this time, seemingly, his entire party.

A deafening chorus of Democrats from Maryland and beyond, including Moore, U.S. Sen. Angela Alsobrooks and former Vice President Kamala Harris, are urging the legislature to redraw congressional lines ahead of next year’s midterm elections.

Democratic leaders want to counteract Republican efforts in other states by creating a Maryland map that favors the party in all eight congressional districts, potentially giving the country one more Democratic House seat.

Enter Ferguson. The 42-year-old former Teach for America member and Baltimore resident who was once hailed as a beacon for progressivism has called midcycle redistricting a risky arms race that could backfire or turn off voters.

“There’s no trial run here,” he told The Banner earlier this month. “These are real decisions that have real consequences.”

A headline on the conservative-leaning opinion site The Bulwark blared: “Meet the Most Hated Democrat in America,” calling Ferguson a “Dem darling turned punching bag” in a caption under his photo. An editorial in The Washington Post lauding Ferguson as “the voice of reason in Annapolis” was met with a dismissive “IDGAF” from Moore, who called the newspaper hypocritical.

Ferguson’s counterpart, House Speaker Adrienne A. Jones, is on board with Moore’s plan, saying weeks ago she was “eager and willing” to take up redistricting.

Moore organized a committee to take up the issue and present recommendations for a new map, making it all but certain that the legislature will be asked to take up the issue, either in the new year or perhaps earlier if Moore were to call a special session.

Jones’ support and the Democratic supermajority in both chambers means the decision on whether to draw an 8-0 map will almost certainly come down to the Senate. Ferguson, by virtue of his position, can determine if the bill would even come up for a vote.

Not all Democratic state senators see the issue as their caucus leader does, though few if any are speaking publicly about it. If enough of them disagree, it could force Ferguson’s hand; Moore has suggested he would like the matter to get a vote, saying last month that “one person cannot stop a process.” Democratic Sen. Clarence Lam, of Howard County, plans to introduce his own bill requiring the state to redraw its maps. He declined to comment when reached by phone.

Only Ferguson knows what Ferguson will do, but his opposition to his own party presents a unique test of his influence and will require an immense expenditure of his political capital.

“I think he’s taking a huge risk,” said Roger Hartley, dean of the college of public affairs the University of Baltimore.

The risk, if it is not obvious, is this: Should Ferguson lose this fight, it will mean that enough Democrats broke with him that he could lose the Senate presidency as well.

Even with immense, overt pressure on him to fall in line — U.S. Sen. Chris Murphy called for “someone else to lead” and the Virginia Senate president told him to “grow a pair” — Ferguson has so far stuck to his guns.

“Despite deeply shared frustrations about the state of our country, mid-cycle redistricting for Maryland presents a reality where the legal risks are too high, the timeline for action is too dangerous, the downside risk to Democrats is catastrophic, and the certainty of our existing map would be undermined,” Ferguson wrote last month’s letter.

The last time Maryland Democrats tried to draw a map more in their favor, a judge ruled they had violated the state constitution. Earlier this month, a judge in Utah rejected a Republican-passed redistricting plan in that state. And in Kansas, Republican lawmakers who have expressed skepticism about redistricting are being stripped of leadership positions in their legislature as punishment.

There is, of course, something to be gained for all of Ferguson’s trouble. If he holds the line on redistricting, he will have cemented his hold on the chamber.

Before Ferguson, there was Thomas V. “Mike” Miller Jr., a rural Democrat from Southern Maryland who held the job for 33 years, the longest tenure in state history. His influence was so immense that the legislature named the Senate office building after him in 2001, 19 years before he would leave office.

Before Miller there was Melvin “Mickey” Steinberg, who held the job from 1983-87. Steinberg came to power, in part, because his predecessor, James Clark Jr., tenaciously fought legislative redistricting despite overwhelming support from fellow Democrats in the Senate, House and the governor’s mansion.

Reached by phone, Steinberg, 92, said he was supportive of Ferguson and could sympathize with what he is going through. The Senate presidency requires balancing the desires of the caucus with your own beliefs, a high-wire act that can sometimes go awry.

“He’s under a lot of pressure, Steinberg said, “but that’s the name of the game.”