We don't protest in Pittsburgh. We don't take action. We do nothing more than complain to each other. It's what we do.
In the six-plus hours I spent inside or outside PNC Park at this home opener, for which so much had been stirred up on social media and even among organized groups, not a blessed thing occurred. I'd heard directly from two groups in the weeks leading up to the game, one of which was supposedly raising money to buy 35,000 brown bags, another of which was planning some march or walkout, and not a blessed thing occurred.
To repeat from the column linked above, I don't care one way or the other. My commentary in the initial piece and here again is simply this: Let's not ever waste anyone's time in the future even discussing stuff like this.
• The only significant statement made regarding the Pirates' ownership and/or front office came through the 6,000-plus empty seats, per the officially announced attendance of 30,186. Scan my photo above -- taken right after Jameson Taillon's first pitch -- to draw your own conclusion, but mine is that the figure felt fairly accurate. Major League Baseball attendance is based on tickets sold. It's not actual turnstile count or bodies in the building, the way the NFL does it and baseball used to do it.
Regardless, the attendance, the lowest for an opener in our city since 1982, had to be an embarrassment for the Pirates, given that the home opener had always been a slam-dunk sellout since PNC Park opened in 2001. And it had to have been an even bigger embarrassment for those being honest with themselves at 115 Federal, who know better than anyone of all the unprecedented promoting and discounting that had to occur to push the figure barely over 30,000.
Is not showing up a form of protest?
Of course it is.
Does it hurt the ownership and/or front office?
Not really. Lowered local revenue ultimately results in a larger revenue-sharing check from New York. It's not an even swap, but it mitigates any meaningful damage.
• I've heard from fans that PNC Park security was asking fans entering the stadium to raise their hoodies to check for what kind of shirts they were wearing underneath. I didn't witness this myself, but I've heard from enough that I'm comfortable asking here if anyone else experienced that. Feel free to respond in comments or email me directly.
• Jameson Taillon's line -- 5 1/3 innings, two runs, four hits, nine strikeouts, zero walks -- doesn't come close to describing how encouraging that start was. I'll try with a few spoken words:
• When a hitter faces a pitcher shaking in his shoes — and I can't otherwise explain Lance Lynn's career-long struggles at PNC Park, where his ERA is two full runs higher than his career 3.38 — that hitter needs to take care of business.
And when a hitter works his way into a 3-0 count with the bases loaded, he needs to take the next pitch, even if it's dead-red.
And when a hitter takes that pitch for a strike, he needs to be ready to obliterate the next one.
So give it up for Colin Moran for checking off all of the above in grand fashion:
Moran isn't exactly the extroverted type. After what had to be the highlight of his baseball life, it took an entire toolbox of pliers to extract emotion from him, though I did give it a shot:
It's mostly immaterial, I know. Just an observation.
But it's worth noting that Francisco Cervelli playfully was urging Moran to smile as he approached home from rounding the bases, as captured by our Matt Sunday:
What mattered in the equation was that Moran finally showed some pop after a strange spring in which he batted .362 but had zero home runs and five total extra-base hits out of 60 plate appearances. He's got that long swing, which usually makes scouts cringe, but Dave Parker and Gregory Polanco have long swings, too. And when those long routes converge with full force, barrel to ball, it can be awesome.
• Wait, Polanco and Starling Marte are suddenly drawing walks?
Polanco's got six, including four in this game -- one intentional -- while Marte's got three, one in this game.
The Marte thing's got no chance to be sustained, even though he insisted to me afterward, "More walks this year." He's just never been that hitter, and 180-degree transformations tend not to occur this late in a career.
I'm skeptical about Polanco in this regard, too, but for a different reason: He was plenty displeased about this after the game, evidently aware that the Twins had no use for pitching to him after his first-inning double, a rocket to the fence in right-center, raised his very early batting average to .385. By the time he was done, the rest of the slashes showed a .579 on-base percentage and 1.425 OPS.
Walking isn't Polanco's thing, not when he's swinging well. So it's worth a little extra applause that he found enough patience to pull off four in one afternoon under any circumstance.
This could be fun to observe in coming weeks.
• Speaking of 'fun,' that's the term Clint Hurdle used to describe what to expect from his bullpen this summer. And he obviously meant that in an innocently derisive way, as neither he nor anyone can know what's going to happen when these middle relievers get the ball.
Edgar Santana and Josh Smoker got drilled again, Michael Feliz walked two, and Dovydas Neverauskas needed an at-'em-ball double play to dodge damage. It wasn't until George Kontos entered for the save -- Felipe Rivero had pitched two games the previous day -- that anyone looked like they belonged on a big-league mound.
The Pirates' cumulative relief WHIP -- walks and hits per inning pitched -- is 1.61, sixth-highest in the majors. Their 15 walks alone are second-highest.
That's got to change, or not a whole lot else matters.
• Hurdle might raise eyebrows with this remark after the game: "The lineup is longer. I think the lineup is stronger."
He might be right. With or without Andrew McCutchen, comparing the 2018 lineup to 2017 has to underscore the actual involvement of Polanco and Marte. Never mind the peak versions of Polanco and Marte. And if Moran, by far the most pressing question mark, can contribute, then the manager will definitely be right.
• Loved seeing the truly great ElRoy Face tossing out the ceremonial first pitch at age 90. There might not be a more underappreciated player in the Pirates' 132-year history, commensurate to what he accomplished. And that goes double for the 1960 World Series, which he dominated like no one else as a multiple-inning de facto closer. If Face doesn't shut down the Yankees' monstrous lineup every time Danny Murtaugh needed him, at least until he had nothing left for Game 7, then Bill Mazeroski never comes close to stepping into that box in the ninth inning. And Maz himself has told me exactly that.
Beautiful moment. Well done by the Pirates, too, to have this living legend here.
• Deepest condolences to the family and friends of Tony Krizmanich, one of the Pirates' official scorers for 37 years, who passed away Friday.
Mr. Krizmanich, who worked just to my right at PNC Park for several years now, was a wonderfully warm man with a genuine, kind spirit, as well as a consummate professional in a thankless and demanding role. He also did that job with a rare flair, fairly barking into his press box microphone 'BASE! HIT!' when ruling out an error. It was louder for me than most, right next to him, but I loved it. Totally old-school.
He'll be missed. The good ones always are.
MATT SUNDAY GALLERY