Fire everyone.
Because the two best players the Pittsburgh Baseball Club has known over the 12 years this front office has been in power ... were acquired by the previous front office.
Andrew McCutchen's universally accepted as the Pirates' best of this generation, and that's as it should be. National League MVP in 2013. Led the Pirates to their first playoffs in two decades that same year. Civic treasure. He's earned all the love and then some.
But what of Starling Marte?
Seriously, does anyone inside Pittsburgh, much less around Major League Baseball, realize what this team's had with this extraordinary talent in center field?
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And no, I'm not asking just because he whacked a three-run home run in the eighth inning Tuesday night at PNC Park -- the other way off the outer half of the plate in a two-strike count, no less -- to define a 4-1 victory over the Nationals ...
... or that he punctuated the outcome, as well, with one of the finest fence-leaping catches of his career for the final out:
Let's instead take it all a whole lot further: At age 30, in his eighth season in the majors, all in the same uniform, Marte's been nothing less than his team's MVP. Not Josh Bell. Not Bryan Reynolds. Not Felipe Vazquez. Because none of those three, with all due respect, can rival the combination of Marte's contributions at the plate, in the field and on the basepaths: He's slashing .291/.303/.505 with 22 home runs, 73 RBIs, 22 for 26 in steals and seven outfield assists.
The only one of those numbers that leads the team is the steals. But that's missing the point, as he's the only one to close to the top in every category. All while putting up 513 plate appearances amid all the rigors of all that ground to cover, all that running and, for that matter, being hit by 13 pitches because he refuses to cede his strike zone.
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I asked Clint Hurdle after this game if Marte's been his most consistent performer, fully expecting some reluctance to answer.
Wow, no.
"Yes, he has," Hurdle replied immediately. "And I say that without hesitation. The amount of defense he's had to play, nobody's talked about that. We've played a lot of defense this year."
Ouch. Very true.
"And he's had to go out in that outfield and run down a lot of balls. And he's provided a lot of offense. And he's stolen 20-plus bases. So the physical toll for him to stay in the hunt ... you know, one of his goals coming into this season was to be dependable, and he's been very, very dependable."
The seven outfield assists are second among all National League outfielders, as is the 2.39 range factor. His 998 1/3 innings rank No. 1, as do his 254 putouts. As Hurdle emphasized, no one's spent more time in the sun and no one's been busier.
Offensively, his .838 OPS and his 22 home runs rank fourth in all of Major League Baseball among center fielders, his 22 steals are the most, and the only ones with more RBIs than his 73 are the Angels' Mike Trout with 94 and the Diamondbacks' Ketel Marte with 74.
Rewinding to the max, over his full career, Marte's 28.3 WAR -- wins above replacement player, a wonderful catch-all metric -- is neck-and-neck with Bryce Harper's 29.8 within the same span, 2012-19. And the next sentence you'd read anywhere comparing those two ... was probably the one you just read.
We're talking about, easily, one of the three best overall players in the game at arguably its most dynamic and challenging position. And one of those three, Trout, is shaped by some metrics as being among the best at any position in baseball history, so it almost feels like he shouldn't count.
I'll ask it again: Is anyone noticing this? Not just here but anywhere?
I asked Bell.
"I think I understand, to an extent," the big man answered. "I feel like he's one of those guys who makes plays look easy that maybe he doesn't get as much credit for it as someone else might. I mean, there was the catch at the wall tonight, but how about the play coming in on Turner?"
Oh, good one. That was this in the third inning on Washington's Trea Turner:
Someone else can make that catch, sure, but it'd be a circus.
"All Starling does is reach top speed within a second, and he's right under that. No highlight," Bell continued. "And then you see what he did in the eighth and ninth. He picked our team up on his shoulders. That's who he is. So, no, he doesn't get the credit he deserves. But believe me, we see it."
I asked Jacob Stallings, always strong with the broader perspective.
"I don't think he gets talked about enough anywhere," Stallings replied. "I mean, he is so talented. And obviously, he's had a lot of good years, but I feel like, this year, I've seen a little bit of a change in him. He literally won't let anyone take him out of the lineup. Big hit after big hit. And then he makes plays like this."
I asked Reynolds, too.
"He's special. Everything he does. He hits for average, hits for power, he's fast, he catches everything, strong-armed ... I mean, he can do it all. How many of those guys are there? How can you not appreciate that?"
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I've known Marte since he was 18 years old. Met him as a baby-faced prospect upon a visit to the Dominican Republic. Remarked at the time that he was built like a young Darryl Strawberry. Also instantly gravitated toward his personality, his smile that he'd flash to try to bridge barely speaking a syllable of English. He was eager to impress.
In all that time, I never once asked him the question I asked after this game: Does he feel he doesn't get enough respect, either in Pittsburgh or around baseball? And does he care?
Hoo-boy.
"Unfortunately, no," Marte replied through interpreter Mike Gonzalez, whose assistance I sought to ensure there'd be no misunderstanding. "I don't think I've gotten the recognition or even the support. I know that every day I come in here and I give my best — my preparation, my execution. But I also know I'm a quiet player. I don't make a lot of noise. I don't try to bring a lot of attention to myself. And maybe that's part of it. But at the end of the day, I know I'm a good player. I know I've impressed a lot of people. But unfortunately, no, I haven't felt that level of support."
He winced slightly before continuing.
"But it's OK. I try not to pay attention. I try not to care too much. I just continue trying to battle for my teammates, for the team I represent. And for my name."
And for his name.
Yeah, he screwed up with the steroids. He cheated. I ripped him as much as anyone at the time, and no, I'd never cast a Hall of Fame vote for him anymore than I would any other known cheater. But he also served his time, the 80-game suspension in 2017, and, more important by far, he returned a better player. A more complete player. A more mature player.
That's my focus here. It's how he's bounced back. It's what he's become. And how he still, in spite of that, hasn't seemed to catch on, even within the local fan base, which I'm certain was what he was referencing with the repeated use of the term "support" up there.
I'd heard for the longest time how he'd be bugged that McCutchen would get all the appreciation. Or Gregory Polanco upon his almost surreal arrival into the majors. There was never that similar clamoring among fans for Marte to make it to the majors and, once he did, he was just another piece on those playoff teams with Cutch as the face and A.J. Burnett and Russell Martin winning everyone over in other ways. I never got the sense it was jealousy, though. It was more confusion. It was wondering what did they do so right that he was doing so wrong.
On July 29 in New York, Marte stroked a couple of hits to give him 1,000 for his career. That brought about two very distinct moods.
The first, because the team had lost again, was to find me in the locker room, take my elbow and whisper into my ear something terribly unprintable about how his team had been performing at the time. I respected that. This nosedive, which obviously only worsened by a mile after that, has taken a toll on him.
That was easy to see even when I brought it up on this uplifting night:
The second mood that day in New York was one of pride. He knew he'd reached 1,000 hits, but he didn't know until I rattled off to him what kind of company he was now keeping for the only franchise he's known: He was the 11th in the Pirates' history to achieve 1,000 hits and 100 home runs. (He's now got 1,026 and 107, respectively.) Five of the other 10 in that category are in the Hall of Fame: Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski, Paul Waner and Ralph Kiner. The rest: Dave Parker, Al Oliver, Andy Van Slyke, Richie Hebner and, of course, Cutch.
The only other player in franchise history to hit 100 home runs and steal 200 bases?
The skinny version of Barry Bonds.
He was moved by that. Visibly. Deeply. And if and when he'll wind up playing somewhere else, that'll be the memory, for me, that stands out. He's been a very good big-league player, but he's been an exceptional member of the Pirates by any measure. And he's cared about precisely that.
In turn, he's always hoped that his own love of city and team would be reciprocated. But it hasn't been. He's always hoped he could be accepted by teammates and coaches the way other veterans were. But he wasn't. And he didn't always go about it well. He'd pouted. He'd stick his head in his stall and shut up.
As I reminded him after this game, there have been times he's needed a swift kick in the rear, more than once, to get revved up anew.
This calendar year, he's gotten them. And how.
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Sure, he'll do dumb, inexplicable things. He's anything but dumb, but as all of us can attest in some form or other, we're all capable of doing dumb, inexplicable things. And his can be doozies.
“You take the good with the bad,” Kimera Bartee, the outfield instructor, was telling me on the recent trip to St. Louis. He was talking about Marte. “He’s an elite athlete. There are some days when he can literally out-athlete the game. And there are other days where … he gets exposed. But you take that.”
That was Bartee's way of saying, basically, that he could live with Marte's occasional lapses, whatever caused them, so long as Marte didn't pump the brakes on his own ability. And that's the sweetest summation possible for the overall organizational approach to him entering spring training. Hurdle met with him one-on-one to broach taking on a leadership role, something once unthinkable. He wasn't asked to scream and shout but, rather, to set an example by being the peak version of himself. The coaches followed suit, as did teammates.
One stood out.
"That guy right there," Marte told me after this game. He was pointing to the now-empty stall of Melky Cabrera. "He means everything to me. He tells me every game, every at-bat how much he believes. I can say so much about him. I never had someone like him."
Scroll back up to the photo atop this column. When Marte made that catch, it was Cabrera who embraced him in a playful headlock all the way back into the infield, where he could be congratulated by his teammates. When Marte hit that home run, Cabrera was the first one his way -- after Hurdle -- for a hug, a high-five and, yeah, another headlock.
It's been a similar approach across the board. No one notices the lapses and dumb things more than his manager, his coaches and teammates. But they've come to grips with what's most valuable for all concerned and found a way to handle it.
Joe Musgrove, one of the team's more vocal leaders of late, laid it out for me after this game.
"I'll tell you this right now: Starling gets all the recognition, all the respect in this clubhouse," he'd say. "And I'm not just saying that as a starting pitcher hoping to see his name in that No. 3 hole in that lineup card. We respect him as a player, as a teammate, as a person. And I honestly think he's pretty well respected around the league. I feel like, as a player, you want that respect from other players more than you do from the fans."
OK, so are the lapses a good enough reason for Pittsburghers to feel as they seemingly do about him?
"You know, you'll see something happen every now and again, and people won't like it," Musgrove said of the lapses. "But he's also a smart player. He knows when it's time to hustle, when it's time to pull up a little bit."
Musgrove recalled his time with the Astros, when Alex Bregman arrived in Houston as an exceptional prospect whose effort was so unsustainably off the charts that veterans Jose Altuve and George Springer had to pull him aside.
"Those guys were watching him run like crazy on every ground ball back to the pitcher, and they were like, 'Hey, man, there are 162 of these games. You don't have to be that guy that busts ass on every play. We need you the whole way.' But Starling's been around. He knows when he can get a hit, and when he can't. He manages it. And he's out there for us everyday. I think he does it right."
He's never done it better. The .838 OPS, should it hold, would be the best of his career. The 22 home runs already are. The defense is more sound, more consistent than ever. And his speed is such that he's often dusting himself off at second without a throw.
There aren't many like him. Maybe it'll take his departure to fully demonstrate that.
