Bryan Reynolds can't be left standing there without the support of his manager.
Sorry, but he just can't.
Look, this isn't going well. Any of it.
The 2022 edition of the Pittsburgh Baseball Club's a train wreck careening toward the edge of a cliff with nothing but an itty-bitty pile of bird seed to break the fall at the base. Not just with what we see for ourselves, either. The minor-league system, the focal point of what everyone knew would be a painful process, now has but a single prospect among Baseball America's recently revised top 50, that being first-round pick Termarr Johnson. And at all levels, everything from acquisition to development to instruction is fair game for the most brutal of criticism in this, the franchise's third full year under Ben Cherington and Derek Shelton.
With no light in sight, either. Not a target year. Not a pledge to get serious about competing at anything other than some nebulous point that maybe not even Cherington has in mind. Nothing.
Put it this way: In the eighth inning of the Pirates' latest loss, by a 5-3 count to the sub-.500 Red Sox on this Tuesday night at PNC Park, Shelton pinch-hit .177-hitting Greg Allen for .176-hitting Bligh Madris. And he did this an inning after pinch-hitting .188-hitting Josh VanMeter for .160-hitting Kevin Padlo, the latest of Cherington's pathetic waiver claims.
There are tons of adjectives for a scene like that, most of them terribly unclean, but there's one underlying reason for it above all else: They aren't competitive.
Oh, I don't mean that in the standings sense. I mean something way worse: I'm talking about a competitive spirit.
There's no palpable passion in any of them. Not a solitary example anyone could cite over three years. That starts, of course, with Bob Nutting, who, in all candor, has no business being in the business of sports. But until there's evidence to the contrary, it couldn't be clearer that it courses through Cherington, Shelton and ... wow, who knows how far down?
And even saying that much, it's not harsh enough, since it excludes the general regression over which they're all presiding. The 45-71 record. The here-we-go-again 100-loss pace. The latest five-game losing streak, as well as losses in 9 of the past 11.
And did I mention the prospects? Oh, I did, but I left out that Henry Davis, the No. 1 overall pick in the 2021 draft, just plunged to No. 84 on that same Baseball America ranking?
Anyway, let's get back to Reynolds.
Here's what happened in the eighth, with bases loaded, one out and Boston up by five:
Maybe that's a strike. Maybe it isn't. But Roberto Ortiz had squeezed Reynolds two other times on the evening and, most relevant to this context, the Pirates' best player -- and currently their only competent player -- lost his customary Johnny Cash cool in an almost alarming way, screaming at Ortiz and gesturing angrily. In fact, when I'd later bring up with Shelton that it's rare to see Reynolds that animated, he'd amend, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that animated, honestly."
Reynolds' only remark on the matter afterward: “It was just a build-up of different things, and it came out there."
OK, fine.
Now, scroll back up that clip again. Watch only the manager.
Uh-huh. Strolls out, exchanges a few words, turns around, strolls back. And what could be seen from the press box -- meaning all of it -- was that much less moving.
I like Shelton. A lot. I make no secret of it, and I don't apologize for it. He's a genuinely good guy. What's more, I respect his career trajectory to get where he is, as well as the work he invests daily on the job he's got.
I can't say with certainty he should've stormed out there and made damned sure he'd gotten tossed by Ortiz. I don't have the info Shelton does. As well as I know Reynolds, I don't know him as well as Shelton does. I don't understand the resonating impact on an ump or a crew on getting tossed.
But I'm quite comfortable saying this with at least near-certainty: Clint Hurdle would've gotten tossed. Lloyd McClendon would've gotten tossed and uprooted home plate. And Jim Leyland would've gotten tossed, would've done more tossing once back in the clubhouse by overturning the food table before making it to the media room and defending his best player -- and read every syllable of this -- even if that player was wrong.
I asked Shelton after this game his stance on what'd happened with Reynolds.
"The at-bat before, it was a borderline pitch," he replied. "I think Bryan just kind of got to his breaking point."
Again, the manager's got a right to manage the way he wants. Same as I've got a right to disagree, which I very, very vehemently do.
Worse by far, I see it as little more than a symptom of the broader picture, the broader problem that there's no semblance of competitive spirit, not in word and definitely not in deed. And I believe, now more than ever, that it's the foundation of what's become a massive mess.
Which is to say, I've got questions ...
If Cherington's now deep into an eighth consecutive season -- here and in Boston -- of finishing last or next-to-last, isn't it plausible to think he's become comfortable with losing, or comfortable with ignoring the results in favor of the blessed 'process?'
With Roberto Perez having been fairly portrayed by Cherington as such a massive loss, why have all his responses been to reach into the 4-A recycle bin of catchers? Even if one discounts the relevance of winning/losing at this stage, wouldn't the impact on the pitchers alone be worth a viable big-league replacement?
When the Pirates flew home sky-high from that sweep at Dodger Stadium, why was Cherington the only one downplaying it, if not outright dumping on it? Even if only in the hey-this-was-fun sense, couldn't that young group have gained confidence from a little afterglow?
(That one really leaped out at me.)
If Cherington espouses a player-centric culture, as he's raised countless times since the day he was hired, why have the hitters under Andy Haines become near-robotic in swinging out of their shoes in all situations rather than adjusting for two strikes, shortening up, going the other way, all that old-school stuff that tailored to a hitter's actual strengths?
I asked Shelton this one before this game:
That answer satisfy anyone?
Or does it sound as if they might not have better answers available?
Why is it, as one veteran whispered to me on the recent trip to Denver, that players get called up from Indianapolis and hit like crazy, then cool off within a week, then fold into the worst hitter in history within two?
Why is it OK to reflexively demote young players who are struggling rather than wondering if enough had been done here to help them?
If Jack Suwinski's the most electric power bat among all big-league rookies for two full months, is there anywhere else -- and I'm talking anywhere -- where he could've fallen apart the way he has?
If I repeated the preceding question and essentially replaced the theme with Oneil Cruz, would there still be no answer other than to debate whether or not he should go back to Indy yet again?
If Haines isn't the worst hitting coach in the National League -- and he's already two deep in Central teams that've let him go -- then how to explain these Pirates being the worst offensive team our citizens have seen in their lifetimes?
If it's the hitters and not Haines, then who's evaluating the hitters? And acquiring them? And repeatedly placing them in the most randomized spots of any given lineup?
If there are hitters on this roster currently receiving outside instruction -- even paying for it -- would that be more or less surprising than Mitch Keller having righted himself this summer by adopting the same approach this past winter?
If the fielding and fundamentals were a pleasant surprise in 2021, what the hell's happened since?
If Michael Chavis outperforms almost all of his teammates in all areas, which he does, who does he need to bribe to play ahead of some of his worst teammates?
What was the point of Yoshi Tsutsugo? And Yu Chang? And VanMeter? And now this new guy whose name I've already forgotten since the sixth paragraph? And probably a half-dozen other reclamation projects forced into the lineup even when younger, better options have been available? What would've been the plus had they succeeded within a window being arranged around young pitchers, most of whom haven't even arrived yet?
Is there any doubt that Yoshi will be the next Joe Carter this fall in Toronto?
Was it really worth it to cost Roansy Contreras a month in the majors to save a few bucks on arbitration three years from now? If that wasn't Nutting's ultimate call, and I'd presume this one was, how could it be rationalized by baseball people?
Has anyone weighed that Cherington's now traded Starling Marte, Jameson Taillon, Joe Musgrove, Josh Bell and the All-Star version of Adam Frazier ... and are here today with one prospect among Baseball America's top 50? Even if accepting that those weren't elite trade commodities, couldn't any prospect have matured beyond expectations?
Which prospect has matured beyond expectations?
If that answer is Cruz, who'll remember that he was acquired by Neal Huntington?
Is Nutting aware that his most pointed criticism of the Huntington front office -- that players invariably get better upon leaving Pittsburgh -- hasn't changed course by an inch under Cherington/Shelton? Anyone need a reminder of the names?
Is Nutting in need of a reminder, for that matter, that winning with a $100 million payroll is more lucrative than losing with a low one? Meaning right here in Pittsburgh? Meaning I'm not guessing at this?
Is anyone embarrassed by a stadium stuffed with Boston fans on a sweet summer's night ... not long after similar settings for New Yorkers and Philadelphians?
Is anyone embarrassed?
By any of it?
I could do this all day. One gets the idea: This is regression. It's ugly. It's universal. It's unacceptable to the extreme.
Which leads to a final question: In the unlikely event of actual accountability, if yet another management team fails and (eventually, finally) gets fired, what's it say that the only common denominator still standing would be the owner?
THE ESSENTIALS
• Boxscore
• Live file
• Standings
• Statistics
• Schedule
• Scoreboard
THE HIGHLIGHTS
THE INJURIES
• 10-day injured list: 3B Ke'Bryan Hayes (strained mid-back muscle), C Tyler Heineman (right groin strain)
• 15-day injured list: RHP David Bednar (low back), LHP Dillon Peters (left elbow inflammation)
• 60-day injured list: RHP Yerry De Los Santos (lat), OF Canaan Njigba-Smith (wrist), RHP Blake Cederlind (elbow), RHP Nick Mears (elbow), RHP Max Kranick (elbow), C Roberto Pérez (hamstring)
THE LINEUPS
Shelton's card:
1. Tucupita Marcano, LF
2. Kevin Newman, 2B
3. Bryan Reynolds, CF
4. Ben Gamel, DH
5. Kevin Padlo, 1B
6. Oneil Cruz, SS
7. Rodolfo Castro, 3B
8. Bligh Madris, RF
9. Jason Delay, C
And for Alex Cora's Red Sox:
1. Tommy Pham, LF
2. Rafael Devers, 3B
3. J.D. Martinez, DH
4. Alex Verdugo, RF
5. Christian Arroyo, 2B
6. Eric Hosmer, 1B
7. Kiké Hernández, SS
8. Reese McGuire, C
9. Jarren Duran, CF
THE SCHEDULE
Middle match of the three game series pits Contreras against 42-year-old lefty Rich Hill, those counterparts separated by two decades in age. Alex Stumpf's got that.
THE CONTENT
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