"The math has turned against us a bit here of late."
And there it was, shortly before the Pirates took to the field on this steamy Sunday afternoon at PNC Park for their latest loss, 8-4 in 10 innings to the Giants, a quote that so extraordinarily encapsulates everything that's gone so wrong with this 2023 season in the span of a few simple syllables.
The math. So that's it, you guys. It's been the bleeping math all along.
This came from Ben Cherington, of course, as part of the weekly radio show that this team's GMs have been doing now for more than a half-century, and yet I'll bet there's never been one -- not from Joe L. Brown, Syd Thrift, Cam Bonifay, Dave Littlefield, nor even Neal Huntington -- who'd ever found fault, first and foremost, with the math involved in one of the most complete collapses of any team our city's seen in any sport.
But that's how Cherington thinks. That's how the whole operation thinks. That's how it's run.
And be very sure that's also why it's now being run into the ground.
See, it was Cherington who, in May, soon after that awesome April had begun to sour, blurted out on that same show that management's internal analytics had forecast the Pirates to have a worse record than they had at that stage. Specifically, he was asked if the team had projected being over .500 through 51 games, and he replied, “No. And I don’t think many others did, either. I don’t mind saying that.”
I still can't imagine how he thought it was OK to publicly acknowledge that his own employees felt the roster that he'd built -- in the fourth year of his tenure here -- was built to lose and, to boot, was allowed to enter the season as a projected loser. But hey, maybe that's just me.
Regardless, this new blurt's so much more revealing. Because what Cherington was really showing in May, at least from this perspective, was that he never was going to take this season seriously enough. Just as the entire outfit, from Bob Nutting and Travis Williams on down to Derek Shelton, never were going to take this season seriously. They always viewed, as I reported last fall, 2024 as the first season they'd contend and, by God, there wasn't about to be any detour.
Why?
Because that's what their broader internal projections have shown for a while. Because that's what the math shows.
So even after 20-8 happened, even after Andrew McCutchen came home, even after Bryan Reynolds' extension, even after Mitch Keller's ascent to All-Stardom, even after Jack Suwinski began to blossom, even after the civic storm that ensued as the what-in-the-hell-are-the-Pittsburgh-Pirates-doing-in-first-place somehow staying up there for two months ... it was the math that kept leading the mindset: They weren't supposed to be there. This wasn't supposed to be the time. And most prominent, I'll bet: This is about to be blown to bits.
Which it sure as hell has been. Since that 20-8 start through April 29, their ranks among Major League Baseball's 30 teams:
• Record: 21-44 (28th)
• Runs: 230 (30th)
• Batting average: .225 (29th)
• OBP: .300 (28th)
• Home runs: 49 (29th)
• ERA: 4.81 (26th)
• WHIP: 1.43 (25th)
Short version: Same crap. No change from 2020, 2021 or 2022, other than that we aren't wearing masks anymore.
To Cherington and management, this was little more than the math boomeranging the Pirates back to reality. A formulaic regression to the mean.
But for me -- and possibly many others, judging by the general disgust about town -- wondering why everyone at 115 Federal has seemed to just passively accept that this was all fate.
When Oneil Cruz went down in early April, the only move made to replace him was to promote Tucupita Marcano. Who can't hit, can't field and can't throw, but otherwise made for an ideal replacement.
Was that the math just kinda doing its thing?
When the offense plunged to depths unseen since the 1800s, the only move made to get it going was ... hang on, I'm sure there had to be at least one ... oh, yeah, Josh Palacios came up. Maybe Miguel Andujar, too, though I can't recall. No external additions were made and, more egregious, none of the younger players who could actually hit were called up until the past couple weeks with Henry Davis, Nick Gonzales, and now Endy Rodriguez and Liover Peguero both on the way for Quinn Priester's debut Monday.
Woo-hoo!
I mean, it's swell that they're here and all, but it's like lighting fireworks on the Fifth of July.
Does the math explain why such moves didn't come when they could've made an actual difference?
Does the math explain perpetually taking the cheap route with Super-2 arbitration?
Does the math explain preserving at any cost the everyday status of Austin Hedges, the worst regular player I've ever -- as in ever -- seen wearing the uniform?
Does the math explain the universal failure to find answers for one or more of Roansy Contreras, Luis Ortiz and now Rodolfo Castro, all three being vital pieces of the future, all three having grossly regressed and having been returned to the minors?
Does the math explain Oscar Marin having to take Contreras to an independent pitching lab in Seattle during the recent trip there because no one employed by the team can figure out why his fastball's now a meatball?
Does the math explain the Pirates hiring and far-more-inexplicably retaining a twice-failed hitting coach in Andy Haines through all this?
Does the math explain Bryan Reynolds and Ke'Bryan Hayes, recipients of the two biggest baseball contracts in the franchise's 142-year history, getting less and less productive with each passing month?
Does the math explain Derek Shelton asking Marcano to try a safety-squeeze bunt on this very day -- not once but twice -- with the score tied, 3-3, in the eighth inning, runners at the corners and one out?
If anyone thinks I'm making that up ...
... Marcano fouled off both bunt attempts, then swung through the third straight sweeper San Francisco lefty Taylor Rogers fed him.
I asked Shelton: Why bunt at all?
"We have to get the bunt down," he replied firmly. "We have to execute in that situation. If you run the safety squeeze correctly, there's no way to defend it. You've just got to get it down on the grass."
I mean, this is a team that's proven to be unable to bunt, but whatever. I followed up by asking about the second attempt, which certainly wasn't about to surprise the Giants' drawn-in infield.
"If the ball's hit where Wilmer Flores is at or where J.D. Davis is at," Shelton would say of San Francisco's first and third baseman, respectively, "plus a left-handed pitcher out there, there's no chance of making that play."
Does the math explain that rationale, which strikes me as defeatism in a way to go for a bunt when the preceding hitter, Jared Triolo, had just hit a sacrifice fly?
Does the math explain the roster dragging along a player who can't be trusted to loft a sac fly?
Does the math explain why, after Nick Gonzales was then hit by a pitch to load the bases again, Shelton let Jason Delay bat rather than pinch-hitting with Ji-Man Choi?
If I'm lyin', I'm dyin':
Bounced a foot in front of the plate.
"Going into a left-on-left at-bat with two outs," was Shelton's explanation on that front.
There's no circumstance in which Delay, the backup-on-merit to the worst regular player I've ever seen in the uniform, presents a smarter option than a veteran hitter like Choi, and never mind that he's had a hot bat of late and, even if the splits wouldn't favor him, he'd have an infinitely greater chance of working the bases-loaded walk.
But hey, the math says it was all inevitable, right?
Here's what I think should be inevitable: If this collapse keeps up -- and the current rate of collapse, per the math, will bring a 98-loss finish -- there shouldn't be a job that's safe at any level of the organization.
It's one thing to plod along at a .333 pace in Years 1, 2 and maybe even 3 of a rebuild. But again, this is Year 4 and, like it or not, April did give at least a glimpse of potential for this group, one that can't be squeezed back in the toothpaste tube. Which should give Nutting and Williams a crystal-clear idea of whether this is now bad management, bad instruction or both.
I asked Reynolds after this game, without elaboration, what's changed from then to now?
"Nothing's changed in the locker room," came the barely audible response. "It's just we're not doing the ... If we pitch, we don't hit. If we hit, we give up runs. It's hard to win like that. It's just ... we've got to play better baseball."
Bundle of joy up there. But believe me, was among the brightest spots in that morose atmosphere.
Heck, even the typically unflappable Shelton was asked if he's disheartened by the Pirates' dramatic drop this summer, and he answered only with a terse, "Yes."
Asked then if it's surprised him, he added, "I don't know if it surprises me. We just have to play better."
Nah, it's not a surprise at all. None of this. Self-fulfilling prophecy.
THE ESSENTIALS
• Boxscore
• Live file
• Team feed
• Standings
• Statistics
• Schedule
• Scoreboard
THE HIGHLIGHTS
THE INJURIES
• 10-day injured list: 2B Ji Hwan Bae (ankle), 3B Ke'Bryan Hayes (lower back)
• 60-day injured list: SS Oneil Cruz (ankle), RHP Wil Crowe (shoulder), RHP JT Brubaker (elbow), LHP Jarlin Garcia (elbow), RHP Max Kranick (elbow), RHP Vince Velasquez (elbow)
THE LINEUPS
Shelton's card:
1. Connor Joe, LF
2. Bryan Reynolds, CF
3. Andrew McCutchen, DH
4. Carlos Santana,1B
5. Henry Davis, RF
6. Jared Triolo, 3B
7. Tucupita Marcano, SS
8. Nick Gonzales, 2B
9. Jason Delay, C
And for Gabe Kapler's Giants:
1. LaMonte Wade Jr., 1B
2. Joc Pederson, DH
3. J.D. Davis, 3B
4. Michael Conforto, RF
5. Mike Yastrzemski, LF
6. Luis Matos, CF
7. Blake Sabol, C
8. Brandon Crawford, SS
9. Brett Wisely, 2B
THE SCHEDULE
It's the Priester debut. And the Rodriguez debut. And the Peguero for-real debut. The Guardians are here for the first time as the Guardians, and it's a 7:05 p.m. first pitch at PNC Park.
THE MULTIMEDIA
THE CONTENT
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