Barely 20 feet and barely visible through the blades of grass engulfing it, the ball dribbled off the bat of Phillip Evans and died inside PNC Park's third-base line on this Wednesday night, staying fair if only for its sad lack of momentum, and Evans legged it out for an infield single.
That was the first inning of the Pirates' 3-0 flatliner of a loss to the Brewers, and that, my friends, was the totality of the home team's offensive output here.
Wait, no, I stand corrected: Evans would later walk in the seventh, also off Milwaukee starter Brandon Woodruff. Which is all that separated Woodruff, those two plate appearances, from absolute perfection through his 6 1/3. And since the Brewers' final three relievers ripped through the Pirates' final eight batters, striking out half of them, Evans was all that separate the entire Milwaukee staff from perfection.
Other than that ...
"I think he was just missing our barrels," Evans would say afterward. "He was elevating the fastball and had some good spin. It was sinking a little bit, but we were taking some good swings up there."
If by swings, he means misses, then yeah.
And did Evans, the 27-year-old journeyman infielder who nobody outside immediate family knows is partaking in big-league ball, realize his silly squibber was all that prevented some sort of history?
"You know how baseball goes sometimes. It was just one of those nights.”
Look, I'm not here to pick apart the Pirates for failing against Woodruff. He's a legit ace in an era where the term's as arcane as the concept. He flashed his fastball up to 99 mph, fanned 10, mixed five offerings with savage accuracy and, as the Brewers' manager, Craig Counsell, worded it, "He was brilliant, really. Overpowering, I think, is probably the word that best describes it."
To repeat, there's no shame in losing to that guy. He'll do precisely this to lineups far better than Derek Shelton's on this night. But that, to finally proceed to the point, is my problem that goes beyond this outcome and to the Pirates' overall 2-4 start: I can't be sure what Shelton's best lineup is since, you know, he never seems to write it up.
Cringe away at the collective .174 batting average, but save some cringes for the following, too:
• Jose Osuna, who along with Colin Moran has had the most consistent, aggressive approach of anyone on the team -- monster home run, three hits, four RBIs in 11 at-bats -- was benched for a third game, the second in a row. And by benched, I mean he didn't once pick up a bat in two games that were close enough to merit his use as a pinch-hitter.
Was it because he'd have faced the righty Woodruff?
Wow, sure hope not: Eight of Osuna's 10 home runs last season were against righties, and he batted 62 points higher than against lefties. The home run this season also was off a righty.
And if he's hurt or ailing in any way, that'll be news to us.
• Kevin Newman, the expected leadoff man coming off an excellent rookie year, has sat for two of the six games, including this one. The two times he sat, as with Osuna, he wasn't used to pinch-hit or substitute, either. He simply sat. And he sat in favor of ... Erik Gonzalez?
I mean, Newman's 1 for 16, but you don't bury a young player over that. The only way out of a slump, as Bryan Reynolds is illustrating, is to step into the box regularly.
It isn't to watch Gonzalez do this:
Yet again, Woodruff's good, but that's embarrassing. Any of the handful of folks watching this from the Clemente Bridge could've grabbed a bat and fared just as well.
• Only four players have appeared in all six of Shelton's games: Reynolds, Moran, Josh Bell and Adam Frazier. That's it. Center field and right field have seen tons of rotation, and the catchers are almost alternating to date.
• Still haven't seen the same lineup twice, this despite the DH making that easily attainable.
• Not even sure what to make of this, but Shelton's only twice sent up anyone to pinch-hit. One was Gregory Polanco for Guillermo Heredia in the Tuesday victory, and the other was -- this'll sound worse than it was -- Gonzalez for Moran. The latter was in the opener in St. Louis, once the Cardinals were up by eight. So it's just really one conventional pinch-hitting appearance for the entire team over six games.
I don't get it. Any of it.
Is it because the pandemic still has Shelton thinking every day is Sunday?
Is it because he came from the American League, where DHing makes managing more passive by nature? Is it that in-game substitution is less important to him than a player getting a full game of rest?
Is it that Shelton and/or Don Kelly, his bench coach and a lifelong utilityman as a player, emphasize getting everyone involved to keep everyone happy?
I've tried to find out, but it isn't easy. Going back to St. Louis, Shelton was defensive about his lineups being "scripted in advance" by him and Kelly and vowing he wouldn't be "reactionary" in changing them. He didn't detail how far out they're "scripted" or what other than player availability would constitute a reason to be "reactionary," but he made his feeling on the stance plenty clear.
So hey, on a night like this, there's no way I wasn't going to ask, once again, what he's doing with these lineups. And this was the question, verbatim: I know you've said you won't be reactionary with the lineups, but will there come a point when a player can either hit his way onto or out of your lineup?
This was Shelton's response, also verbatim: "I think we have to give them some sort of consistent at-bats. We’ve played six games. Obviously, it's a shorter season and, obviously, we’re going to take a look at some guys. We’ve run some different lineups out to give us a different look. I think tonight was more the fact that we got pitched to. It wasn’t as much our offense as he really executed a well-designed plan and really executed pitches."
He meant Woodruff, of course. But yeah, sorry, I still don't understand. And with these Zoom calls, unlike standard interview settings in a manager's office, there's virtually zero chance for any meaningful back-and-forth, so what you get is what you get.
Whatever it is, I hope the guy knows what he's doing. He's certainly likable enough, but that can't be the end game.
A manager's goal in making out a lineup can't be to become popular in the clubhouse. Nor can it be to evenly distribute plate appearances for the purpose of evaluation, particularly not when the depth players aren't remotely worthy of further evaluation, such as Gonzalez. Nor is it to ensure, within the unprecedented scope of a 60-game sprint of a season, that elite professional athletes fresh off a four-month break need to kick up their feet and watch every other game.
The goal, unless I've missed some memo, remains to win the freaking game. Maybe Shelton will move that to the top of the list this weekend at Wrigley.