Erik Gonzalez dug in his heels, not once, not twice, but three times.
First, several hours before his sac fly capped the Pirates' ninth-inning rally that cut down the Reds, 3-2, on this sunny Sunday afternoon at PNC Park, he'd led off the affair with a classic hustling double. Dropped a ball into shallow center and never doubted for an instant he'd get the extra bag:
Good stuff, right?
Gonzalez has gotten the chance of a lifetime this summer, and he's gone after it with gusto.
The second time he dug in his heels impressed me that much more. It was later that same inning when, predictably, he was left stranded at that same bag.
Adam Frazier, who should've been focused on a way to advance the runner -- meaning hitting to the right side -- instead flied out the other way, to left. Bryan Reynolds grounded out to third. And Colin Moran was walked on four pitches.
Why was he walked?
Because Gregory Polanco was on deck. And hey, if you were Cincinnati manager David Bell, you'd walk even a .255 hitter to get to Polanco, too, since he's at, uh, .150.
Which led to this pathetic third strike:
I mean, what was that?
At least shorten up and try to put the ball in play with the 1-2 count. You know, maybe venture to bring that runner home from second.
Gonzalez, that runner at second, just might not have appreciated this. (And I qualify with 'might' only because I can't get into the clubhouse in coronavirus times to ask about potentially sensitive subjects like these.) Here's what was plain as plain gets, though: Polanco slammed down his bat, then dropped his helmet as he strolled to the left of the mound to wait for Cole Tucker to bring his glove from the dugout. As that happened, Gonzalez walked up to Polanco, and the two engaged in a visibly animated discussion, with Gonzalez at one point waving his right arm toward left field.
That'd be the field Polanco clearly never considered using even though the Reds had a violent shift on against him, even though simple contact mattered a lot more than getting the ball wet, which is generally Polanco's primary goal.
The whole plate appearance was either stupid or selfish on Polanco's part, and good for Gonzalez, maybe the planet's nicest guy, if he found it in himself to speak anything of the sort.
Which brings me to my point: There's no one on the roster of this particular 13-26 team who's entitled to a place in this lineup.

Positively.
No.
One.
Not Polanco. Not Frazier. Not even Reynolds, Josh Bell, Kevin Newman, Trevor Williams ... no one.
And come 2021, if anyone's to take the management of Ben Cherington and/or Derek Shelton seriously, that had damned well better change.
I asked a lot of questions of a lot of people here on this day, not least of whom was Cherington himself. I'm not at liberty to detail my exchange with the GM, but suffice it to say we're very much on the same page with this: It needs to change and, coming right from his mouth, it will change.
From my mouth, then:
• If it means benching Polanco and the $11 million salary he's guaranteed next season, by far the highest on the roster and thus making him untrade-able, so be it. He'd wind up 0 for 4 on this day with two Ks and six LOBs. His biweekly supersonic outbursts will be missed, but everything in between won't. Plant him on the bench in spite of the paycheck, Jeromy Burnitz-style.
• If it means going with Gonzalez and/or Tucker as the middle infield, and letting Newman and Frazier fight back into the mix, so be it. Gonzalez is having the season of his life, including two more hits in this game, the first walkoff RBI of his career, and he's now slashing .289/.317/.474 with exemplary defense. Tucker's natural position is shortstop, too, and his bat's progressing. Newman and Frazier have regressed in all facets. Let's see who ascends.
• If it means relegating Bell to DH, presuming that stays in place next year and presuming he hits enough to earn it, so be it. He won't like it, and his agent Scott Boras won't like it because it'll devalue his client when he inevitably hits the open market, but none of that means a whit when Bell's slashing .197/.273/.303 with four home runs. If Bell hadn't pulled off that Willie Stargell impersonation last May, he wouldn't have a spot handed to him anymore. And he shouldn't in 2021. Will Craig's a first-round pick who's won a minor-league gold glove at first base and shown some pop in Class AAA. He's no budding star, but he's also not what Bell's been this year. Or maybe just move Moran, another player who's risen above like Gonzalez, across the diamond.
• If it means moving a robustly ineffective Williams out of the rotation for a JT Brubaker type, so be it. He's a long ways off from that one great half-season he had.
• If it means opening all doors to the bullpen ... well, that's kind of what's taken place around here, anyway. Ever since Miguel Del Pozo was mercifully shot into the sun Aug. 8, the relievers' combined ERA of 3.70 has been second-lowest in the National League, trailing only the billion-dollar Dodgers. Geoff Hartlieb, Chris Stratton, Sam Howard, Nik Turley and others have made the most of their opportunities, as they did with five more zeroes in this victory.
• Taking this to the extreme, if it means making Reynolds re-earn the status he achieved as a rookie, when he had to shove back almost daily from being sent back to the minors, so be it.
That last one's where it gets sticky, of course. Because there are certain players in the fold, as Cherington acknowledged to me, who project more than others to be part of the future, and they've got to get their at-bats ... to an extent. So you ride a little longer with Reynolds, with Ke'Bryan Hayes and so forth. But you can't do it forever.
Putting it bluntly, the players I've cited above aren't that good to be worth it. They're just not.
All of them would do well to take heed to the following words from Cherington on this Sunday, the strongest he's spoken in his brief tenure here: "Part of getting better is creating that competitive environment where guys are in a competitive situation, bringing out their best. Shelty and I were talking about that this morning. Think about the position players who've really stepped up this year and played well, maybe taken a step up in their game. Guys like Colin Moran and Erik Gonzalez. They came into spring training knowing they had to compete. Whether it was compete to make the team or compete to get playing time, there was something at stake. Sometimes, there's a correlation between those two things. We want to make sure it's a competitive environment going forward. We certainly expect it to be that case into next spring."
So, why not make that the case now?
The answer's academic, though it obviously couldn't be verbalized by anyone of authority: If Cherington prefers to move one or more of those underperforming pieces, his best chance at securing good value is if one or more of those pieces stops underperforming. There are 21 games left in this long-lost season, so that's the smarter way to go.
But upon reconvening in Bradenton, all bets should be off, all entitlement stripped away. If these players report to the next camp after some .333-ish winning percentage, after a deeply disappointing offensive output, after leading the majors in errors, not a single one of them should show up feeling special.
No, not even Gonzalez.
Fast-forwarding to the third time he dug in his heels, this was the outcome:
Wonderful. He's 29, he's so naturally gifted, and he's had a rough go in the majors, only now finally looking like he's breaking through.
I asked Shelton how much it meant, from a manager's perspective, that this was the guy who came through.
"He’s been outstanding," Shelton began his reply. "We’ve talked about opportunities. We’ve talked about meritocracy in terms of playing. He deserves to play. He’s done a really good job. I think one of the things that happened — and we’ve talked about it — Rick Eckstein did a really nice job with him last year in September with adjustments. Erik got away from those adjustments, but I think we can point to the Minnesota series when they went back to them."
That was Aug. 3-4 in Minneapolis.
"Since that time, he’s been our best player."
The team's best player. Without having it handed to him. Because he got better. Imagine.
I asked Gonzalez if it's possible that he, as one of the roster's older players, might emerge as a leader. And I found his reply fascinating.
"That’s a good question," he began with some small hesitation. "I mean, I’m not a person who says, ‘Hey, you need to do that. You have to do that.’ No, no, I am not that person. I just go by example. I mean, I’m going to play hard everyday. That’s me. I try to put all my talent in the field and, when you do that, I think some try to follow that. You can be a leader when you play hard, when you put all your energy in the field."
Make no mistake: He's leading. Not all are following.
