No, these Pirates aren't 15-30 because the umps disrespect them.
And no, they didn't fall apart, 8-4, against the Phillies tonight here at Citizens Bank Park because one ump might've disrespected them in missing one critical call.
I mean ... please.
The real reason, of course, remains that Ben Cherington's been butchering every facet of franchise-building to the extreme that now, in Year 6 of this front office, the roster's been reduced to putting forth the following lineup for this particular event:
1. Isiah Kiner-Falefa, age 30, average .276 2. Andrew McCutchen, age 38, average .254 3. Joey Bart, age 28, average .280 4. Ke'Bryan Hayes, age 28, average .253 5. Alexander Canario, age 25, average .231 6. Nick Solak, age 30, just promoted 7. Tommy Pham, age 37, average .179 8. Matt Gorski, age 27, average .195 9. Jared Triolo, age 27, average .148
That actually happened. Take a pause. Soak it in.
Sure, Bryan Reynolds was given a day off amid a 2-for-46 nosedive, and Oneil Cruz has been limited by back tightness. But that was still the reality -- both the ages and the averages -- of how far the organization's fortunes have fallen, top to bottom. With Canario as the 25-year-old as the resident kid on the block. With a 30-year-old Solak the unquestioned best option for a recall from Indianapolis rather than the backlog of prospects that should've been amassed there by now, And with three regulars 30 or older, one of them not hitting his weight.
My friends, the Cherington's portfolio's the beginning, the middle and the end of any discussion on this subject, at least this side of Bob Nutting's too-low payrolls amid too-low revenues.
That's obvious, right?
OK, now, want to know something else I'm finding to be just as obvious?
By the time Cherington's out, presumably after this summer, there'll still be a manager in position. A damned good manager. A Pittsburgh kinda manager, at that.
____________________
I didn't know Don Kelly had veins like these.
I knew the other Kelly. The one who welled up in front of me 18 years ago in Bradenton, Fla., upon being told he'd finally made it to the majors. And to boot, he'd made it for his hometown Buccos, a son of Butler, Pa., and Mt. Lebanon High School and Point Park University right Downtown. He'd made it the way he'd always wanted to make it, in black and gold.
I knew the kindest, happiest, easy-going-est guy in this universe or any other. The one who's been loved forever wherever he goes. The one essentially adopted by Jim Leyland.
This one with the veins, the wide eyes, the beet-red complexion, I didn't know.
But I should've.
In the seventh inning here tonight, the Pirates were up, 3-1, and with cause to be feeling pretty good about themselves. Canario's three-run home run was their first of those by anyone in nearly a month. Andrew Heaney was sharp through five, and Colin Holderman through the sixth. Kelly stuck with Holderman into the seventh, and that brought a quick out, followed by Johan Rojas working him for an eight-pitch walk, followed by Tommy Pham unable to make a sliding catch on a Trae Turner popup.
Hardly Holderman's fault, but Kelly turned to Ryan Borucki, who's been one of the bullpen's best. And six pitches later, Borucki whipped up a wicked slider for a whiff of none other than Bryce Harper, who ... wait ... what?
After Joey Bart's appeal to third base, the umpire down there, John Libka, gave the safe sign to rule that Harper had checked his swing?
With the bat in THIS location?
MARKO KOVACEVIC / DKPS
Oh, my.
Out came Kelly, but only after Libka had barked in his direction about standing near the dugout railing. And away they went:
Don Kelly has been ejected after the 3rd base ump missed a check-swing call in a 3-2 count pic.twitter.com/vOMnKkFKcG
Second ejection for Kelly in his tenure of, uh, one week. And seemingly, two more than we'd witnessed in a half-decade from the maddeningly even-keeled Derek Shelton, who'd only ever show real emotion, oddly, when he felt rules or clock violations were being misinterpreted.
I asked Kelly afterward, within the formal press conference in his office, if he'd felt the Pirates were disrespected in that scenario, and if that might've been what merited his response:
"That's tough," he'd reply. "That call, I felt, was a huge point in that game, and I have their back. I have our guys’ back. These guys are going out there, competing, battling, and I didn’t think it was something ... that call was a big point that changed the game, and I’m going to have our guys’ back."
Sounded good. Wasn't enough for me.
The office cleared out, and I asked it again. Because we weren't on the record, I can't lay out the elaboration he offered about the incident and other similar subjects.
I'll say this, though, and I'll say it with gusto: He's the manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates. He's emotionally invested to the core, in part because it's the opportunity of his coaching lifetime, but also -- legitimately -- because it's the Pirates. Because of the logo on his chest. Because of how he thumped it as we spoke. Because of all the others who've worn it, when he was a child going to games at Three Rivers, then teammates, then so many more, then those who become alumni.
Believe it or not, those people exist. Steve Blass exists. Manny Sanguillen exists. Kent Tekulve exists. The great Dave Parker's about to wear a pillbox for his long-overdue induction into Cooperstown. The equally-great-in-his-own-way Cutch has committed the bulk of his career.
They've made a mega-mess of things of late. I get that better than most, I'm guessing. But the 144 years, five World Series championships and all the other syrupy stuff ... that exists. And that's real for a lot of folks.
Kelly's one of them.
He's ready to fight for it.
And in an environment where one of the most awful questions that gets asked from the outside is whether or not anyone on the inside even cares ... man, I've been saying this for a long time now, but it'd take someone special, from someplace special like ours, to make a meaningful difference.
The things I saw and heard from Kelly on this day, the energy, the bouncing from place to place, the one-on-one conversations ... it's been a long time since I'd seen that in the Pirates' world. The things I saw and heard from those around him ... no different.
Now, his baseball acumen and angles will be paramount. And there, too, he's off to an encouraging start on a couple fronts.
See that Canario blast in this one?
That's not an accident. In a month under Shelton, when Canario was buried behind Pham and others, he totaled 27 at-bats and an .097 average. He's now got a seven-game hitting streak, 10 for his past 24, with two home runs and two doubles.
Oh, and as long as I'm peeling back the figurative onion here, Kelly's spent extra time communicating -- with help, if needed -- with all of his Latin American and other international players. I watched one such session on this very day with Cruz. Whereas Shelton allowed one situation with one specific player to fester last summer, eventually resulting in the Latin American players throwing their own little, late-night clubhouse party -- after a game -- when another player they perceived as a problem had been released.
Notice how much crisper Holderman's been?
One earned run over his first four appearances this month, all under Kelly, all before he'd get tagged with a couple of very much undeserved runs in this one.
That's not an accident. He's not saying this, but I am: In Shelton's final game managing Holderman, he publicly stated, "We didn't execute a pitch," in plainly singling out Holderman when even the most untrained eye could see that Holderman executed it perfectly, only to see a fine swing put on it. Which everyone on the team could see, too.
When I'd asked Kelly a question about how well I thought Holderman had pitched, Kelly asked if I could venture out to the clubhouse and repeat that to Holderman. (I did, but somewhat teasingly.) But regardless, Kelly told me had plans to text Holderman to reiterate that himself, something he's done with a bunch of these guys.)
I approached Holderman after this game and, upon informing him I wanted to ask about Kelly, he reflexively replied, "Oh, good. I welcome that."
"It means the world to us knowing our manager has our back, like what you just saw out there," he'd proceed. "We're out there giving our all, and all you want is a manager who is up there on the top step really just fighting there with you. That's exactly what we have with DK. There's no one that wants it more for us as an organization, as teammates, as people, than him."
I asked Holderman if, after watching so much of the lifeless crap -- my term, not his -- that we'd watched the past couple years, the fight's back in this team.
"Yes, 100 percent. Showing up every day, there's a different vibe and we're here ready to work and ready to win. It started with our meeting with him when we announced him as interim manager, and you could tell the vibe shifted. We're here and we're ready to compete."
____________________
So yeah, call him a Pittsburgh kinda manager. He's earned it. He comes equipped with our passion, our perseverance, our candor and our collective work ethic.
Just don't call him an interim manager, as Holderman mistakenly -- and forgivably -- did in that last quote up there. Not so much because there was no such asterisk attached to Kelly's title in the initial press release but, rather, because it'd be incorrect. From everything I've found out these past few days, both now and far into the future, this is Kelly's job. If he fares well, within whatever could constitute fair parameters, it's his. And that'll be the case regardless of anyone else over or under him.
He'll stay if/when this ever gets good. That's what I'm saying. I'm not just advocating it. I'm communicating it, based on what I've been told.
This isn't some resume-booster. Kelly's not calling a 78-year-old Gene Lamont out of retirement to help him persist through a few months. He's not looking for anything beyond making the very best of what's right in front of his face.
THE ASYLUM
DK: Now THAT'S how a Pittsburgh manager does it!
No, these Pirates aren't 15-30 because the umps disrespect them.
And no, they didn't fall apart, 8-4, against the Phillies tonight here at Citizens Bank Park because one ump might've disrespected them in missing one critical call.
I mean ... please.
The real reason, of course, remains that Ben Cherington's been butchering every facet of franchise-building to the extreme that now, in Year 6 of this front office, the roster's been reduced to putting forth the following lineup for this particular event:
1. Isiah Kiner-Falefa, age 30, average .276
2. Andrew McCutchen, age 38, average .254
3. Joey Bart, age 28, average .280
4. Ke'Bryan Hayes, age 28, average .253
5. Alexander Canario, age 25, average .231
6. Nick Solak, age 30, just promoted
7. Tommy Pham, age 37, average .179
8. Matt Gorski, age 27, average .195
9. Jared Triolo, age 27, average .148
That actually happened. Take a pause. Soak it in.
Sure, Bryan Reynolds was given a day off amid a 2-for-46 nosedive, and Oneil Cruz has been limited by back tightness. But that was still the reality -- both the ages and the averages -- of how far the organization's fortunes have fallen, top to bottom. With Canario as the 25-year-old as the resident kid on the block. With a 30-year-old Solak the unquestioned best option for a recall from Indianapolis rather than the backlog of prospects that should've been amassed there by now, And with three regulars 30 or older, one of them not hitting his weight.
My friends, the Cherington's portfolio's the beginning, the middle and the end of any discussion on this subject, at least this side of Bob Nutting's too-low payrolls amid too-low revenues.
That's obvious, right?
OK, now, want to know something else I'm finding to be just as obvious?
By the time Cherington's out, presumably after this summer, there'll still be a manager in position. A damned good manager. A Pittsburgh kinda manager, at that.
____________________
I didn't know Don Kelly had veins like these.
I knew the other Kelly. The one who welled up in front of me 18 years ago in Bradenton, Fla., upon being told he'd finally made it to the majors. And to boot, he'd made it for his hometown Buccos, a son of Butler, Pa., and Mt. Lebanon High School and Point Park University right Downtown. He'd made it the way he'd always wanted to make it, in black and gold.
I knew the kindest, happiest, easy-going-est guy in this universe or any other. The one who's been loved forever wherever he goes. The one essentially adopted by Jim Leyland.
This one with the veins, the wide eyes, the beet-red complexion, I didn't know.
But I should've.
In the seventh inning here tonight, the Pirates were up, 3-1, and with cause to be feeling pretty good about themselves. Canario's three-run home run was their first of those by anyone in nearly a month. Andrew Heaney was sharp through five, and Colin Holderman through the sixth. Kelly stuck with Holderman into the seventh, and that brought a quick out, followed by Johan Rojas working him for an eight-pitch walk, followed by Tommy Pham unable to make a sliding catch on a Trae Turner popup.
Hardly Holderman's fault, but Kelly turned to Ryan Borucki, who's been one of the bullpen's best. And six pitches later, Borucki whipped up a wicked slider for a whiff of none other than Bryce Harper, who ... wait ... what?
After Joey Bart's appeal to third base, the umpire down there, John Libka, gave the safe sign to rule that Harper had checked his swing?
With the bat in THIS location?
MARKO KOVACEVIC / DKPS
Oh, my.
Out came Kelly, but only after Libka had barked in his direction about standing near the dugout railing. And away they went:
Second ejection for Kelly in his tenure of, uh, one week. And seemingly, two more than we'd witnessed in a half-decade from the maddeningly even-keeled Derek Shelton, who'd only ever show real emotion, oddly, when he felt rules or clock violations were being misinterpreted.
I asked Kelly afterward, within the formal press conference in his office, if he'd felt the Pirates were disrespected in that scenario, and if that might've been what merited his response:
"That's tough," he'd reply. "That call, I felt, was a huge point in that game, and I have their back. I have our guys’ back. These guys are going out there, competing, battling, and I didn’t think it was something ... that call was a big point that changed the game, and I’m going to have our guys’ back."
Sounded good. Wasn't enough for me.
The office cleared out, and I asked it again. Because we weren't on the record, I can't lay out the elaboration he offered about the incident and other similar subjects.
I'll say this, though, and I'll say it with gusto: He's the manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates. He's emotionally invested to the core, in part because it's the opportunity of his coaching lifetime, but also -- legitimately -- because it's the Pirates. Because of the logo on his chest. Because of how he thumped it as we spoke. Because of all the others who've worn it, when he was a child going to games at Three Rivers, then teammates, then so many more, then those who become alumni.
Believe it or not, those people exist. Steve Blass exists. Manny Sanguillen exists. Kent Tekulve exists. The great Dave Parker's about to wear a pillbox for his long-overdue induction into Cooperstown. The equally-great-in-his-own-way Cutch has committed the bulk of his career.
They've made a mega-mess of things of late. I get that better than most, I'm guessing. But the 144 years, five World Series championships and all the other syrupy stuff ... that exists. And that's real for a lot of folks.
Kelly's one of them.
He's ready to fight for it.
And in an environment where one of the most awful questions that gets asked from the outside is whether or not anyone on the inside even cares ... man, I've been saying this for a long time now, but it'd take someone special, from someplace special like ours, to make a meaningful difference.
The things I saw and heard from Kelly on this day, the energy, the bouncing from place to place, the one-on-one conversations ... it's been a long time since I'd seen that in the Pirates' world. The things I saw and heard from those around him ... no different.
Now, his baseball acumen and angles will be paramount. And there, too, he's off to an encouraging start on a couple fronts.
See that Canario blast in this one?
That's not an accident. In a month under Shelton, when Canario was buried behind Pham and others, he totaled 27 at-bats and an .097 average. He's now got a seven-game hitting streak, 10 for his past 24, with two home runs and two doubles.
Oh, and as long as I'm peeling back the figurative onion here, Kelly's spent extra time communicating -- with help, if needed -- with all of his Latin American and other international players. I watched one such session on this very day with Cruz. Whereas Shelton allowed one situation with one specific player to fester last summer, eventually resulting in the Latin American players throwing their own little, late-night clubhouse party -- after a game -- when another player they perceived as a problem had been released.
Notice how much crisper Holderman's been?
One earned run over his first four appearances this month, all under Kelly, all before he'd get tagged with a couple of very much undeserved runs in this one.
That's not an accident. He's not saying this, but I am: In Shelton's final game managing Holderman, he publicly stated, "We didn't execute a pitch," in plainly singling out Holderman when even the most untrained eye could see that Holderman executed it perfectly, only to see a fine swing put on it. Which everyone on the team could see, too.
When I'd asked Kelly a question about how well I thought Holderman had pitched, Kelly asked if I could venture out to the clubhouse and repeat that to Holderman. (I did, but somewhat teasingly.) But regardless, Kelly told me had plans to text Holderman to reiterate that himself, something he's done with a bunch of these guys.)
I approached Holderman after this game and, upon informing him I wanted to ask about Kelly, he reflexively replied, "Oh, good. I welcome that."
"It means the world to us knowing our manager has our back, like what you just saw out there," he'd proceed. "We're out there giving our all, and all you want is a manager who is up there on the top step really just fighting there with you. That's exactly what we have with DK. There's no one that wants it more for us as an organization, as teammates, as people, than him."
I asked Holderman if, after watching so much of the lifeless crap -- my term, not his -- that we'd watched the past couple years, the fight's back in this team.
"Yes, 100 percent. Showing up every day, there's a different vibe and we're here ready to work and ready to win. It started with our meeting with him when we announced him as interim manager, and you could tell the vibe shifted. We're here and we're ready to compete."
____________________
So yeah, call him a Pittsburgh kinda manager. He's earned it. He comes equipped with our passion, our perseverance, our candor and our collective work ethic.
Just don't call him an interim manager, as Holderman mistakenly -- and forgivably -- did in that last quote up there. Not so much because there was no such asterisk attached to Kelly's title in the initial press release but, rather, because it'd be incorrect. From everything I've found out these past few days, both now and far into the future, this is Kelly's job. If he fares well, within whatever could constitute fair parameters, it's his. And that'll be the case regardless of anyone else over or under him.
He'll stay if/when this ever gets good. That's what I'm saying. I'm not just advocating it. I'm communicating it, based on what I've been told.
This isn't some resume-booster. Kelly's not calling a 78-year-old Gene Lamont out of retirement to help him persist through a few months. He's not looking for anything beyond making the very best of what's right in front of his face.
And if that's an ump's face, so be it.
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