And so even though it hurt, the day after the trades of Freddy and Jack, to read Andy LaRoche's quote in the paper, "It's just part of the game...you can't let it really affect you," I know that he is right.  Because really, what good would it do to dwell on who has left?  How would that be productive, either for me as a fan or for me as a person?

So if you're wondering what I've been up to these last eight days or so, the answer is, trying to turn the page.  It's been a slow process.  I had tickets to last Friday night's game, but I didn't go.  I actually felt like I physically couldn't.  I was too afraid that I would burst into tears upon seeing the Pirates take the field and not seeing either Jack or Freddy amongst them.  Staying at home to watch the game on TV, there was still a danger of waterworks, but just in front of my cats, who are used to me crying with some regularity.

But I did watch last Friday's game on TV (and cried a little bit).  And last Saturday's (when I got misty but did not shed actual tears).  By the time Sunday rolled around, I was ready to return to the park.  My friends Gary and Leslie and I had gotten tickets weeks ago to cheer Nyjer Morgan's return, and I knew that the time had come.  I could sit at home and stew, or I could go to the park and cheer on these new-look Bucs.

Because here's the thing about them -- they're actually kind of exciting.  On the whole, they're very young, and Neal Huntington's favorite word, "upside," could be used to describe almost all of them.  Plus with virtually everyone using the last two months of this season as a tryout for next year, I'm thinking the performances are going to be strong.  How could they not be?  (I realize the irony of that statement now, in hindsight, as the Pirates have lost six in a row.  But there will be growing pains -- we knew that going in.)

So I went to the park on Sunday with some trepidation, and I was fully intending to hold a grudge similar to the one I'd had upon Nate McLouth's trade.  For the first few weeks that Andrew McCutchen was in the bigs and would miss a play that no centerfielder could make, I would sneer, "Nate would've had it."  I had fully prepared my arsenal of such lines, and was fully ready to use them, only with the names "Jack" and "Freddy" inserted in "Nate"'s place.  As I asserted to Gary and Leslie as we drove downtown, "I'll clap for all of them, but I will NOT clap for Ronny Cedeno."

Cedeno's first at-bat was in the bottom of the second, and when he hit a home run to left, who was the first one on her feet?  Your dear Jolly Rog, guilty as charged.

The Pirates went on to lose the game, of course, in a disturbing fashion that's become a trend this homestand -- get involved in a back and forth battle, give up the lead in an avoidable way, then watch helplessly as the opposition slowly adds on.  But here's the thing about Sunday's loss -- it didn't really affect me.  There have been times in the past where a loss would sour my mood for the rest of the day, would make me all snarly, upset, and downright agitated.  But the new, turning-the-page-Jolly-Rog accepted the loss with a sigh, and a wish that they would have won, but a sense of gratitude for a fun afternoon with friends and a great time enjoying the beautiful weather.

This was, in part, because as we stayed afterwards to watch the kids run the bases (note to readers: if you live in Pittsburgh and go to a Sunday afternoon game, stay to watch this -- it is absolutely hilarious), Paul Maholm came walking across the outfield.  He had started the game on Sunday, and things had gone well until the doors kind of fell off in the seventh inning.  Surely, I thought, he would be angry and upset with his performance and the game's end result.  Instead, he was smiling -- smiling! -- to himself as he crossed the field.  Without being asked, he stopped to chat with some of the kids who were waiting on line, and patted them on the head before continuing towards the players' parking lot under the Clemente Wall.  The whole time, a placid smile was on his face.  You could almost hear him whistling contentedly.

Well, this is new, I thought to myself.  If the starting pitcher...the losing pitcher...a guy actually involved in the game...doesn't seem bothered by the loss, and isn't letting it ruin the rest of his Sunday, then why the heck should I?

And so I didn't.  Gary and Leslie and I had a leisurely stroll through downtown, and decided to stop for ice cream at Dave and Andy's in Oakland.  (Another must-do for the Pittsburghers in the reading audience.)  I can honestly say it was one of the more fun Pirate games I've attended, and I know that I owe a lot of it to my new perspective.

This week was not one of those where the Pirates had a Monday off, so they've played five more games since then.  This non-stop action gave me the chance to really hone my page-turning skills.  Yes, I attended two of the games.  And yes, I watched two of the others on TV.  But I didn't deliberately plan my evening around them.  When I went grocery shopping on Tuesday evening and got home a few minutes after seven, there wasn't a breakneck effort to empty the car and get into the house by the first pitch.  When I did watch the games on TV, I consciously switched to another channel during the commercials, and sometimes flipped back to find I had missed several pitches of an at-bat, or the whole plate appearance itself.  When the game last night (which I attended) stretched into extra innings and the late hours (I'm sorry, but I can't be out at 11 on a work night), I actually left.  Before the game was over.  And you know what?  The world did not spin off its axis.  No one accused me of being a lesser Pirate fan (something I've come to realize is that I always used to feel like I had to prove my loyalty, to an unknown and unnamed party or parties).  I didn't feel disloyal, or guilty, or bad (at least not overly so).

I'm not saying all of this to toot my own horn.  But I have really enjoyed letting baseball be fun again.  I'll still keep score every now and again, but not religiously.  (When I didn't keep score on Sunday, I was amazed at how much time I had to really watch and enjoy not just the game, but the company.)  I'll still do some analysis on the blog, but I must warn you that it might not be as in-depth as it has before. 

Because this is a new Bucco team.  This is a new Bucco blog.  The page is being turned.  And even though it sometimes gives me a paper cut (leaving the park tonight, I thought for a second of Jack and literally had to stop and catch my breath at the realization that he's not on the DL or being given a night off; he's really no longer a Pirate), these things tend to be surface wounds.  They might be painful for awhile, but then the skin grows in and everything is new again.

When I got home from work today, I heard another frightening stat -- John Grabow and Tom Gorzelanny have been traded to the Cubs.  So now there are four.

I have mixed emotions about this trade.  Honestly, I'm pretty happy for Grabow and Gorzo -- I know that Grabow loves playing at Wrigley, and I know that Gorzo is from the Chicago area.  So I'm sure they'll both enjoy their new digs.

But as for me, I need a tourniquet!  In some ways, I'm glad that Neal Huntington is pulling off all of these deals in rapid succession, because that's what you do with a Band-Aid, is rip it right off.  But when the Band-Aid is covering a deep, gaping wound that is gushing blood, having it removed only leads to more pain.

Let me reiterate that I believe in Neal's plan.  Much as I thought his "we're not breaking up the '27 Yankees" comment after yesterday's trades was caustic, it was also true -- that's part of why it hurt so much.  Obviously, as an organization, the Pirates that he inherited were in need of some major help, in every facet of the game and every level of the system.

But did we have to go to this extreme?  I mean, I don't even know who the face of the franchise is anymore.  I don't even know if I relate to any of the current Pirates, much less feel like I have a personal connection to them.  (This is a bit of an exaggeration -- I've met Maholm, Duke, and Doumit several times, and have always found them to be really nice guys.)  Honestly, I'm afraid to pick a new favorite Pirate because he might get traded away.

And let me say, too, that I'm getting a little worn out from having all these extra box scores to check.  Now, when I read my sports section at lunch, I have to give an in-depth look to no less than six other teams: the Red Sox (How's Jay-Bay doing?  Is LaRoche sinking or swimming?); the Braves (How's Nate doing?), the Nattys (How's Nyjer doing?  Did Burnett pitch?); the Mariners (How's Jack doing?  Did Snell implode yet?); the Giants (How's Freddy doing?); and the Cubs (Did Gorzo pitch?  What about Johnny Grabs?).  In some ways, I feel like I'm following two teams -- the Pirates, and the ex-Pirates.

And you know who I feel the worst for in this whole situation?  Ryan Doumit.  Sure, Maholm, Duke, and Capps are also the lone wolves remaining from Opening Day 2008, but they have each other as fellow pitchers, and they can relate to one another on those grounds.  But what must Doumit, the only position player left from a year ago, think about all of this?  He was visibly upset by Jack's trade yesterday, and offered a "no comment" to the media in regard to Freddy's.  Is he feeling duped right now?  I mean, he, like Maholm, signed a long-term deal coming into this year.  He also busted his butt to come back from his wrist injury early, to the point of staying with the team during his rehab so that he could continue to work with the pitchers.  He's got to be feeling sort of foolish, sort of angry, and sort of uncertain.  And he has every right to be.

Because you know what?  Whether you like the plan or not, whether you agree with the plan or not, whether you believe in Neal or not, the Pirates are, right now, a laughingstock in Major League Baseball.  I've heard several derisive remarks in the media, calling them the Pittsburgh Prospects.  The worst was last night, on FSN Final Score, when their snarky and annoying announcer stated, "Well, the Pirates' fire sale continues...the Mariners and Giants were left to pick through what's left of the Pirates."  So if Ryan Doumit is feeling a little upset -- or, heck, highly upset -- by all this, I'm OK with that.  Because honestly, I am, too.

At my parents' house, my dad has this mug on his desk that was given to him when he left one of his previous jobs.  Each of his co-workers had jotted a message on the mug in black marker, and while most of them wished him luck or stated that he'd be missed, one simply read, "Take me with you!"

Of the four remaining Pirate "veterans," Doumit, Maholm, Duke, and Capps (can you call them veterans if their combined Major League service time -- in terms of months of the season -- is approximately 94 months and exactly 851 games, and their average age is, by my count, 26.86?), you've got to wonder who among them would write a similar sentiment on a mug given to Bay, Nady, Marte, Bautista, Paulino, McLouth, Hinske, Morgan, Burnett, LaRoche, Wilson, Snell, Sanchez, Grabow, or Gorzelanny (and who among us would fault him for it).  Have I forgotten anyone?  If so, I blame it on lightheadedness -- you know, from a loss of blood.

Well, that was almost five years ago, and I'm here to tell you that I'm still a Pittsburgher.  In fact, as of yesterday, I have now lived in the 'Burgh for 59 glorious months.  And in that time, I have come to know quite a bit about Jack Wilson (admittedly, not all; I do not purport to really know him), and I love what I know.

See, the night of the 2004 All-Star Game, my life was in flux.  I was mourning the fact that I had just left college, a year before most of my close friends.  I was concerned about moving to a new city, completely on my own.  And I was also disturbed to realize -- as I had earlier that summer -- that my lifelong love of baseball was fading rapidly.  See, I didn't have a TV in college, so I missed out on a lot of baseball action.  My team back then was the Yankees (long story; basically, I picked them as a little kid because they, like me, had a "K" in their name), but I really hadn't followed them with any regularity since I was in high school.  More concerning to me was the Padres-Phillies game my dad and I had attended earlier in the summer, during which I was disturbed to realize that I was extremely bored with what was transpiring on the field.  Baseball, which had always been such an important part of my life, seemed to be as up in the air as everything else.

I was watching the All-Star Game with Kev and Matt (whose names you will recognize as two of the blog's most loyal readers), more so because it was a tradition than anything else.  For years, we had watched the Home Run Derby and bet on who we thought would win, and then watched the All-Star Game the next night.  On this night, when the starting lineups were announced, Kev and Matt pointed out Jack Wilson, because he was a Pirate and I was a soon-to-be Pittsburgher.  I sort of shrugged it off, not wanting anything to connect me to the city that I would soon, begrudgingly, be calling home.

Almost a year went by, and for the first ten months that I lived in Pittsburgh, I hated it.  This had very little to do with the city, and very much to do with my bad attitude.  What can I say -- when you expect things to go poorly, that's usually how they turn out.  But then came June 3, 2005.  Kev and Matt were out for a visit, and they talked me into going to PNC Park.  I did, fully expecting my experience in Philadelphia to be repeated, and me to be treated to a boring night at the ballpark.

It would be melodramatic to say that everything changed that night, but in some ways, it's true.  Jack Wilson was in the starting lineup, as was a then little-known third baseman named Freddy Sanchez.  I was treated to those gorgeous skyline views to which I've now grown so accustomed.  And I felt, for the first time, a twinge of pride in my new city, and a twinge of interest in this scrappy little team, the Pirates.

Over the next few months, all of my friends were out of town for the summer, and my sole entertainment in the evenings came in the form of Pirate telecasts.  I started to learn more about the team, and Jack Wilson stood out to me the most.  At first, I loved the fact that his middle name was Eugene, which I have long wanted to name my son, if I ever have one.  At that time, the Eugene connection was enough to make Jack my favorite player.  As time went on and I learned more about him -- both as a player and a person -- my admiration grew.  Here was a man concerned with more than the bottom line.  Here was a man who loved his wife and children.  Here was a man who was dedicated to his team, and involved in the civic life of his adopted home.  Here was a man whose Christian faith was of utmost importance to him, to the point that he eventually started an organization aptly named Christ First Sports.  Here was a man who could pick it, in a big way, at short.  

Before long, I had found a new favorite player.

In the intervening years, I would use the words "love," "adore," "admire," and "respect" when expressing my opinion of Jack.  When I got the chance to meet him for the first time, at Bowling with the Bucs in 2006, I was so nervous.  Because whenever you meet somebody whom you describe with the aforementioned words, there's always that bit of fear that he'll actually turn out to be a jerk, not worth your adulation.

Instead, much to my delight, Jack turned out to be even nicer than I would have imagined.  I would get the same impression the next few times I met him.  At Bowling with the Bucs 2007, he was just as engaging and friendly.  At PirateFest 2008, I brought along a picture of us from Bowling with the Bucs in 2007, hoping he would sign it.  He did, and then he went one step further, taking my Pirates calendar and pointing out when that year's event would be.  As the line of autograph seekers continued to wait behind me, I still had something to say to Jack, something I'd promised myself I would say when the opportunity presented itself.

"I want you to know," I stammered, "how much I respect you.  You just seem like such a nice guy, and it seems like you have a good sense of priorities, with your family coming first.  So in case there are nights when you wonder if there's anybody up in the stands who really cares about what you guys are doing, and who respects you, just know that there is."  I actually got kind of choked up as I finished my speech, and I hesitated to look at Jack.  I was sure he'd already be looking away, on to the next person, the next autograph, the next admiring word.  Instead, he was looking right back at me.  "Thank you," he said, and it occured to me that maybe he doesn't hear compliments like that all the time.  In fact, he seemed genuinely appreciative of my heartfelt words.

And I thought, at that moment, that I could not respect him more.

The next time I met Jack, it was Bowling with the Bucs 2008, and he showed a flash of recognition when I approached him.  The same was true at the end of the 2008 season, when the Pirates held an event in which the players greeted fans at the gates.  "Hey!"  Jack said when I went up to him.  "It's good to see you again!"  His name was being bandied about in trade rumors then, of course, as it always was, and so I patted him on the shoulder as I left and told him, "if they're stupid enough to get rid of you this offseason, I wish you nothing but the best."  Again, he was as gracious as could be.

And I thought, at that moment, that I could not respect him more.

I ran into Jack twice this season.  At "Bowling with the Bucs," he again recognized me, and expressed excitement at seeing me again.  And then, a mere two weeks later, the Pirates had another "greet at the gates" event.  Naturally, I waited to talk to Jack, and when I approached to shake his hand and say hello, he greeted me with a "long time, no see!"  His smile was genuine and infectious.

And I thought, at that moment, that I could not respect him more.

Because that's what this comes down to.  I can't say that I love Jack, because what I know of him barely scratches the surface.  (And indeed, it is best to say "know of," rather than "know," because I don't really know him.)  I can, however, say that I respect him.  Every time I've had occasion to speak with him, he's always been a gracious, stand-up guy.  He's known to put his faith and his family first, before everything else.  He's a loyal team player who doesn't know how to give less than his all.  He has given the Pirates' fanbase so much.

And so now here we are.  It's been a little more than five years since I first heard of Jack Wilson, and a little less than five years since I first made Pittsburgh my home.  In reflecting on his trade, I've been forced to mull over a difficult truth -- am I more of a Pirate fan or a Jack fan?  Already, driving home from work today, I could tell that my relationship with the team had changed a bit.  No longer did I feel the need to stay in the car until the inning break before going into the house.  No longer do I feel the need to turn down other social invitations because I have a Bucco game to watch on TV.  In some ways, I am sad to realize that maybe I'm not as big a Pirate fan as I would have thought.  In other ways, I am wondering if I now have a healthier relationship to the team than ever before -- I will still watch them, and cheer for them, and go to their games, but I will no longer center my life around them.

As I see it, this can only be a good thing.  Because honestly, my life seems to be in a flux similar to that of 2004.  As most of my friends are getting married and/or having children, I remain single, with only my two cats keeping me warm at night and giving me a chance to practice my caregiving skills.  For years now, I've wanted to get back into my writing, which has completely stagnated since I finished my Master's in 2006.  I've been dealing with a lot of fear and uncertainty about the future, and have struggled to see where my faith fits into all of that.  (Because if I truly had faith, I wouldn't be that concerned about the future, right?  And if I truly had faith, then the Pirates wouldn't be my number one priority all the time, in any situation, right?) 

But ironically, on today of all days -- a day in which my head is spinning with all of the Pirates' personnel moves, and my heart is hurting at the thought of going to PNC Park on Friday without Jack or Freddy being there -- I feel that I'm thinking a little clearer than I have been recently.  You don't need to look far on the blog to see that Jack's trade has led to a deluge of writings, with even more ideas in the pipeline.  And I feel that I now have a healthier perspective on the team as a whole.  I've come to realize that there are bigger things than the Buccos, and that faith in that bigger picture can be both liberating and life-giving.  

And I think, at this moment, that I cannot respect Jack more.  Because for everything he gave me while he was here -- whether it was the thrill of hearing "Jumping Jack Flash" as he strode to the plate, the sense of pride at seeing his most recent gem on a top plays countdown, or the sense of genuine appreciation whenever we had occasion to interact -- interestingly, it has been, in his leaving, that Jack has given me the greatest gift of all -- a renewed interest in my writing, a renewed committment to my faith, and a renewed approach to my team.  In some ways, Jack has given me, well, me back. 

Somewhere in the midst of that, of course, Freddy was traded (to the Giants), and when Rocco broke that news over the air, I didn't have any tears left.  I didn't even have enough shock with which to adequately react.

I know that the Pirates are not a competitive team.  And I know that even when they get competitive, there's still a long way to go to get over that hump of being championship-caliber.  So I know that trades like that of Jack and that of Freddy are necessary.  But I also know that, for Jack and Freddy's sakes, I wanted them to be here when things turn around.  Jack's committment to Pittsburgh was well-known.  (File this under heartbreaking tidbit of, well, my life -- yesterday afternoon, apparently within moments of the trade's framework being put in place [admittedly, unbeknownst to Jack and his camp], Jack's agent made a counteroffer for an extension to the Pirates.  They never returned his calls.)  And everyone who's listened to a Pirate game on the radio this year knows that Freddy has (well, had) one of the quotes they use in the intro: "There's gonna be nothing more satisfying than turning this thing around, not only for us but for the fans.  It's no secret that I love the city of Pittsburgh; I'd love to play my whole career here.  What more do you want as a player than to have a beautiful stadium to go play in, in front of true sports fans?  There's gonna be nothing more satisfying than selling that place out, every night."

So now what?  Yes, we've stocked up on prospects, but who will provide that veteran leadership, and, at once, that childlike enthusiasm?  Who will turn those sweet double plays to which we've all grown so accustomed?  In all honesty, who will I go to the ballpark to see?

Because you need to understand -- these trades have completely boggled my mind.  I'm so confused, because I'm starting to wonder if I was/am a Jack and Freddy fan more than I was/am a Pirate fan.  Could that be true?  And if it is, what are the larger implications of that on my life?  I mean, I still love this team and hope they win each time out, and I still feel a connection to the announcers and the work that they do (I'm watching the replay of this afternoon's game as I type this), and of course I love going to the ballpark.  But there was something special for me about watching Jack and Freddy play together.  In some ways, I'm glad that they were both traded, because I get the impression that it would have been too difficult for whoever was left as a Pirate without the other.  In other ways, I have a knot in my stomach and more tears in my eyes, and I'm hoping against hope that I will wake up tomorrow and find this was all a dream. 

So I need you to understand this as well -- Neal Huntington may be building the Pirates' system, but today, he also succeeded in breaking my heart.

First there was a high chopper to short that ate Jack up.  (You know things have to be uber-frustrating for me to utter a discouraging word against him.  And, so that the trend does not continue, let me also utter a word of commendation for his tremendous, classic Jack stop-in-the-hole-followed-by-a-strike-to-first, which took place in bottom of the first.)  Then there was the bizarre routine fly that Garrett Jones backed away from at the last minute, apparently thinking Andrew McCutchen would take it.  (He didn't, and it was scored a two-run triple.)  Then, on the very next batter (Randy Winn), a short pop to right bounced off of Jones' glove, was quasi-booted by his shin and foot, and landed in the outstretched hand of second baseman Delwyn Young.  It was a fantastic (albeit strange) play, one that would have been even more so if it had been correctly scored an out, rather than another run-scoring hit.  (Young did manage to throw out Winn as he danced too far off of first.)  But the damage was done by that point, and the four-run lead to which the Giants had staked themselves would prove insurmountable. 

The annoying thing is, it didn't have to be that way.  I'm not making excuses here (certainly not for my man "Money" Maholm, who continues to look, well, anything but).  But if you take away the three runs the Pirates essentially gave the Giants in that second inning, it's a completely different ballgame.  Of course, if you take away Edgar Renteria's error that led to the Pirates scoring in the sixth, it's another totally different ballgame.  So I suppose it's better to not get involved with the "what if"s.

Besides, this game was not really as close as its 4-2 score would indicate.  Maholm struggled mightily (the Giants could have easily scored more, if not for some defensive plays that were as impressive as the others were putrid).  On the flip side, the Giants' Tim Lincecum was absolutely dealing, from the very first batter of the game onwards.  The fact that the Pirates scored one run off of him, much less two, is still kind of hard to believe.  After all, this came against the man who also set down fifteen of their brethren via the strikeout, including six on three pitches each.  (Yikes.)  There's no doubt that Lincecum is just filthy, and one has to wonder if the Pirates need an ace of that caliber, too, before they can even think about a winning season, much less contention.

One also has to wonder about Freddy's mysterious knee injury.  The timing of this injury (which I am avoiding putting in quotation marks for the time being), the week of the trade deadline, means that conspiracy theories are running rampant, and I'd like to throw my own into the mix.  I think that the Pirates' management really does want to hold on to Freddy past the trade deadline.  It's known that the Giants are one of his biggest suitors, so what better way to spoil their covetousness than to sit him.  Not only does this deny them a good, up-to-the-minute view of his play, but it also puts that most horrid of labels, "injury-prone," into the minds of the Giants' brass.

Of course, there are two other explanations, which are both more simple and more likely -- first, Freddy really is hurt, and second, he's been slumping really badly, and facing one of the game's premier pitchers would probably not be much of a confidence boost.

Of equal interest as the games this week, is, of course, that aforementioned trade deadline.  Most sources now have Freddy and Jack getting dealt by week's end.  So as I sleepily follow the Buccos on the West Coast (I conked out in the seventh last night, and would predict an earlier demise tonight), I also hesitantly check all the trade rumor websites.  Because much as I hate moments like last night's bottom of the second, the moment when one or both of my favorite Buccos is traded?  Well, that would be a moment hard to get over.

Encouraging sign of the game: Despite what his two strikeouts last night might indicate, Steve Pearce has looked significantly less overmatched at the plate during this most recent recall to the Majors.  He even got a double off of Lincecum!  Pearce's performance over the remainder of the season remains a story to watch.

Discouraging sign of the game: The defense, which has been so good, kind of pooped out last night.

Things that make you go "hmm" (in a good way): Delwyn Young continues to swing a hot stick, particularly when he starts.  Might he be a suitable replacement for Freddy, at least in the short term?

Things that make you go "hmm" (in a not-so-good way): Maholm seems to be racking up more iffy-to-awful starts than quality-to-impressive.  I think he might be hurting a little bit more than he's letting on, which could be a major problem from here on out.

Jolly Rog status: Lowered, and, in some ways, at his lowest of the year, with the Pirates now at a season-worst 13 games under .500.  And yet this Jolly Rog also remains optimistic that the Buccos can do good things against Barry Zito tonight.

But then there was yesterday's game, which started at a very managable 4:10 in the afternoon, and I was optimistic that sleep would not overtake me this time.  Because the fact is, I feel disloyal when I don't watch a Bucco game and the sole reason is that I fell asleep.  (Bible Study, work, travel, these are all good excuses.  Sleep?  Who needs that when there's a ballgame to analyze?)  I don't like having to wait for the score and notable stats to scroll by on ESPN's Bottom Line to find out what transpired.  It makes for significantly less compelling blog posts, I can tell you that right now.

But to get back to yesterday -- oh, that I had fallen asleep!  The Pirates' 9-0 drubbing at the hands of the Diamondbacks has to rank, in my estimation, as one of their worst games of the year.  In so many ways, it was reminiscent of the myriad, awful blowouts the Buccos suffered last year, in which the starting pitching would dig an insurmountable hole early, and the offense would prove themselves bereft of anything resembling potency.  And yet yesterday's radio broadcast was somewhat different in that it did not even feature any of the delightful announcer non-sequitors that so often made last year's games bearable.  The Pirates were so bad that Greg Brown couldn't even muster up an, "awful...wow!," which remains my favorite of his ever-candid assessments of the Bucs.

I'm not saying the Pirates didn't try yesterday.  But there sure were a lot of outs that happened quickly, and innings that were over virtually as soon as they began.  Let's face it -- having five hits over the course of the game (and all of them singles) is not often going to lead to a victory, particularly when your starting pitcher struggles, from the outset, to keep the game within reach.

And let's talk about Virgil Vasquez for a moment, if we may.  I had thought that the main idea of having depth in one's system was to be able to quickly and effectively take those who are not performing out of the Majors, because there are several ready and willing replacements behind them.  And yet here we are, with several good starters down at Triple A, and Vasquez is allowed to continually go out there and struggle.  Apparently there are issues with Tom Gorzelanny's service time, which, to me, seems simultaneously stupid and as good a reason as any to keep him with Indy.  I don't think Ian Snell is the answer, either, since he is still having his mental breakdown when it comes to the thought of returning to Pittsburgh.  (And a word about that -- the Yankees are apparently scouting him.  The implications of that are scary.  I'm sorry, but if Ian Snell's psyche couldn't handle things in our fair, small-market city, how in the world will he make it under the brightest, most scrutinizing lights in the game?  Yikes.)  And Jeff Karstens (Jeffy K, as I like to call him), with the exception of yesterday, has been a bright spot in long relief.  But I really think something needs to be done to work around these complications, because what we have in the fifth starter's spot right now is a guaranteed loss each time out.

And oh, that the pitching was the only thing wrong with yesterday's game.  How about the offense, which seemed to have evaporated into the three-digit temperatures of the Arizona desert?  The Pirates have now been shut out eleven times this season (approximately once every nine games!), and on three separate occasions they have been shut out in consecutive games.  I firmly believe that the offense is in there (one needs only look at Garrett Jones' slugging percentage, or Freddy Sanchez's doubles and hits totals to determine that), but for now, it seems to be on a bit of a hiatus.  Which is all fine and good, but you're not going to win games by scoring zero runs.  One run?  OK, occasionally.  Two?  Maybe a little more often.  But zero?  That, my friends, is another guaranteed loss.

So that's pretty much all there is to say about the series in Arizona.  I hate to be this negative, but frustrations are abounding. 

And besides, no one is cheerful when they've just woken up.

I'm not kidding -- by the time last night rolled around and the Pirates boarded their plane for Arizona, I was emotionally exhausted by all that had transpired in the previous three games.  In fact, these emotions were so strong that I am going to withhold any sort of intense statistical analysis of the series, and instead (at the risk of being too girly) recount my feelings during it. 

Here we go!

Disgust (at seeing that it was the Brewers coming in to town)

Fear (at the prospect of the Pirates' losing streak against the Brewers stretching to 18 games)

Disappointment (at the rain delay that delayed the start of Monday night's game by more than two hours)

Enjoyment (at Rocco's rain delay broadcast, in which he was on the air, non-stop, for close to 90 minutes)

Disgust (at seeing the actual Brewers take the field)

Joy (at seeing the Pirates post 6 quick runs off of Brewers' starter Mike Burns)

Even More Joy (at seeing yet another Garrett Jones home run)

Disgust (at having to watch the Brewers)

Exhaustion (at falling asleep in the top of the eighth inning)

Confusion (at waking up in the bottom of the eighth inning to see a shoving match taking place around home plate)

Anger (at realizing what had precipitated the shoving match taking place around home plate)

Glee (at waking up the next morning and realizing the Pirates had won the game, 8-5)

Disgust (at reading some of the Brewers' childish comments about the shoving match in the paper)

Optimism (at the potential for the Bucs to make it two in a row against the Brewers on Tuesday night)

Disgust (at having to watch the Brewers, again)

Frustration bordering on anger (at the Pirates' complete inability to score runs on Tuesday night)

Disgust (at listening to Tim Neverett describe the Brewers' stupid shirt-untucking ritual as they celebrated their 2-0 win)

Glee (at listening to and putting my two cents' into Tuesday night's discussion du jour on Extra Innings; namely, "How much do you hate the Brewers?")

But none of that -- I say none of that -- was preparation for the roller coaster of yesterday's game.  To fully understand the ride, it's necessary to bring in some primary sources; namely, the email conversation that transpired between TBMLR Kev (who was following the Phillies' game at the same time) and me.  Oh, and we sometimes speak in our own language, so explanatory italics are included where necessary.

-----

After some talk about the Adam LaRoche trade (which is covered in another post, if you scroll down a bit), we got into our respective games.

Kev: And Garrett Jones!  My goodness.  He's as hot as the Phillies.  We should trade for him.  Put him at catcher.

Me (7 minutes later): Not gonna happen.  He's our everyday 1B now.  TRB!  That's right, baby!  I am so overly excited...Pirates have scored all of their runs on HRs.  Doumit with 2, Cutch with 1, and Jones (natch) naturally with 1.  Maybe Cutch and "GFJ" (as Rocco has dubbed him) will tie for ROY Rookie of the Year.  TRB!

Kev (13 minutes later): They'll both tie for 2nd behind Happ.

Me (10 minutes later: WHY IS MAHOLM SERVING IT UP????  AND TO BRAUN OF ALL PEOPLE (he had, at this point, just cleared the bases with a hit)...THIS IS REMINISCENT OF THE GAME AGAINST THE METS -- GET A FIVE-RUN LEAD, THEN SQUANDER IT.  IT'S MY OWN FAULT FOR BEING SO CONFIDENT AND FANCY-PANTS.  SORRY FOR ALL THE CAPS, BUT I AM MURGHHHH extremely angry!

Kev (1 minute later): DOORS FELL OFF AT THE SAME TIME IN PHILADELPHIA.  MOYER LOADED THE BASES WITH NOBODY OUT.  ALL IN ALL AFTER AN ERROR THE CUBS GOT 4.  4-0 BOTTOM 4.  DOORS = OFF.

Me (2 minutes later): Doors now officially off in PGH as well -- McGehee with the two-run job.  Just for the record (in case you were wondering), I hate the Brewers!

Kev (3 minutes later): Didn't know you didn't care for that team.  Phils go 1, 2, 3 in the 4th.  Ugh.

Me (10 minutes later): That's the worst, when you can't even make some noise after you serve it up.  Buccos are about to do the same in the 5th.  Scratch that.  LaRoche (the only one left now) doubles in Delwyn Young.  Good.  Still need one more.

Kev (2 minutes later): Moyer just gave up another run.  5-0.

Me (7 minutes later): Ouch.  Hanrahan's in the game.  This means trouble.

Kev (7 minutes later): Well that may have been our shot.  Bases chucked nobody out.  Only got 1.  Not soooo gooood.

Me (18 minutes later): Who's pitching for the Petsies Cubs today?  It's not Z is it?  My appleols apologies to Hanrahan so far -- very, very impressive.  (Knock on wooden peg-leg.)

Kev (5 minutes later): Zambrano.  We're not getting his pitch count high enough.  5-3 now.  Pete Happy Pedro Feliz with a 2-RBI single.  Uncle Charley Charlie Manuel got tossed.  Top 7.  Ryan The Riot Ryan Theriot is up.

Me (8 minutes later): SEBBIN!  Basically, gosh darn it!  Jeff Salazar GIDPs to end the threat in the bottom of the seventh.  Maybe that was in honor of the dearly departed Adam LaRoche.  7-7, top 8.  I lied.  In the time it took me to answer that phone call, Johnny Grabs set them down on 8 pitches.  That's what I'm talking about!  Momentum still swinging our way.  But something must be done, post-haste.

Kev (14 minutes later): Saw you stranded two in the 8th.  Not good.  Doors off again in Philly.  Cubs got three more in the 7th.  Durbin decided to walk 167 people.  Ugh.  8-3 now.  Not looking good.

Me (3 minutes later): Yeah, I'll tell you what -- GFJ is going to throw his back out from singlehandedly carrying the offense.  2 2Bs, 1 HR, 1 BB on the day.  Matty C in the game, despite Grabow only throwing 8 pitches in the 8th.  I'm starting to have a bad feeling about this.

-----

Unfortunately, that bad feeling seemed on the verge of coming to fruition, when in the top of the 9th, Capps served up a triple to Mike Cameron (or, as I like to call him, Mr. HGH) with only one out.  Emotion at that time: dejection.

But all was not lost!  Incredibly, Ryan Braun and Casey McGehee struck out swinging, which, of course, left Cameron stranded at third.  Emotion at that time: excitement mingled with sheer disbelief.

And then, moments later, I started a whole new email to Kev.  The subject line: "Honestly.  I am sorry that you are losing.  But..."

And in the biggest font I could find, the body of the email went a little something like this: "YESSSSSS!  BRANDON MOSS WALKS IT OFF."  Emotion at that time: elation.

Whew!  I need a nap.  (Or a tranquilizer.)

(while showing John Russell pulling LaRoche out of the dugout in the middle of yesterday's game): "Good news, Adam, you've been traded to a playoff contender!"

(while going to a commercial break): "And when we come back, we'll examine -- is there anything good about staying a Pittsburgh Pirate?"

(while introducing Pirates-Brewers highlights): "You know, they've shown a lot of heart to keep coming out and winning some ballgames, even as their clubhouse has so much turnover and their team has no direction."

(while showing said highlights): "Oops, Ryan Doumit homered.  He'll be the next to get traded.  Oops, Brandon Moss homered.  He'll be the next to get traded."

That's right -- instead of giving actual, relevant commentary on one of the Pirates' most exciting and satisfying wins of the years, these stupid talking heads were making fun of the Buccos, and on what grounds?

I mean, we all know that I love the Pirates as much as anyone, but have you seen their farm system?  Did you see it at this time last year?  The Pirates are not just giving up players for the sake of it.  There is a very clear plan in mind, and that plan involves -- to borrow the phrase Rocco has used many times over -- infusing the system with young talent, not hanging on to guys who are getting up there and whose best years may be behind them.

Another thing I resented is the implication that Neal Huntington is making these trades willy-nilly, just throwing darts at the lineup card to determine who is the next to go.  He is not going to trade Ryan Doumit or Brandon Moss because they hit a home run or had a good game.  Just like he didn't trade Adam LaRoche, Jason Bay, Xavier Nady, Nyjer Morgan, or Nate McLouth for no reason, or for just one reason.  Each of these decisions is carefully thought-out, and the intimation that the Pirates' front office is filled with buffoons made me wonder if these silly national anchors wouldn't be better served for their cheap laughs by looking in a mirror.

My heart sank.  I dared to ask the question, "Did they trade Jack?"

"No."

"Freddy?"

"No...I'm not even sure if you like this guy.  He strikes out too much for me."

And I knew, in that moment.

"Adam LaRoche?!"

My co-worker nodded, at which point my incredulity reached a fevered pitch.  How in the world had Neal Huntington wrangled two prospects -- and from a respected Red Sox organization, no less -- in exchange for the man Pittsburgh sports fans had derisively taken to calling, "LaChoke"?  How had Huntington managed to get anyone in return?  Had he pulled the wool over Boston GM Theo Epstein's eyes?  Had he duped the entire Red Sox front office?  Or maybe, just maybe, did Boston see in Adam LaRoche what the fans in Pittsburgh never took the time to?

I'll admit to not having much of an opinion on Adam LaRoche when he was here.  Yes, I would groan when I saw he was coming up to bat in a key situation, and yes, his name would be the one most often uttered in frustration while watching the game on TV (it happened as recently as Tuesday night, in fact, when I also punched the sofa cushion loudly enough to wake one of my cats from a sound sleep).  But I never had the kind of honest-to-goodness hatred that a lot of Pirates fans seemed to feel for LaRoche.

So what was it about him, exactly?  And what made things go so terribly wrong?  If you were living in Pittsburgh in early 2007, you remember the excitement that came when the Bucs acquired LaRoche.  You remember the ovations that greeted him at PirateFest, and the mantle of "franchise savior" that was bestowed upon him, making him the latest in a long line of Pirates to merit such a distinction.  Plans were made for his bobblehead night (June 2, 2007), and given the short left-field porch at PNC Park and LaRoche's undeniably gorgeous swing, surely visions of 40 home run seasons (a rarity in these parts) danced through Pirate fans' heads.  The most optimistic among us looked to his time in a winning Braves' organization as evidence that he would be a big help when the Pirates made their long-awaited playoff run.

But then the 2007 season started, and LaRoche got off to one of his abyssmally slow starts, and the numbers tailed off considerably from those compiled in 2006 in Atlanta.

...But did they, really?  I just hopped over to baseball-reference.com to get some numerical evidence, and it's not nearly as salient as everyone's hatred of LaRoche might suggest.  In 2006, he hit 32 home runs and drove in 90.  In 2007, the numbers were 21 and 88; in 2008, 25 and 85.  Granted, he was struggling quite a bit this year (his .247 average and .770 OPS are about all you need to come to that conclusion), but was his stint in Pittsburgh really as bad as everyone would like to believe?

I think the case of Adam LaRoche comes -- as is so often the case in baseball -- down to the intangibles.  Because let's face it, for every RBI he had, there were a half dozen opportunities where he didn't get the job done.  For every home run he had, there were two or three strikeouts, or a rally-killing GIDP (ahem last Sunday ahem).  The more clutch the situation, it seemed, the more LaRoche fell short.

But my question to you, dear reader, is, was it really all his fault?  After all, "savior of the franchise" is a lot of pressure to put on somebody, particularly somebody with his makeup.  Obviously, he is a Major League ballplayer, but the tools of an Andrew McCutchen or a Pedro Alvarez (the latest two to carry the "savior" burden) are simply not there.  McCutchen seems, to this point, capable of living up to the hype.  In fact, he seems to enjoy it.  LaRoche?  Well, he was, admittedly, happier perched out in the frozen fields of Kansas during an offseason hunt than bearing the weight of thousands of fans' expectations, made all the more unbearable, in fact, by sixteen years of losing.

And that's the other thing, too, that I think was a problem during LaRoche's stint in Pittsburgh.  Somebody pointed this out the other day on sports talk radio, and I think it's a good point.  Adam's personality doesn't gel with that of Pittsburgh.  He's laid-back and low-energy (which is not to be read as low-passion).  He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve.  Pittsburghers?  We're gritty and hard-nosed.  We go full bore into everything.  We not only wear our hearts on our sleeves; we dress our babies in black and gold onesies and wear T-shirts declaring, "If you ain't a Steeler fan, you ain't ****".  We show our passion, and expect our athletes to do the same.

But I don't want that if it means a guy has to be someone he's not.  LaRoche obviously tried his best while he was here, and although I'm not sorry to see him go, my opinion on the subject really has nothing to do with sentiment against him.  It's more focused on what his departure means for the rest of the Pirates' team, which, it seems to me, is getting thatclose to being all done with their wheeling and dealing.  The remainder of his $7 million salary?  I'm hoping the Pirates split that up and add it to their offers to Freddy and Jack.  The playing time at first base?  I'm hoping it goes to Garrett Jones, with Brandon Moss and Delwyn Young ending their platoon and becoming the everyday starting corner outfielders.  I'm starting to think we just might have something here.

So I agree with what Rocco said yesterday in recounting the trade -- let's not dance on Adam LaRoche's grave.  I think we can all agree that his time in Pittsburgh didn't work out the way anyone anticipated.  But that's the way life goes sometimes.  We may never know exactly why Adam LaRoche and the Pirates weren't a good fit, but it was clearly time for both parties to move on.  And not only do I feel like the Pirates are a better team today than they were two days ago, but I think Adam LaRoche is in a better situation as well.  For him, for his playing style, and for his personality.  We in Pittsburgh never really embraced any of those things, and I hope he finds in Boston whatever was missing here.

And so it was that, later that day, I arrived at PNC Park at 3:55 PM for a 7:05 PM game.  My account executive, Rich, met me in the main lobby of the Pirate offices, and away we went.  Walking through the service tunnel, I looked up to see Andrew McCutchen a few feet in front of us.  We went down through the umpires' entrance, and then we were on the field.

I don't mean to sound like a fancy-pants, but I've been on the field before.  Last season, I gave tours of the ballpark, and a stop in the dugout and on the warning track was always the grand finale.  Plus, at the end of last season, the other season ticket holders and I got to frolic and play catch on the field.  But I have never been on the field at the same time as the Pirates, and that made this opportunity all the more exciting.

Rich and I took up our posts on the dugout railing, right near where the on-deck circle (which is actually this large rug) goes.  The pitchers were hitting when we got out there, and the position players were stretching and soft-tossing out in centerfield.  The next hour was a flurry of activity, with balls flying every which way (from whichever coach was throwing BP at the moment to Tony Beasley hitting grounders to Jack to the Pirates' players doing this weird thing for everybody's first swing, in which the batter would bunt the ball to a player standing right in front of him, who would, in turn, bunt the ball to the player standing right across from him).  I even got hit in the leg with an errant throw at one point, but the bruise on my shin is not nearly as palpable as was my excitement at getting to keep the ball.  (More on that to come.)

Having watched the Pirates take batting practice, I have now concluded that besides athletic pursuits, several other things go on during that time.  I say this without criticism or condescencion, but there seems to be a lot of three things happening: standing around (the Pirate infielders formed a little enclave in shallow left field for the last 15 minutes or so of BP), singing along with the PA system (at one point, Andy LaRoche serenaded Jack, at length, with "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"), and general goofing off (which in the case of Andrew McCutchen and Freddy Sanchez takes the form of wild dancing, and in the case of Andy LaRoche takes the form of hurling chewed-up wads of gum at your older brother).  And I felt so lucky to have gotten to witness it, because it allowed me to see the Pirates as grown-up little kids, who seem to genuinely enjoy one another's company, while also maintaining an adequate understanding that they are living millions of people's dreams every time they come to work.

And speaking of things I felt lucky to witness, Friday night's game is definitely in the running for the best one of the second half.  Paul Maholm matched Tim Lincecum, virtually pitch for pitch, and Garrett Jones hit yet another homer early to continue the evolution of his rapidly growing, Roy Hobbesian legacy.  But when the Giants scored a cheap, unearned run in the top of the seventh, it looked like the game might go on for a while.

And it did -- through the tenth inning, the eleventh, the twelfth, the thirteenth, the fourteenth.  And as the night wore on, and 11:00 came and went, I started to have conflicting emotions.  On the one hand, the Giants were putting many more men on base in the extra frames, which made me think that they were going to win.  But on the other hand, when games go that long in Pittsburgh, you really start to feel like the Pirates are going to win, almost as a sort of reward for the fans' loyalty.  Bearing that optimism in mind, I penciled in the Pirates batter by batter on the hastily-drawn, extra innings portion of my scorecard.

And it was Garrett Jones, of course (who else, really?) who provided the long-awaited reward when, leading off the bottom of the fourteenth, he crushed a Bob Howry offering over the center field seats.  The ball bounced on the sidewalk and wound up in the Allegheny, and I cannot tell you how fantastic it was.

Despite the late hour, I headed over to the Hall of Fame Club to check out Rocco's live broadcast.  I was particularly excited about his planned interview with Neal Huntington, even though I was sure the GM couldn't comment on the negotiations with my two favorite Buccos.  That much proved correct, but it was still a spirited broadcast, which I greatly enjoyed.  And by the time everything had wrapped up, it was 1:00 in the morning, and I was walking back to my car.

The evening was cool, particularly for this time of year, and there was a hint of the rain that had earlier delayed the game's first pitch by 45 minutes.  And as I walked around PNC Park, I felt completely, totally at home.

That feeling continued the next day, when Kev and Jean arrived.  They are two of my favorite people, and seeing them always reminds me of the two great years that Jean and I lived together, and Kev essentially lived at our house, too.  (They moved to Philly last summer and married last fall.)  We kicked off their visit with a trip to Fuddruckers, which we made with the understanding that we needed to return to my house by 7:05 (for obvious reasons).  We made it home at 7:04, flipped on FSN, and got out the Super Scrabble board.  The evening was spent as we had so many before, and my delight at being reunited with two of my best friends was only furthered when the Pirates won the game, 2-0.  I'll admit to not watching the game as closely as I usually do, but I can tell you that it was very well-played, all the way around.

And so I was feeling pretty excited as Kev, Jean, and I headed to the ballpark yesterday afternoon.  We had gotten good seats, two rows back from the left field corner (ironically, the very same seats we sat in during the last game they attended at PNC Park), and I was feeling pretty confident about the chances of a sweep.  That hope continued when the Pirates staked themselves to a 1-0 lead on Brandon Moss' solo home run, and when Zach Duke was both effective and efficient through his first five innings.  But then, in the top of the sixth, in a rapid-fire sequence of no more than 10 pitches (somewhat reminiscent of that terrible game last Saturday in Philadelphia), the Giants hit back-to-back-to-back-to-back doubles, and suddenly, the Pirates' 1-0 lead was a 4-1 deficit.

But then the bottom of the eighth came, and the Pirates scored two runs and were poised to tie the game, and Adam LaRoche stepped to the plate with Ryan Doumit at first and one out, and the count went to 3-0, and I turned to Kev and said, "he's going to ground into a double-play," and on the very next pitch, he did.  There was still an inning to play, but the ballgame was essentially over.

And it was annoying to me, because this could have been the perfect weekend.  Still, I'm not going to lie -- it came pretty darn close.  And as Kev, Jean, and I made our way to the gathering of season ticket holders waiting to take the field for another session of catch, I got really excited again.  Because let's be honest -- no matter how many times you go on to a Major League field, the thrill never gets old.

And so we frolicked.  We threw.  We caught.  We enjoyed getting to feel the grass and the warning track.  We took the requisite pictures of "home run robbing catches" at the wall.  And for once, I was able to forget about a Pirate loss, and not feel its sting quite so strongly.

The night brought more quality time with Kev and Jean (as well as the significantly less exciting news about the major impasse in the Jack and Freddy negotiations), and as I went to sleep last night, I thought about what a difference a week can make.  After all, it was only a week ago that the Pirates were manhandled by their cross-state rivals, in a series that featured the worst game I've attended this year (and possibly ever).  And then there was this past weekend, in which the Pirates took two of three (almost three of three) from the current Wild Card leaders.  Although the offense remained paltry, the pitching was great (even with Zach's sixth), and from start to finish, on the field and off it, the weekend was fantastic.

And to get back to the ball that I got in batting practice for a second -- I decided, upon arriving home from Friday night's game, to keep the ball on my nightstand, even if that makes me 26-going-on-7.  I'll admit to lovingly tracing the stitches on the ball several times since then.  I'll admit to looking at it right before bed, and first thing in the morning, and smiling every time.  And sometimes I feel silly for being such a little kid. 

But then I think of Andy LaRoche chucking gum at Adam.  I think of Andrew McCutchen grooving while he waits for his turn in the cage.  I think of Jack and Freddy jawing back and forth while doing their warm-up tosses.  And I realize that being a kid, as it relates to baseball, isn't necessarily something to be ashamed of after all.

Best game attended at PNC Park: This is a close one.  Do I opt for Zach Duke's masterful performance in the Home Opener on April 13, or the Pirates' walk-off win against the Indians on June 25?  I think I have to give it to the latter, if for no other reason than the event of the Home Opener is exciting enough on its own.  Let's face it -- I would have had a great time at the Opener even if the Pirates hadn't won, if for no other reason than everything the day signifies.  But a big win like that against the Tribe, on a random Thursday in the middle of the season, carries more excitement points on its own. 

Worst game attended at PNC Park: Well, the May 31 game against the Astros was painful, filled with missed opportunities on offense and, ultimately, yet another loss against stupid Mike Hampton.  But by far the most heart-wrenching game I've witnessed this year in Pittsburgh was the May 15 loss to the Rockies.  The Pirates took a tenuous 1-0 lead into the ninth, and then all it took was a double by Ian Stewart and a homer into the "Pirate" bushes in center by Brad Hawpe to give the Rockies the game.  Ryan Spilborghs added a run of his own, after earlier absolutely robbing Jack of a homer, the lower the Jolly Roger and give the Rox a 3-1 win.  Yeah, it was painful.

Best game attended on the road: The Pirates' 10-2 win over the Reds on April 11 was pretty awesome, if for no other reason than it was the first time in over six months that I got to see my boys live.  But this award goes, undoubtedly, to the win over the White Sox on May 24.  First, my friend and traveling companion Hykos surprised me with seats four rows behind the Pirate dugout.  And then, with two outs and two strikes on him in the ninth, Jack doinked the game-tying homer off of stupid white-beard Bobby Jenks.  A Nyjer Morgan double and Delwyn Young single followed, as did perhaps Matt Capps' most dominant outing of the year (three swinging strikeouts).  I flew back to Pittsburgh that night on a Southwest flight, but I probably could have gotten there on my own after that thrilling win.

Worst game attended on the road: This one is a no-brainer.  Yes, the Pirates' 10-1 drubbing at the hands of the Mets on May 9 was bad, but when it comes to soul-crushing defeats, nothing beats the July 11, 8-7 loss to the Phillies.  In a matter of minutes, a 7-3 lead turned into an 8-7 deficit and a pile of Phillies bouncing around home plate.  I'm pretty sure that I witnessed the worst outing of Matt Capps' career that night -- he faced 8 batters and retired one of them (and that on a fly ball that went to the deepest part of the yard).  It was awful.

5 most exciting moments: This one is tough, because I'm so afraid I'm going to forget one.  So let's just do the ones that come to the top of my head, in no particular order:

1.) Jack's bases-clearing double into the left field gap on Opening Day, effectively silencing  the St. Louis crowd and allowing the Pirates to steal the game.

2.) The Home Opener, start to finish.

3.) Seeing Paul Maholm's first career home run, and in cavernous Citi Field of all places.

4.) The Jack jack in Chicago.

5.) The seventh through ninth innings of the Pirates/Indians game on June 25.

5 most depressing moments: Again, off the top of my head, in no particular order:

1.) Looking at the schedule and seeing Mike Hampton's name as the opposing pitcher (or, alternately, the Brewers as the opponent).

2.) Watching the arc of Brad Hawpe's home run on May 15.

3.) The bottom of the ninth inning on July 11.

4.) Seeing Adam LaRoche step to the plate in any remotely key, potentially game-changing situation.

5.) The first time I saw Nate McLouth in a Braves' uniform.  It's been, what, six weeks or so, and it's still weird.

Most shocking moment: Given #5 above, perhaps it's no surprise (pardon the pun) that this award goes to the trade of Nate McLouth.  I was out at Bible Study that night, and when I came home and turned my phone back on, there was a voicemail from Kev -- "The Pirates have traded Nate McLouth.  I'm not kidding."  I remember slumping into the wall in my foyer, dialing him back as quickly as I could, and rightly groaning, "please tell me you're kidding."  Alas, he was not.

Biggest surprise (pitcher): The next few kind of piggyback on last week's entries, but that's how it's going to go.  This award goes to Zach Duke.  I always believed that the crazily talented rookie we saw in '05 was in there somewhere, but as year after year of futility piled up, it became hard to keep that torch burning.  Zach has rewarded the Pirate faithful in spades this year.  Think what he could be with some run support -- it's scary.

Biggest surprise (position player): Andrew McCutchen looks as good as advertised, which I'm sorry to say means I doubted him at first.  But you know what?  Given the fates of some of the other recent Pirate first-round draft picks, it's easy to be skeptical.  Luckily, in "Cutch," we seem to have a real, legitimate superstar-caliber player.

Biggest disappointment (pitcher): Ian Snell went from a number-two starter to a first-class bust.  The only thing more disappointing than his on-field performance in Pittsburgh (and the awful attitude that accompanied it) is that there is apparently no interest in him on the trade market.

Biggest disappointment (position player): Speaking of no interest on the trade market, Adam LaRoche is in the midst of, arguably, his worst season out of his overwhelmingly mediocre stint in Pittsburgh.  The only time the homers seem to come, the bases are empty and the game is already out of hand.  Any other situation, and that gorgeous swing of his (which I say without sarcasm) is going right through a third strike.

Player I wish the Pirates would trade: Much as I dislike Ian Snell, this award goes to Adam LaRoche.  Garrett Jones can easily step in at first, thus allowing the Buccos' glut of outfield prospects to get regular playing time as well.

Player I don't want the Pirates to trade: Hello!  Scroll up and take a look at the picture that graces the blog, and there's your answer.  A very strong second would be his BFF and double play partner extraordinaire.

Best series played by the team so far: June 1-4 against the Mets.  Now, the Pirates did lose the rain make-up of the third game of this series (played a month later), but taking the three games that were played in early June, it was a very strong performance.  Whether it was taking advantage of a beleaguered Mets' bullpen with a five-run eighth in the opener, beating the always frightening Johan Santana in the second game, or bouncing back from the decimation of the Nate trade with a very satisfying 11-6 win the next day, it was a fantastic series.  A very close runner-up in this category is the three-game sweep of the Marlins April 20-22.  They came into Pittsburgh the hottest team in baseball, and left with their tails (well, at least their tail fins) between their legs.

Worst series played by the team so far: Oh, that there were not so many to choose from.  And yet...  Could it be the Mets' series May 8-10?  The sweeps at the hands of the Brewers (in late April), the Rockies (in mid-June), or the Phillies (just last week)?  It's kind of making me sick to think about, so let's make this one a four-way tie and move on.

Stat I'd most like to see the Bucs improve on in second half: Take your pick from any one of the offensive categories.  I'm not one of those "chicks [who] dig the long ball," but a few more home runs sure would be nice.  Or even just some more clutch hitting.  Or fewer men left on base.

Stat I'd most like to see hold steady in second half: This is the converse -- virtually anything with pitching and defense.  The starting rotation has, on the whole, out-performed expectations, and I'd venture to say that the bullpen has as well.  Plus with speedsters in the outfield and sure-handed fielders around the diamond, the defense is quite sound.

MVP of the first half (pitching): Zach Duke, for reasons cited above and elsewhere.

MVP of the first half (offense): Freddy Sanchez.  His 2006 form is back; his 2008 injuries are forgotten; and he remains the most reliable and consistent bat in the Bucco lineup.

MVP of the first half (defense): Is there any question?  Jack wins this one.  If defense could, like pitches, be called filthy, the moniker would apply to him.  He's arguably playing the best defense of his career, and I defy you to find me a Pirate shortstop prospect (or potential trade acquisition) who can turn half the plays that Jack does.

What I'm most looking forward to in/about the second half: A few things, which will be listed here at random...another 2.5 months of Bucco baseball...seeing the horrid, heaven-forsaken streak against the Brewers come to an end (it has to -- I mean, seriously)...potentially going to Cincinnati again to see the Buccos.

What I'm dreading most in/about the second half: Also at random...the trade deadline, and the deals for Freddy and Jack that are increasingly looking like only-a-matter-of-time realities...the horrid, heaven-forsaken streak against the Brewers continuing (what if it turns out that it actually doesn't have to end?)...October 4, 2009, in Cincinnati, the last game of the year.

With that said, let's get to it!

Bixler, Brian: Yikes.  Not a good place to start.  Bixler has consistently looked overmatched in the Bigs, and after all the fanfare about him in spring training, his early cup of coffee this year quickly turned bitter.  During one stretch, he struck out 15 times in 18 at-bats.  His defense is OK, but he will always be viewed (and rightfully so) in comparison to the incomparable Jack Wilson.  Not to be harsh, but I'm not sure "Bix" has a long-term future with the Pirates, or any Major League team, for that matter.  Grade: F

Cruz, Luis: He was quickly sent down at the beginning of the year, and hasn't seen more than an at-bat or two since his recall last week.  His defense is smooth, but is it smooth enough to take over for Jack or Freddy on an everyday basis, in the event of a cataclysmic trade?  That much remains to be seen.  For these reasons, he receives an I, for incomplete.

Diaz, Robinzon: My hope for Diaz (who was demoted when our next Bucco, Ryan Doumit, returned from injury) is that he will use this stint in the minors to work on pitch selection.  Much as the Pirate announcers like to compare him to Manny Sanguillen, and laugh about how he'll swing at anything, this isn't Little League.  If you go up there swinging at everything, word will get around, and pretty soon you'll be regarded as an easier out than Brian Bixler.  Diaz's defense also left something to be desired.  That said, production from the catcher's spot during Doumit's injury could have completely disappeared, and Diaz gets props for helping to make sure that didn't happen.  Grade: C+

Doumit, Ryan: His sample size is small (he was hurt less than two weeks into the season, and returned a mere three games before the All-Star break), and my view might be biased.  But the fact remains that Doumit is viewed as the leader of this team, and he must now share half of the "cornerstone of the franchise" weight (or should we say burden) with Paul Maholm in the wake of Nate McLouth's departure.  Doumit gets bonus points for consistently being one of the nicest Buccos anytime I meet him, and also for embodying a team-first attitude.  Grade: B

Hinske, Eric: Apparently management was disappointed with his stint with the Buccos; honestly, I'm not sure it was the best match.  Hinske was looking to start everyday, and despite the outcry from Pirate fans on talk radio (clamoring for the benching of Adam LaRoche or Brandon Moss in favor of Hinske), management didn't agree with such assessments of his role.  Offensively and defensively, he was kind of just OK.  He does receive bonus points for having the straightest teeth I've ever seen (seriously -- look at a picture of him) and for having a name that's similar to someone very important to me.  Still, his grade is: C+

Jaramillo, Jason: He's duking it out with our next Bucco for most pleasant surprise amongst position players.  He and Diaz actually formed a nice tandem during Doumit's injury, and Jaramillo performed (both offensively and defensively) beyond most anyone's expectations.  When you consider that the Pirates acquired him for the petulant and terrible Ronny Paulino, Jaramillo helps give bonus points to Neal Huntington as well.  The question is, how will he adjust to a bench role now that Doumit is back?  Definitely a storyline to focus on in the second half.  Grade: A-

Jones, Garrett: He's provided the power that the lineup has so sorely lacked, and hasn't seemed fazed at all by the Big Leagues.  Granted, he's been up for a total of two weeks, but still, to this point, I'm impressed.  Plus, his speed means that he can cause a stir on the basepaths and track down a lot of balls in the outfield, certainly more than opponents would expect, given his size.  He gets bonus points for being one of those guys who's finally making the most of his opportunity, after spending years blocked in the Twins' system.  Grade: A

LaRoche, Adam: A big conundrum.  Start to finish (or should I say start to halfway mark), this has been perhaps his most disappointing season in a Pirates' uniform.  The problem being that the worst he does for the Bucs, the harder it will be to find a suitable trade partner.  Which means, potentially, that the Pirates could lose him and gain nothing in return.  LaRoche's soft hands at first are definitely taken for granted, as he can pick it with the best of them.  But the numerous long, seemingly interminable slumps in which he just looks lost at the plate are so detrimental to the team.  How many times have we seen him strike out (swinging or looking), fly out harmlessly, or ground out weakly?  This is not the kind of production you need from your cleanup hitter.  Adam also loses points just for being a disappointment during his time in Pittsburgh.  That's not all his fault, but it's kind of amazing to look back at the fanfare that preceded his arrival, compared to the vitriole that will likely accompany his departure.  Grade: D+

LaRoche, Andy: Still very much a work in progress, but he gets bonus points for coming out this season with something to prove (namely, that he was worth trading Jason Bay for).  He is markedly improved both offensively and defensively, and even when he makes outs, it's usually with a line drive.  Andy is an intriguing player.  Grade: B

McCutchen, Andrew: The kid seems to have lived up to the hype.  Talk about not being fazed by the Big Leagues.  He runs (both on the basepaths and into the gaps), he hits (tying the league leader in triples within his first three weeks with the team), and he brings that utmost intangible, youthful energy.  If I could make one criticism, it's that the throws to the plate (or even the infield) need to get more accurate.  You can't sky one when the runner's coming home and it's a key situation.  And yet that's what we've already seen McCutchen do several times.  I'd also like to see the ego get in check a little bit.  Grade: A-

McLouth, Nate: Sigh.  Oh, Nate.  The middle of the order has been hurting since his departure, that's for sure.  Before that, he was always good for the key hit, or the late home run, or the running snare.  I'm lionizing a bit and I realize that, but I still miss Nate and what he brought to the lineup.  Some will say the Gold Glove is a farce; others will argue that he's not a legitimate star; but he was dedicated to the Pirates, and he gets bonus points for that.  Grade: A-

Monroe, Craig: Monroe was good for some big homers (his two three-run jacks in consecutive innings on April 18 rank among the best moments of the season so far, and resulted in the rare curtain call at PNC Park), but his lack of hustle was ultimately his downfall.  I liked the veteran leadership that he brought, but that "veteran" status (read: "old") also meant that he was somewhat slow, so virtually anyone else in the outfield is an upgrade (except, say, Steven Pearce).  The Pirates cut him loose, so it's difficult to give an unbiased grade.  Still, he receives a C-.

Morgan, Nyjer: Oh, Nyjer.  Infectious love of the game + a willingness to throw one's body around + a tangible sense of excitement whenever he took the field = a player who is sorely missed.  Yes, unfortunately, the strong first half that Nyjer cobbled together was ultimately enough to heighten his trade value, and the Pirates did the right thing and sold high.  It's too early to judge the return, of course (Lastings Milledge, I'm looking at you), but you have to wonder if an average player who's a great clubhouse guy isn't worth more, ultimately, than a five-tool guy with a bad attitude.  For his defensive prowess (best outfielder in the Majors), his havoc-wreaking on the bases, and his all-around approach, Nyjer receives an A-.

Moss, Brandon: About the only bonus points Moss receives are those for being one of my cat's three favorite Pirates.  Other than that, he's been a disappointment, to the point where he has been forced basically into a platoon role with Delwyn Young.  The promised power is in there somewhere, but it's going to have to emerge, and soon, lest the fans engage in another anti-Bay-trade uprising.  Moss isn't bad defensively, but I'd love to see him be a little bit speedier in tracking down fly balls.  Grade: C-

Pearce, Steven: Perhaps the only player to look more overmatched than Brian Bixler, Steven Pearce presents a similar problem, in that, if the incumbent at that position gets traded, what do the Pirates do without any viable internal replacements?  Pearce has looked downright awful at the plate, and even worse in right field.  Here's hoping he spends his latest stint in Indy (where he was optioned last week) learning how to avoid the sharp breaking ball at the plate, and learning to read the ball off the bat better in the field.  Grade: D

Salazar, Jeff: The sample size (4 at-bats) is simply too small.  Still, although a bench guy, Salazar represents someone with Major League experience, and he apparently will give McCutchen the occasional day off.  Check back at season's end on Salazar.  In the meantime, he receives an I.

Sanchez, Freddy: At the plate, Freddy seems to have regained his '06 batting champion form.  In the field, he's never looked better.  After an injury-plagued 2008 campaign, Freddy looks stronger and more confident this year.  He is the Pirates' best all-around hitter, and the longtime friendship he shares with double-play partner Jack Wilson (and the familiarity bred by that relationship) helps take their defense to a whole other level.  Grade: A+

Vazquez, Ramon: He was signed as a bench player, and that's pretty much been his role to this point in the season (save the week that he started when Freddy hurt his back getting out of a cab).  He's not much of a power threat, but he'll put bat to ball when asked.  His range in the field, however, leaves much to be desired.  Grade: B-

Wilson, Jack: Let's be honest here and admit that this is not going to be an unbiased review of Jack.  It never is, with me.  The nice thing is, this year, it's not just me thinking that he's the best defensive shortstop in the Majors -- the metrics confirm it, too.  The pundits say that Jack is playing the best defense of his career, and it's rare to see a nightly highlight reel scroll by without an entry from #2 at short.  Plus, he's been showing a little bit more pop at the plate, and has been making good contact all year, especially of late.  Jack gets major bonus points for being a class act off the field, and we can only hope he'll still be in black and gold when the time rolls around for the end-of-the-season review.  Grade: A+

Young, Delwyn: Acquired for, essentially, a bag of balls, Young has been another very pleasant surprise.  His pinch-hit numbers are impressive, but I'd love to see him be more consistent when he starts.  And I don't think anyone could argue that the defense (in both his natural outfield and his still-in-the-learning-phases second base positions) needs to get better.  Still, he's worked his way into being an integral cog in the Pirates' machine.  Grade: A-

Overall, despite their mostly strong individual grades (I must be in a benevolent mood), the offense receives a C+.  The lack of clutch hits, the bevy of men left on base, and the sheer inconsistency (often ranging from 7-10 runs one night to 3-5 hits the next) are just paralyzing this team.  The defense, on the other hand, which has been a strong suit, is, in fact, strong enough to merit an A.

Burnett, Sean: Overall, solid, with the exception of the game against the Astros on April 16 and the game against the Padres on April 24.  Burnett definitely showed improvement over last year. apparently to the point of becoming attractive to the Nationals. Grade: B

Capps, Matt: Of course, his most recent appearance was Saturday's debacle (which might be coloring my perceptions), but even before that, he's been questionable all year.  The walks and home runs are up, the strikeouts are down, and count me among those concerned for his future.  Grade: C

Chavez, Jesse: Arguably the biggest surprise on the staff.  With his 11.45 ERA in spring training and the fact that Evan Meek's illness was the only reason he came north with the club, I thought for sure he'd be the first to be sent down.  Instead, Chavez has been solid, and John Russell has shown confidence in going to him against all kinds of hitters, in all kinds of situations.  Grade: A-

Duke, Zach: Arguably the second-biggest surprise on the staff.  His hard work in the offseason has undeniably paid off, and he has been the Bucs' most consistent pitcher to date.  Even when tagged with the loss, he's still thrown good games.  Remember that stat I threw at you yesterday -- in those eight losses, he's gotten a total of seven runs of support.  It will be fun to watch him in the second half.  Grade: A+

Gorzelanny, Tom: His demotion in spring was a pleasant surprise.  His promotion (to the bullpen!?) was also a pleasant surprise.  Although management seems to fancy him a starter in the organization's long-term plan, I kind of liked his work in middle relief.  Let's just say I'm intrigued.  Grade: B-

Grabow, John: The Pirates' most consistently reliable reliever.  The only bad thing I can say is that if he's traded, the bullpen becomes significantly -- almost frighteningly -- less formidable.  Johnny Grabs will also always get bonus points for being a fantastic bowling partner to my roommate and me two years ago.  Grade: A

Hanrahan, Joel: A little too early to comment on his performance for the Pirates.  Suffice it to say that things did not go well with the Nationals.  Anytime you're removed from the closer's role in the worst bullpen in baseball, it's far from a feather in your cap.  Hanrahan gets bonus points for earning the win while taking a nap in his hotel room last week, but his grade is still an I, for incomplete.

Hansen, Craig: I'm giving Hansen an incomplete as well, since he's spent most of the season battling a freak injury and only appeared in 5 games so far.  As far as I've heard, there's no timetable for his return.  Obviously, Pirates' management liked him enough to get him included in the Jason Bay trade last year, but Hansen still has a lot to prove.  Grade: I

Jackson, Steven: He was obtained primarily for his sinkerballing abilities, and we've seen that, a little bit.  But we've also seen a fair amount of walks (11 in 18.1 innings) and hits (16 in 18.1 innings), and those numbers are going to have to go down if he's going to be a true, high-leverage reliever.  Of course, he's also in Indianapolis right now.  Grade: C+

Karstens, Jeff: An interesting case.  He was OK -- not great, not terrible -- over the course of his ten starts.  But then, upon his "demotion" (if you will) to the bullpen, he got really good.  Take Sunday, in which he struck out the side against one of the best hitting teams in baseball.  He is kind of struggling from Gorzelanny syndrome -- what is his long-term role?  It will be interesting to see.  Karstens gets bonus points for being one of my cat's favorite Pirates.  Grade: B-

Maholm, Paul: Arguably the biggest disappointment on the staff so far.  You don't need to go too far back in the blog to see that my expectations for "Money" were very high going into the season, perhaps unfairly so.  Maholm's season has been marred by inconsistency so far -- he's either been really good (giving up a few runs several times) or really bad (giving up 5+ several times).  His task for the second half is to get more consistent in those "few runs" games.  Grade: B-

Meek, Evan: Still too many walks (24 in 33.2 innings), but so far, he's been proving the Pirates' management right for keeping him despite all the Rule 5 red tape last year.  Meek also gets "cat favorite" bonus points.  Grade: B-

Morton, Charlie: His stuff is nasty, but it needs to be harnessed.  He also carries the burden of being one of the guys who came over the Nate McLouth deal that was hugely unpopular amongst the Pirate fanbase.  Another guy who's intriguing, but whose sample size is too small.  Hence, his grade is an I.

Ohlendorf, Ross: Tree Trunk Arms has been a strong fourth starter, and he seems to rise to the occasion when facing an elite opponent (Cliff Lee and Cole Hamels come to mind most recently).  He gets bonus points for being a Princeton grad, and for apparently being frighteningly smart.  Not much seems to rattle him, and that calmness can only be a help going forward.  Grade: B+

Snell, Ian: Terrible performance on the field, worse attitude off of it.  And yet we wish him all the best in Indianapolis, because the better he does there, the more it maximizes his trade value.  Grade: F

Vasquez, Virgil: His Pirates' debut was pretty good (not great), but since then he's been pretty much your standard organizational sixth starter.  He gets bonus points for his formidable head of hair, but his high walk numbers (much, much higher than advertised) are a major cause for concern.  Maybe it's unfair to give Vasquez a letter grade when Charlie Morton (who's started more games) gets an incomplete, but you know what?  He's still getting a grade.  And it is a C-

Veal, Donnie: What can you say -- he's kind of the classic Rule 5 guy.  He has to stay on the Major League roster, even if it means riding the pine.  That's pretty much what's happened to this point, and in some ways his injury in late May (which kept him on the DL through early July) was a blessing, although that sounds horrible to say.  He gets bonus points for having an inspirational personal story.  Grade: C

Yates, Tyler: Will he ever pitch again?  He's been hurt for what seems like the entire season (in truth, he's made 15 appearances covering 12 innings), and when he's pitched, it's not been good (he's given up 12 runs in those 12 innings).  He loses points just for being a disappointment, both with his performance and with his injury.  Grade: D

Overall, I'm giving both the starting pitching and the bullpen a B.  Compared to the rest of the league, the Pirates' pitchers are, on the whole, not that impressive.  But compared to last year (I shutter to even think about it), there's been a marked improvement, up and down the staff, both in terms of the individual personnel, and the skills of that personnel.

On Friday night, sitting at dinner with my parents (who still live in my childhood home in what I have come to term "the wrong side of the state"), something provoked my dad to quote George Costanza from "Seinfeld," a show we would always watch in syndication, each night after "Jeopardy!," when I still lived back home.  "The sea was angry that day, my friends, like an old man sending back soup at a deli."

In some ways, his words would become oddly prescient, because the elements -- indeed, the very universe -- seemed to be conspiring against the Pirates during this most recent series.  How else can you explain all that went on -- Zach Duke throwing another complete game on Friday but losing (and not for the first time this year, either)?  Matt Capps doing his best Ryan Vogelsong impression and turning in an absolutely abyssmal ninth inning on Saturday?  Virgil Vasquez doing his best John Van Benschoten impression and getting smacked around yesterday, putting the Pirates in a hole out of which they could not climb, in a style so reminiscent of last year?

Because that's the thing about this series, the final one of the first half.  In each of the three games, the Pirates were undone by one inning.  On Friday night, it was the bottom of the third, in which the Phillies scored all three of their runs.  Other than that, Zach Duke was fantastic, and apparently made such an impression on Phils' skipper Charlie Manuel that he named him to the All-Star team prior to yesterday's game.  On Saturday, it was the bottom of the ninth, which will be elaborated upon momentarily, and which ranks among the most painful experiences I have had as a Pirates' fan.  And yesterday, it was the bottom of the first, in which a poorly placed 0-2 fastball to Pedro Feliz was deposited into the seats and essentially ended the Pirates' afternoon before it had begun.

Another thing that struck me about this series was John Russell's managerial choices in it.  Now, in fairness, I didn't see more than an inning or so of Friday's game, as shower preparations were, at that time, in full force.  But I thought he made some terrible decisions on Saturday night.  For one thing, he left Tree Trunk Arms in the game way too long.  I agree that having to pull your starter before he's completed six innings is painful, but not as much as watching him get smacked around as the Phillies did in the bottom of the sixth.  And in the end, Russell wound up pulling TTA in that inning anyways, so I would have loved to have seen a quicker hook.  Interestingly, I thought the opposite of his choice to bring in Matt Capps in the ninth.  Obviously, this is a case of hindsight being 20-20, but John Grabow had a great outing on Saturday night -- two scoreless innings in which his pitches (29 total) were crisp and impressive.  The Pirates hadn't needed their bullpen on Friday, thanks to Zach's effort, and they had had an off day on Thursday.  So Grabow should have been fresh, and I would have loved to see him stay out for the ninth.  Plus, even if he wasn't completely comfortable with the idea and wound up slightly overextending himself, at least he had the upcoming All-Star break in which to rest.

But lest this turn into a John Russell-bashing session (a pasttime in which, despite its popularity among the Bucco faithful, I don't regularly participate), I thought his pitching choices yesterday were quite wise.  Vasquez obviously didn't have it, so I loved that Russell put him on a short leash and didn't hesitate to bring Jeff Karstens in.  He promptly threw 3 2/3 brilliant innings that left the Phillies' announcers (whom I listened to while hoofing it back to the 'Burgh) highly impressed.  Evan Meek, Donnie Veal, and Joel Hanrahan followed with impressive performances of their own, meaning the bullpen limited the Phillies' bats (mighty on their own, but even more so in the confines of their bandbox ballpark) to three baserunners in the final 6 2/3 innings.  I think it goes without saying that you hate having to go to the bullpen in the second inning, but when they perform like that, it lessens the sting a little bit.

Of course, I'm still waiting for something to lessen the sting of Saturday night's loss.  I attended the game with the bride-to-be, her sister Chris, Kev (aka the blog's most loyal reader) and his wife Jean, my friends Matt and Hykos (in a virtual tie for the blog's second-most loyal readers) and my dad.  Within that group, my dad and I were the only Pirates' fans, with Jean going half-and-half in her Raul Ibanez t-shirt and stars-and-stripes Pirates hat.  In typical Philadelphia fashion, the vitriole rained down upon me before we even got inside the park, but I continued my normal "road" practice of being respectful of other teams, stadiums, and fans, and quietly took my seat and set up my scorecard.  And though I clapped when the Pirates staked themselves to a 5-0 lead, and then a 7-3 lead, I was in no way obnoxious about it.  In fact, I remember even saying to Kev and Matt at one point that the Pirates had blown a 5-0 lead to the Mets not ten days before, so anything was possible.

Perhaps I shouldn't have even said that, shouldn't have brought that possibility into the cosmos, shouldn't have said (quite obnoxiously, I might add) upon Matt Stairs' towering blast to lead off the ninth inning, "I'm not worried."  Perhaps I should have been.

What happened next was, at that time -- and remains to be, even now -- a blur.  A walk here and a hit there, a heart-stopping fly ball off the bat of Shane Victorino that McCutchen tracked down, and an even more heart-stopping fly ball off the bat of Ryan Howard that he didn't.  The inning was simultaneously interminable and unbearably rapid-fire, and so when Paul Bako's winning single trickled through the left side of the infield, I was almost relieved, because it meant the end of my torture.

To their credit, my Phillies' fans friends were very good.  They could have rubbed it in; they could have laughed in my face.  Instead, I got a hug from Kev and an arm around the shoulders from Matt, as well as some genuinely sympathetic looks from everyone else.  I think because the end of the game was so shocking, none of us knew what to make of it.  I couldn't believe that the Pirates had lost, and my friends couldn't believe the Phillies had won.  And you know what?  Even though I was disgusted with the Pirates' performance, I couldn't begrudge my friends their euphoria.  After all, it had been just 364 days prior that Jean and I had watched the Buccos stage an improbable comeback of their own, against the Cardinals, in what remains the second-most exciting game I have ever been to.  (The first, in case you're wondering, was the Pirates' combined no-hitter in 1997, which, interestingly enough, also happened on July 12.)

But perhaps the most unbelievable thing of all that went down on Saturday night was the weather that then blew in.  No sooner had the remainder of the assembled crowd of 45,000+ (for indeed, many of them had left over the course of the Phillies' first eight innings of offensive ineptitude) finished singing "High Hopes" than did a few trickles of rain start falling.  Those trickles would increase to a shower, and by the time we got off I-95 heading for home, the shower had become a downpour.  I thought of the George Costanza quote, and decided the skies were angry at the Pirates' collapse.  Kidding aside, though, it was a harrowing trip back -- my dad said he had never driven in rain so hard.  But like he has done so many times before in my life, my dad took good care of me, and got me home safely.  He and I then recounted the game for my mom, who had actually watched some of it on TV and was nearly as excited as I was for the fantastic double play turned by Jack in the bottom of the seventh (definitely a redeeming attribute of the debacle, and perhaps the best of the year).

And then, just like that, it was time to return to the 'Burgh.  And ever since I've gotten back, I've been thinking about how a weekend that was so forgettable for the Buccos wound up being so unforgettable for me.  Sure, the end result of Saturday's game was terrible, but the experience of being at the game with most of my closest friends was great.  The bridal shower was great.  Being surrounded by so many people I love was great.

Now, if only the Pirates' performance could have measured up.

Most encouraging sign of the series: Garrett Jones is a legitimate power threat.  He homered in all three games of the series, including one in the opener that traveled over the batters' eye.  I like this guy.  He could be the real thing.  It's amazing what happens when somebody finally gets a chance.  Look at Freddy in 2006.  I'm not saying Jones is going to be a batting champ (or, for that reason, a 40 home run guy), but it's nice to see a guy make the most of his opportunity.

Most discouraging sign of the series: This is actually one of the discouraging signs of the first half, on behalf of poor Zach Duke.  Consider this -- including Friday's game, Zach has lost eight on the season.  In those losses, the Pirates have scored a total of seven runs.  Go back and re-read that, and then consider this -- given more offensive production, Bucs could easily have the Majors' leading pitcher in wins.

Things that make you go "hmm" (in a good way): The question on every Pirate fan's mind is, of course, should Jeff Karstens be moved back into the starting rotation?  My vote?  Yes.

Things that make you go "hmm" (in a not-so-good way): I'm not taking just Saturday night as a sample size, but it does stick out as representative of a problem that's been true throughout the season.  Why does Matt Capps' fastball not move, and how can he be a successful closer if it doesn't?

Jolly Rog status: Lowered, and glad for a few days off in which to regroup.