This rancid offense begins with grossly misplaced priorities

“No," he'd respond to the first part, then proceed, "There’s a lot of work going on. We’re going through a tough stretch right now. We just have to keep working and build ourselves out of it.”

There was seven seconds, then a glance around the room as if to seek the next question.

But if I'd asked about a player?

And this "tough stretch" that he'd reference, I'll have to presume that's a stretch of four-plus seasons now in which the Pirates rank dead-last in the majors in runs. Which, granted, is a tough stretch and a half, huh?

I like the man. I really do. Always have. But that's a laughable lack of accountability within the broader context that none of Cherington, Shelton, Haines or anyone associated with this front office all the way up to Travis Williams have come within a figurative solar system of succeeding here. At anything. Their cumulative record's 232-346, they've never finished above fourth in a five-team division and, not at all insignificantly, their minor-league system, which gets falsely inflated in some eyes for the simple reason that Paul Skenes exists, currently has a Class AA affiliate in Altoona that's lost 14 games in a row with a lineup built of a bunch of .180-something banjos.

It's carrying over to Termarr Johnson now, too. He's the No. 4 overall pick in the 2022 draft, he slugged 18 home runs last season, he banged the ball all over creation in spring training, and now he's batting .197 for Class A Greensboro with one home run and three extra-base hits through 97 plate appearances ... but hey, he's got those 17 walks!

It's Year 5 for this leadership, and they act as if their general waste doesn't stink.

It does. 

Imagine feeling self-assured in the people or the process, in the instruction or the acquisition, of this lineup that Shelton sent out in front of 20,646 paying Pittsburghers:

Look at those averages. It's early May. It's Year 5.

Imagine feeling like you're right and everyone else is wrong when 37 plate appearances brought another 12 strikeouts, including at least one by every name in that lineup, three of which looked -- and I do mean looked -- like this:

Imagine that those 37 plate appearances brought four total hits, lowering the team's batting average to .224 overall, .197 over these past 22 games in which they've gone 5-17.

Imagine that Colorado's lucky starter, Cal Quantrill, lugged a 5.34 ERA onto this mound, only to come within four outs of a freaking shutout. He'd settle for 7 2/3 scoreless innings, three hits allowed and nine strikeouts.

Imagine that the Rockies won for just the eighth time in 32 games, still stuck to the National League's worst record.

Imagine that, in the series that immediately preceded this one out in Oakland, the almost equally awful Athletics swept slammed the Pirates by an aggregate 14-3.

My friends, a soul infinitely wiser than any of us once pontificated that the first step in addressing any problem is to acknowledge it. They aren't doing that. Cherington isn't doing it. Shelton isn't do it. No one is. They're all about the slump, the struggle, the scuffle ... and then sending someone back to Indy.

Oh, and they'll bring up a lack of hitting with runners in scoring position. For real. Even though they know -- and I mean they know -- that doesn't matter in the slightest to a team that's batting .197 overall through a 22-game span. The vague concept of clutch-iness as a skill has been blown up by the advanced analytics community a billion times over, and with cause. It's being cited as low-hanging fruit aimed at those who casually follow baseball, and that's disingenuous bordering on deceitful.

Haines was quoted as saying the following this week in Oakland in an interview with MLB.com, regarding the Pirates' offense: “We have to cash in on those opportunities if we want to win. There’s no prize for just getting ‘em out there and saying, ‘Good job.’ This is dog eat dog.”

He doesn't believe that's even 0.1% of what ails the offense. Neither does Cherington. Neither does Shelton. None of them believe that failure in the clutch supersedes just plain old failure. In this game, the Pirates went 1 for 4 with runners in scoring position. They know -- and, again, I mean they know -- that the focal point's always on the number who reach, not the number who magically unearth their inner Derek Jeter.

I could go on. I'm done. I'm bored.

I spent part of the seventh inning setting up this pretty cool pano of some ominous clouds collecting over Downtown ...

... then almost fell asleep at my seat, I swear.

Wake me up when anyone in this operation can explain how Neil Walker, who rolled out of the womb able to put bat to ball, is paid by the team to be up in the broadcast booth teaching us about hitting.