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Thursday, November 09, 2000

It was nothing more than one of those throwaway letters sports teams send to season-ticket holders in which they attempt to paint a glorious picture of the immediate future in the hope that the recipient will continue to support the club.

But it also tells a story about the 2001 Pirates and what kind of team it will be.

This particular letter was sent to Pirates' season ticket holders and was signed by owner Kevin McClatchy.

"While the 2000 season did not live up to our expectations," he wrote, "there are several reasons to believe our future will be bright."

Toward proving that point, McClatchy went on to name seven players who figured in that bright future. Not surprisingly, Brian Giles, Jason Kendall, Kris Benson, Aramis Ramirez and Adrian Brown were in that group. Slightly more surprising, but not astonishingly so, Alex Ramirez and Enrique Wilson were included among the elite Pirates. The two players had been acquired from the Cleveland Indians in July in exchange for Wil Cordero.

The letter was written in early October, shortly after the conclusion of the season.

About a month later, the letter looked kind of stupid. On Nov. 1, the Pirates announced they had sold Alex Ramirez to the Yakult Swallows of the Japanese Central League. What they received in exchange was not stated, but two cases of sake was a possibility.

So what were the Pirates doing trading one of the players their owner had labeled as a reason to be excited about the future? Was this another boneheaded move on the part of the team in the mold of, say, the Jon Lieber-for-Brant Brown deal? Would McClatchy live to regret his praise of Ramirez as much as he lived to regret his suggestion the Pirates might win 90 games last season?

To the contrary, the move had no boneheadedness about it. Instead, it spoke to a new way of doing business around the Pirates.

The message was clear: The owner wasn't making personnel decisions and the general manager was listening to his manager. The latter hadn't happened since Jim Leyland was the team's manager.

The abrupt departure of Ramirez almost certainly came at the urging of Manager Lloyd McClendon, and it almost certainly had to do with McClendon's wish to excise from the team players who did not fit his description of a Pittsburgh Pirate.

Possibly, McClendon and Ramirez had some minor problem last season when McClendon was batting coach. Possibly, it was nothing more than McClendon not liking the way Ramirez went about his business.

McClendon is a quiet man who's not in need of a big stick to make his point. The way he handles himself makes it clear how he expects his players to handle themselves. He's one of those men who exudes a quiet strength that most are not tempted to challenge.

Ramirez's abrupt departure points to the amount of clout McClendon brings to the job. For sure, the owner didn't make the request to unload Ramirez, and we can be just as certain it wasn't the general manager.

When Cam Bonifay was able to unload Cordero's contract, which ran through 2002 at $3 million annually, that move in and of itself was superb. Cordero brought nothing to the team but an above-average bat. He couldn't play the field and didn't care to run the bases with anything more than half-step above nonchalance.

But Bonifay wanted it known that he had acquired two somewhat sizzling prospects in return, players who could make immediate contributions.

No question, Ramirez brought some power numbers that indicated he might become a middle-of-the-lineup hitter. In 1998, he hit 34 home runs in 121 games at Class AAA Buffalo, a tough hitter's park.

But McClendon didn't want him. And that was enough.

The sale settles kind of a poetic justice on the Cordero trade. With Ramirez gone, the Pirates got for Cordero what he was worth -- a utility infielder.

The departure of Ramirez is a small footnote to the off-season, but it speaks clearly to a change of attitude on the team and in the manager's office.

Bob Smizik can be reached at bsmizik@post-gazette.com.