From the herald

 

It's still too early to judge the season a failure

 

By GREG COTE

 

gcote@herald.com

 

 

Looking around for a panic button. Apparently that's a must now. Not sure what it looks like, exactly. Flashing red, probably? People keep telling me I need to find it, fast, and mash it down, hard, like a contestant on a game show.

 

Not sure where the button is, though. Must be buried somewhere around here underneath these 88 remaining games, under these three long months ahead when still sails might billow fat with tail wind for all we know on a breezeless, late June night.

 

Can't purvey common sense, though. No. Isn't fashionable. Can't mention how plain silly it is to jettison hope on a Marlins season that still shows the fifth-best record of 16 NL teams and finds the locals in -- on the edge, OK, but well in -- the playoff chase.

 

That's too dull, right? The people want strident shrieking, not some dull voice of moderation. Too many of the people are beginning to see Jack McKeon's smoldering cigar half spent, not half left.

 

Bench Mike Lowell! Drop Juan Pierre in the order! Banish Al Leiter to the bullpen! Trade A.J. Burnett for a bat and a Band-Aid! Do something! Today!

 

That's the vibe we're starting to feel. Panic. A call to action, or for change.

 

A game like Tuesday night's throws much mulch on that fire, so that the smoke thickens and becomes harder to ignore. It's a listless 9-1 home loss to the nemesis Braves you somehow need to catch. It's more of the same offensive impotence. It's a night when even your ace never leaves the deck, when Dontrelle Willis' 12-2 record and 1.76 ERA going in aren't as pretty coming out.

 

Good night to wring hands or want to wring necks, all in all. Or at least wring wet clothes, after yet more rain did not deter 20,129 fans but provided another annoying reminder why that dreamed-of domed stadium is sort of important.

 

WHEN IT RAINS. . .

 

A bad month and a bad loss brought the boos out fast when the umpire called a rain delay with the Marlins down by seven in the top of the ninth. The Marlins' tarp gang -- which had seen its Grounds Crew of the Year dreams dashed in comical ineptitude the night before -- redeemed itself with a valiant run to cover an already soggy infield.

 

Remaining fans let loose a robust mock cheer. A few grounds crew troops doffed caps into the sheet of rain.

 

The game resumed after a near hour's delay. It was like sitting and sitting in a wet theater staring at a blank screen in order to eventually watch the final credits roll.

 

Heck, when even D-Train is off the rails, who can you trust? Willis had been carrying the Marlins piggyback all season prior to Tuesday's mortal loss. How dare he spend seven innings as Clark Kent? How dare he bleed?

 

Willis is having one of the great individual seasons in our pro sports history, a conversation that always starts (and still should end) with Dan Marino's record 1984.

 

Tuesday didn't ruin all that for Willis, just as a season isn't lost to four weeks and three days that must have left McKeon wondering why he goes to church nearly every day -- or whether he needs to start going more.

 

Even old Jack is not immune. The Marlins' 12-20 record in the slide has seemed to knock the grandfatherly charm from McKeon, not to mention the wisdom, evidently. The guy was an inspiration into late May. Then all at once he couldn't manage anymore, pending the next win streak.

 

Does McKeon's new book, called I'm Just Getting Started, require a rush-job sequel entitled, Oh No You're Not!?

 

It might, if you're a party to the panic parade. It does not, if you understand that Florida remains in decent shape overall, and know baseball can't be judged like other seasons. The rhythm of the longest season is different, the heartbeat irregular. It is a languid series of starts and hiccups, dips and spurts.

 

GO WITH THE FLOW

 

By this time in football or basketball, the season almost half gone, we have a keen idea how good the team really is, how far it might go.

 

Baseball is more inscrutable, especially with a team like the Marlins, brimming with talent, but underachieving. Do not dismiss such a team easily, tempting as that might be after a night and a month this bad.

 

Not yet, anyway.

 

Not when you look at the calendar, and you know the fireworks haven't even started.

The question troubling all of us is "what does it take for us to see the fireworks?"

 

So far we've mostly seen duds.