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Washington at Philadelphia. Nationals 11, Phailers 6.

So. Lesson learned.

If you're pitching to the Nats, and it's the ninth inning, and Manny Acta has just put on a turban and grabbed a crowbar and started to open the old wooden box marked "9906753," then you need to shut your eyes and keep them shut no matter what until the ballpark is silent again.

Because that old wooden crate the Nats are carrying from dugout to dugout isn't just any box from a government warehouse. No, this one houses the Ark of the Comeback, and it's been in storage since 1933. Once the Nats open the Ark of the Comeback, they have the power to level pennant-holders and lay waste to entire bullpens. They say a team that carries the Ark of the Comeback before it is invincible, and so far they seem to be right.

Which is how Tom Gordon, who didn't shut his eyes, got his face melted off by Baby Bear Milledge, St. Nick, Kearns, the Duca Death, Power Austin, and Dmitri Lawrencovich in the top of the ninth to spoil the Phailers' home opener. At least, BallWonk thinks that was Gordon who got his face melted off; it was hard to identify the remains beneath all the dripping gore of the 135.00 ERA.

When Little Red Riding Nat stumbled on the little house in the forest, she found that the bed was too soft, and the chair was too hard, but the Milledge was just right. Just right for a 2-for-4 day with a HBP, 2 RBI, and three runs scored with a two-run shot and a rally-starting single in the ninth. Welcome to the race, Baby Bear.

Delegate Count: Z-Man 1, Baby Bear 1.

Philadelphia at Washington. Phailers 4, Nationals 2

Blah blah blah excellent Nationals pitching blah blah blah no run support blah blah blah. Mumbo jumbo, in the wild-card race with even average batting, mumbo jumbo mumbo jumbo. Yadda yadda fifth consecutive game the Nats should have won yadda yadda instead they're 2-3 over that span yadda yadda, yadda yadda.

Sigh. The big news on the day was not that the Nationals took another easy win handed to them on a red-and-gold platter by the pitching staff and flushed it down the clubhouse toilet. Been there, done that. No, the big news on the day was the details of the Jack McGeary signing, which completed a stunning 20-for-20 signings sweep of the team's top draft picks. It's a signing that could revolutionize the drafting of prep athletes. Gone could be the old paradigm battle between crusty old trust-your-gut scouts drafting high school stars and Moneyball-era empiricist GMs drafting college stars. Heck, gone could be the structure of the farm system as we've known it since Branch Rickey.

With the McGeary signing, the Nats have become the first team to open a ROTC program.

Here's the deal: The Nationals will give McGeary a full-ride scholarship to attend Stanford. In return, McGeary must follow a strict regimen of supervised training and drills during the academic year. Then he goes on active duty and serves full-time over summer, participating in Nationals training exercises in Viera, Vermont, Potomac, Harrisburg, or even Columbus. His actual assignments each summer will vary. Then, once he graduates, he will owe the Nationals three or four years of full-time uniformed service.

The key for BallWonk is that McGeary will not be allowed to play NCAA baseball for Stanford, thus upholding baseball's status apart from the NFL and NBA in not totally exploiting college athletics as a free-labor training plantation. If the Nationals' ROTC experiment works out, and McGeary gets his degree and joins the rotation in Washington in June 2011, BW hopes the signing might become a model for other athletes. Attend college, play ball, and get paid for your labor.

On the other hand, it must be noted that the Nats farm system is now filled to the brim with high-potential pitching prospects, an amazing number of them lefties. Too bad hitting is the team's most desperate need at the big-league level. Our jury-rigged staff and bullpen can already silence the biggest bats in the league most nights, but our lineup is still consistently making even the sorriest has-beens, aren't-yets, and never-will-bes look like Cy Young candidates.

Those early morning drills at Stanford could get awfully lonely for young cadet McGeary. Next year, perhaps the Nats can send a batting prospect or two to join him.

Philadelphia at Washington. Nationals 4, Phailers 2.

Item! The Nationals signed the McGeary kid, who will now become a professional baseball player in the Nationals organization instead of going to college. Yay victory of sports over education! All of a sudden, the amount of probable quality pitching in the Nationals system is starting to look a little scary. There are now enough plausible two- or three-spot lefty starters in the system that we could be trading arms for bats in the next couple of years. And just like that, BallWonk's faith in The Plan is a lot stronger.

In other news, the Army Corps of Engineers announced late last night that it has scrapped its plans for rebuilding the flood defenses around New Orleans. Rather than relying on mechanical gates and pumping stations, the Corps now proposes to install Ray King and Luis Ayala as floodwalls.

Said Corps spokesman Lt. Col. Albert Drowner, "If King and Ayala could get out of a no-outs, bases-loaded situation with Branyan, Rollins, and Iguchi due up without giving up a run, they may be the most effective disaster stoppers known to human science." Accordingly, the new Corps plans for New Orleans call for King and Ayala to be placed at either end of the city's vulnerable canal system to hold back future storm surges.

Because Ayala not only got the last out of the catastrophe-averting seventh, but also faced Burrell, Howard, Rowand, and Helms in the eighth and notched two strikeouts looking and no runs given up, the Corps expects to place him on the Lake Pontchartrain openings of the canals, which is expected to face greater sustained stress in any future flooding event. King will be deployed along the eastern edge of New Orleans, where the levee system faces shorter, more intense strain in some circumstances.

Nationals general manager Trader Jim Bowden is said to be in discussions with the Army Corps of Engineers about a trade for the two relievers. Sources close to the negotiations say Bowden is demanding either Alex Rodriguez or Adam Dunn in compensation. Senior Corps officials who asked not to be named said they were growing frustrated with Bowden's outlandish demands, and are considering seeking authority from Congress to draft King and Ayala into the armed forces.

Philadelphia at Washington. Phailers 3, Nationals 2.

Sure, Z-Man had all the time in the world on that grounder in the eighth. But who expected that once he gloved the ball, he would stop, unpack a camp desk and folding chair, carefully address an envelope, stamp it, put the ball in the envelope, and then send it by airmail to first base?

And it turns out that airmailing the ball three feet over Bobby Fick's head is about two feet too high to make a play at first. Then the Big Fella pitched just well enough to escape unscathed from a no-errors inning. Too bad it wasn't a no-errors inning. And too bad Nook was covering center field all game about like a Speedo would cover Karl Rove.

So please, Zim, when you have time to make a good throw, please do not airmail the ball. Send it by ground.

Washington at Arizona.
Snakes 11, Nationals 4.
Snakes 1, Nationals 0.
Nationals 7, Snakes 6.

Press, Baltimore supporters, and Phillies fans will try to portray recent results in the desert as defeat for the Nationals. Opponents will say we lost two of three, got schooled by former ace starter, dropped a game away from .500 and lost a game on Florida.

These are the points to get out today in interviews and appearances. Call-in to talk radio also in order.

• Nationals outplayed NL-leading Arizona in two of three games. Nats played better game on Saturday, came up unlucky in one of the best games in all of baseball this year. On Sunday, came from behind late against large lead on getaway day. Defied all odds, significant contributions from secondary players. Should have been two wins in series, and everyone knows it.

• Rookie lefty John Lannan, just five days after preventing Barry Bonds from breaking home-run record, outpitched hottest pitcher in baseball on Saturday. Gave up only four hits to Webb's five. Unlucky broken bat made the difference in the game. Moral victory for Nationals pitching; upheld credibility of The Plan's reliance on young pitching for foundation of future success.

• Arizona's only clear-cut win game thanks to former Nationals star ¡Livo!. Shows Washington maintains strong tradition of player-development excellence established in Montreal. See also Pedro Martinez, Vladimir Guerrero, Milton Bradley, Jake Westbrook, Cliff Lee, Grady Sizemore, etc.

• Come-from-behind win better for morale than blowout win as team returns home for tough homestand against NL East. Nats have no dog in the fight for NL West pennant, but performance in Arizona should help prepare Nats to play decisive role in NL East race. Nats positioned to be the rock on which at least one division opponent will break in late season. Hopefully, Philly.

• Chief remains on form, closed Sunday's game with ease under adverse playing conditions.

• West-Coast exposure, moral victory against Arizona advanced Manny Acta's Manager of the Year campaign. Palpable sense of candidacy gaining ground.

• Nationals not playing for .500. Playing to win today's game every day. Success measured in 2008, 2009, 2010, not September 2007.

• Standings in division not important this year. Washington 5th from bottom in NL, out of bottom quartile in MLB. Third place in NL East within reach. On pace to win 74 games, 50 percent more than "experts" predicted in April.

Please remember to stay on-point. Use turn-phrases to move from questioner's grounds to your own: "What the critics don't understand is ..." or "Look, the truth is that ..." for example.

Washington at San Francisco. Nationals 8, Enablers 6.

Deep in the dog days of summer, the great slugger stepped to the plate in his crisp, creamy white home jersey, "GIANTS" emblazoned in old-fashioned block letters across his chest in black and orange. Throughout his career, the slugger had felt the sting of quiet, unspoken racism. He knew the majority of fans would never be comfortable with him holding this most cherished record. But that was OK; he had been an outsider all his life. He didn't live for the public, didn't care if they mistook his reserved manner for aloofness or self-importance. He didn't get along well with many of his teammates, either, but the slugger did his job and they did theirs and if their unconscious racism prevented them from ever really opening to him, that was their problem, not his.

The fans of the slugger's adopted home city supported him here in the famous ballpark. This city on the bay, one of the world's greatest natural ports, its peninsulas grabbing out into the sea to embrace a deep inlet that had awed writers and artists for generations, this international city of cultural diversity and high-tech entrepreneurship had welcomed the slugger and made him feel at home for the first time in his wandering life.

The slugger stood in to bat with 755 home runs already on his lifetime record. He'd hit his 755th just days earlier on a steamy August evening on the road. Tied with Hank Aaron. He thought of Hank, how he'd like to chat with the Hammer once this crazy season was over. But now it was time to bear down. To lock in. To hit 756 and pick up that hammer and start building a new record, somewhere out there in the purple night sky beyond center field where no hitter had ever gone before.

Work the count. Get that pitch to hit. Don't worry about strikes; only the third one counts. Here it comes now. Get that front foot down. Turn on it, turn on it ...

Crack!

The slugger felt it in the bones of his forearm before he heard the clear sound, that echo of a tree's fall, and he knew the ball was gone and wouldn't be coming back. His bat was already out of his hands, and he turned a step and raised his arms in triumph and let himself watch that ball go, that historic punctuation mark, that bridge to the land beyond 755. And then the great slugger, glowing in his creamy white Giants jersey and his black batting helmet with the two letters entwined in orange, began to jog the bases, his heart pounding, the crowd in ecstasy, his teammates pouring onto the field to welcome him home.

But that would come soon enough. For now, for a few steps more, the slugger ran on the field, alone, a solitary figure on a late summer night, the end of his career who knew how many steps behind and catching up, and it was a glorious thing.

For the great Giants slugger, the all-time home-run king, this would be the unforgettable date of his life for all the rest of his days: September 3, 1977.

BallWonk noticed some kind of hullabaloo during the fifth inning of last night's game. Sure, the Giants don't win a lot of ballgames, especially when that Bonds fellow is in the lineup, but that seemed a lot of fuss for a go-ahead run in the fifth inning. It's like every little league coach says: act like winning isn't a big deal, and it won't be. Especially when there's so much more game to be played.

OK, so this particular home run moved Barry Bonds into second place on the all-time home run list, but look at the man. He can barely walk, he hardly even pretends to run the bases anymore, he's like 57 years old, and he still has more than 110 home runs to go to catch the man who passed Hank Aaron in a Giants uniform in that great bay city in 1977. A-Rod might get there. If he stays healthy, Pujols should get there. But Barry Bonds? No way will he pass Sadaharu Oh's career record of 868 home runs.

So can we get back to the field, please? The Nationals have a ballgame to win.

###

Speaking of home run kings, check out this compilation of Sadaharu Oh's historic home runs. Look for number 756 starting at the 1:12 mark on the countdown timer. It's followed by numbers 800 and 868.

Washington at San Francisco. 11 Innings. Enablers 3, Nationals 2.

Bochy writes in his journal during Barry Bonds's first at-bat.

Publisher's Note: In preparation for possible book deal about Barry Bonds's home run chase -- working title "Managing 756" -- Giants skipper Bruce Bochy is keeping a diary of Bonds's performance. The following are excerpts from Bochy's journal entry for Monday's game.

Top 1st - Bases loaded, no outs. That Young fellow hits long fly to left. Easy out, but Barry struggles to get to warning track in time. Makes play look v. hard. Showboating or just too old to play? Never can tell. Hope B hits his damn 756 soon; take him out, shift Davis to LF.

Bottom 1st - Good fly ball ties game, if Barry can sac for team. Swings for fences, foul pop-up. Zimmerman kid nabs it on the run by dugout; great play. B out, doesn't help team. No surprise. Like having void b/w Winn and Bengie. Bat B 7th if I could; fans, press boys would crucify me.

Bottom 3rd - Another leadoff runner. Winn on first. Game still tied; Barry's job to advance runner to scoring position. Any hit puts Winn on 3rd; line-drive double scores run, puts B on first. B walks. Oh, goody. Catcher due up and B sets up triple play taking pitches. Molina pops up; no triple play. Whew. Durham hits grounder, B just gives himself up for the DP! Jogs down basepath like he doesn't want to interrupt this fine play Wash. is making. I wish to God B would just hit that HR so I can bench his ass. Tell press boys he needs rest after grueling chase. "Emotional toll." They'll eat that up.

Bottom 5th - Winn on again for Bonds, no outs. Game still tied. The great B suddenly hacking, not taking. Liner to left for hit and we'll wave Winn around. I don't think that Church can throw. Go-ahead run with good contact from cleanup hitter. But no, B hits grounder. Winn out at second, B out by 30 feet at first. Jogging again, admiring the pretty play Wash. is putting on. Can't be troubled to run, just gives himself up. Reminded of Waylon song: "Are you sure Hank done it this way?" Giving himself up to DPs? Pretty sure Hank didn't do it that way.

Bottom 7th - Vizquel on this time. Winn can't do it all himself. Two out, Barry up, game still 1-1. Rookie Lannan pitching deep into 7th. Looks like that King fellow getting up in 'pen. No, Lannan staying in. B hacking again; strikes out swinging. Not even close to that one; what was he swinging at? Put the bat over the plate and hope pitch misses up isn't hitting, it's guessing. Screw it. Fans have had their ABs. I'm sitting his ass. Tell B to ride the pine, he shrugs. Put Roberts in, shift Davis to LF. Defensive-offensive sub.

Bottom 11th - Finally see that King fellow in relief. Klesko doubles. Roberts draws IBB. No loss from Barry on offensive front! Davis sells fake HBP - have to give him one of those fake Oscar statues. Viz makes out at home. Winn up, pitcher's spot behind him, no protection except loaded bases. So won't be walked, but Ayala in to pitch. Can induce grounders. Fans mostly gone, too. WTF? Came to see B. Don't they ever notice that B in game means SF loses? B out of game, SF has fighting chance? Winn delivers, of course. Single to right, Roberts, late sub for B, scores. Giants win. Dammit, we'd have been right back in wildcard race if B had gone down with injury by All-Star.

Washington at Atlanta. Nationals 2, Tomahawks 0. About Freaking Time.

Thursday, April 5. Dear Diary,

Ever since I heard Don Imus yesterday I've been so mad and kind of ashamed. I was up all night on the alumni listserv. The whole Rutgers community is taking this personally. And we should. Crimson Knights stand together. Insult one of us, insult us all. I feel so bad for the women b-ball players. Worked so hard, finished second in the country, only to get called horrible names on national radio.

Problem though. Tired, angry, upset. Both arms shaking badly. Both "cannon" and "ballast." LOL. Not funny, really. Having trouble gripping ball, couldn't find slot, release point in warmups. First start of the season couple hours away. I'll hate Imus even more if he messes with my pitching. Concentration a pitcher's foundation. Here goes.

Friday, April 6. Dear Diary,

Disaster. Six walks, got hook in fourth. No concentration, no control. Total blowout.

Worse, Bowden just chewed me out in front of whole team and the press. Even Manny. Feel terrible for Manny; must be embarrassed to have GM go around him. Bowden: "Too many walks." No duh. Thanks, Sherlock, I guess I didn't notice at all. Geez, I thought last night went great, but now you point it out, I guess maybe I could stand to walk fewer guys. What a tard. Figures, though: Came to team from being morning jock on Cold Pizza. Like Imus, but for sports. Probably laughed at Rutgers insult.

Wonder where Bowden went to school. SMU? Amherst? LOL. Probably manager for basketball team. How'd he like it if his alma was made national laughinstock? Let's see him try to pitch then.

Wednesday, April 11. Dear Diary,

Celebration! Alum listserv says Imus fired from MSNBC. Petitions working! Yay! Halfway to victory. Next stop: CBS. Totally psyched, though. Texted Tom we're coming to NY; volunteered to join alum pickets mornings before games.

Dropped down to fifth in rotation, though, by Imus pal Bowden. Should have started tonight; Jerome going instead. Wish him luck, but still.

Thursday, April 12. Dear Diary,

Warming up for tonight's start. (Against Smoltz. WTF? Thanks Bowden!) So Ronnie comes up and he's like, "Did you hear the good news?" I'm thinking he's started some sort of new clubhouse ministry, but no. He's like, "CBS fired Imus. Upstream, red team, am I right?" Patted me on the back. I was speechless. Asked how he knew what was bugging me, and how he knew Rutgers fight song.

Said it was pretty obvious why I was so down. Plus I talked in my sleep on the flight down here! LOL - embarrassing. Said whole team behind me. Then get this: Ronnie goes, "Besides, have you seen my hair? You think I didn't take that old fool's insult personally too?" Hadn't thought of that; wrapped up in Rutgers alum stuff this last week. OK, so then Ronnie says, "Imus may think I'm 'nappy-headed,' but tonight I'm going to prove that I'm a 'ho.' Ho lotta trouble for fools like him, that is." OMG. Laughed ass off. Going to share that line with alum listserv.

Warmup throws felt much better after. Finding slot, release point comfortable. In BP, Ronnie hit line drive KRK! looked like laser beam to the wall. Absolutely flat the whole way. Thumped against padding like a bullet. Then he winked at me. Feeling good about game tonight. This one's for you, Scarlet Knights. Rutgers colors to the fore!

Washington at Atlanta. Tomahawks 8, Nationals 3.

Da Kine was alone on the mound, ready to throw his first pitch.

"Hey, Jerome," a voice said behind him. "You need a hand out here?"

Da Kine looked back over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the rosin bag behind the mound. Not wanting to look crazy, he kept his lips still as he whispered, "Who is there?"

"It's me, Coyote. I like to play tricks on these so-called Braves from the start of the Trail of Tears. And brah, you look like you could use some help."

Glancing around him, Da Kine saw no one else reacting to any loud, scratchy voice. Officer Schneider patted his glove and put his signals down.

"Go with the breaking ball, brah, and nibble the edges. Trust coyote on this," the voice said.

"You're just a voice in my head. Why should I trust you?"

"Didn't I pull your island home up from the sea with my bone hook Manaiakalani? Didn't I use a rope made from my sister's hair to lasso the sun to make the days long and the winters short in Hawaii? I see the shells around your neck and I see that you believe."

"Maui-a-kalena did those things, not Coyote," Jerome said as he prepared to throw.

"Maui, Coyote, Raven, call me Loki if you want. But trust me, and I'll give you the chance to beat these false Braves. Now throw your breaking pitches around the plate."

It's easy to dismiss ancient mythology as so many foolish old stories. Until you're standing all alone at the center of a stadium with your struggling team's hopes riding on your shoulders and you hear a loud, scratching voice that makes your nerves shiver. So Jerome tried to work the edges of the strike zone.

Ball one.

"Trust me. Just do as I say and you'll have the chance to win the game," Coyote said.

So Jerome tried again. Ball two. And again. Ball three. And again. Ball four. A leadoff walk to Kelly Johnson.

"No offense, Coyote, but I've followed your advice and now the leadoff man is on first."

"Ha ha ha!" Coyote laughed. "And he's gonna score, too. But don't worry. I like you, kid, and I'm gonna look after you. You just stick with me and you'll have a chance to win the game. Come on, you guys are gonna keep losing until May left to yourselves. What have you got to lose accepting help from a powerful demigod?"

Which made sense to Da Kine. So when Larry Wayne Jones Jr. homered to put the Tomahawks up 2-0, Da Kine didn't panic. He bore down, kept working his breaking balls around the edges and up in the zone and struck out the mighty Francoeur to end the first.

Then, in the second, the Nationals got two quick outs before Ryan Church singled and then advanced to third on Ronnie's single. Officer Schneider came up with a chance to tie the game with a hit. And, in true Nationals fashion, he worked the count with a beautiful at-bat and drew a walk.

Which brought the pitcher to bat with the bases loaded and two outs. "Well done Nationals," BallWonk said 650 miles north.

"OK, brah, here's your chance to win the game," Coyote said.

"What? No can, brah! I'm a pitcher, not a hitter!"

"You're a ballplayer. I can't do everything myself, you know. I don't even have a body here. You've gotta hold up your end and use the chances I give you. Any child in America would kill to come up to bat with the bases loaded, two outs, and the game in his hands like this. Now go up there and win this game!"

What choice did Da Kine have? So he went up and swung his cute little JV swing until he'd missed three balls and the Nationals ended the inning with three runners stranded and still down two runs.

"Maybe that wasn't fair," Coyote said.

"No, it wasn't," Da Kine replied.

"You didn't know what you were agreeing to. So to make things even, I'll give you one more chance to win the game. You start throwing your offspeed pitch down here and I'll make sure these false Braves don't score any more."

So Da Kine was not fazed when he walked Thorman, the number six batter, gave up a single, and then walked the opposing pitcher to load the bases with no outs in the second.

"Perfect," said Coyote. "This is what I do best. Watch this, brah. Just keep the ball down."

Which Da Kine did, leading Kelly Johnson to slap the ball hard up the line, where Dmitri Lawrencovich stood perfectly positioned to field the ball, step on first, and throw home to Office Schneider for a clean tag up the line for a double play to stop the run.

"Stick with me, kid," Coyote said. "No one gets out of a jam like Coyote."

And so it went, until the fourth. Again, the Nationals batted into two quick outs. Then Ronnie singled, and Officer Schneider worked a beautiful at-bat for another perfectly ill-timed walk.

"Here it is, Brah, your second chance. Just hit a home run here and you'll win the game," Coyote said. "Guaranteed."

"What?!" Da Kine asked.

Felopez was coming up from the dugout to the on-deck circle. "You OK there, man?" he asked Da Kine.

"Ah!" The startled pitcher jumped. "Nah, I'm fine. Gonna go hit me a home run," he said.

"You go get 'em, man!" Felopez laughed.

But again, Da Kine's adorable little JV swings availed him nothing, and he struck out swinging. Again.

"I've had about enough of your trickster help, Coyote," Da Kine said.

But there was no answer. Suddenly, the southern night air was cold on Da Kine's face, and goosebumps raced down his arms. The shadows looked darker, too, Officer Schneider's fingers nearly invisible behind the plate. Da Kine felt suddenly very alone, and very far from home. But he had a job to do, a job he loved, and the truth is you don't become a pitcher unless you get a rush from standing alone in the center of a crowd, sixty feet from any teammate, with the weight of thousands on your shoulders. He hit three home runs in a game once, the same day he threw a no-hitter, and like any of the best young athletes he could have gone either way, one of nine men with a bat or one man alone on a hill. He chose the hill, and here he was, and he certainly didn't need the help of some half-forgotten demigod.

Basides. Da Kine didn't know abut Coyote, but he knew how things ended for Maui-a-kalena: grasping beyond his reach to steal the fruit of immortality from the gods, he was caught and his brains bashed out with a rock on the beach. Stick with what you can do, Jerome thought, and trust your batters to score some runs. You do your part, and you go home happy.

Which he did, pitching the fifth skillfully, not letting his own mental and throwing errors get to him, and giving his bullpen a winnable game after five, which was the plan for the Nationals rotation all along.

Washington at Atlanta. Tomahawks 8, Nationals 0.

ATLANTA - Nationals President Stan W. Kasten celebrated Tuesday's defeat against Atlanta as proof that his efforts to rebuild the franchise are beginning to succeed.

"As recently as last week, this team went 0-13 with runners in scoring position in a single game," Kasten said. "No team can succeed when it strands so many runners, and this team will never be a contender until it reduces the number of runners stranded on second or third. Tuesday night in Atlanta, this team took a giant step forward, stranding only one runner on second base. That represents a 92 percent reduction in just five days."

Kasten described the steep reduction in runner strandings as a "benchmark" in The Plan, his new strategy to field a contending team by 2009, or maybe 2010. "Now that we've met this important benchmark, it will be up to manager Manny Acta to maintain Tuesday's low level of runner strandings."

Some critical fans questioned whether the reduction was a sign of real progress and threatened to withhold funding for continued baseball operations in Washington.

"I would hope fans will keep showing up and not undermine the players with non-attendance," Kasten said. "The Plan is just starting to show signs of real success, but we need to be patient and resolute to see this team through to victory in 2009, or maybe 2010. Until then, it would be counterproductive to set any timetables for winning another game."