Pirates one step closer to being outed as frauds after Kyle Schwarber re-signs with Phillies

Well, there it is. Kyle Schwarber is returning to the Philadelphia Phillies on a five-year, $150 million megadeal, and the Pittsburgh Pirates once again find themselves standing in the middle of the MLB offseason with their pockets turned inside out and a PR story they can no longer hide behind.

Let’s be clear: the idea of the Pirates offering four years and around $120 million to Schwarber was a seismic moment. A franchise whose previous record free-agent contract wouldn’t even cover Schwarber’s bonus money is suddenly throwing nine figures at a former NL MVP runner-up? That alone was enough to send Pirates Twitter into cardiac arrest. For a few hours, it felt like Bob Nutting had finally crawled out from behind the payroll curtain and decided, “You know what? Let’s act like a real baseball team today.”

But the truth is now staring everyone in the face: Pittsburgh never actually came close.

Because while the Pirates were offering their “historic,” “big swing,” “proof we’re serious” four-year deal to Schwarber just so they could pat themselves on the back and say "we tried," the Phillies simply did what real contenders do. They went to five years, they went to $150 million, and they closed. They didn’t float an offer for optics. They didn’t try to win in the media. They didn’t hope Schwarber would choose them out of sentiment or charity.

They paid the price of doing business. The Pirates, per usual, did not.

The closer the Pirates get to spending in free agency, the more obvious the fraud looks

This whole saga has been a stress test — not for Schwarber, whose market behaved exactly as it should — but for the Pirates’ front office.

Because now we have our answer: when the moment comes to truly break precedent, push past comfort zones, and actually reel in a star, Pittsburgh stops at “almost.” And “almost” is where frauds get exposed.

If the Pirates’ reported offer to Schwarber was real, it feels increasingly like it was designed to meet only one goal: PR cover. "See? We tried. We were in. We made a record-setting offer!”

But the Phillies were always going to five years. Everyone knew that. The industry knew that. Heck, the Cincinnati Reds and Boston Red Sox probably knew that. If the Pirates really intended to sign Schwarber, they would’ve been in that range, too. They weren't.

Pirates fans aren't buying the optics anymore. They've lived through the same cycle too many times: leak interest in a big-name free agent, get national writers to say the Pirates are "serious," make a competitive-on-paper-but-not-really offer, lose the player to a team actually trying, and pat themselves on the back for "being in the conversation."

This isn’t ambition. It’s marketing. And the closer the Pirates get to pretending they’re players for legitimate stars, the more glaring the gap becomes between what they say they’re willing to do and what they actually do.

You cannot promise fans aggression. You cannot promise increased payroll. You cannot tell everyone that “this is the year" –– and then sit there watching your biggest swing amount to nothing more than a footnote in someone else’s victory lap.

Schwarber signing in Philadelphia doesn’t just close a door. It shines a floodlight on how far the Pirates still are from operating like a franchise with intention, urgency, or accountability.

The Pirates wanted the credit for trying. The Phillies wanted the player. Guess which one actually matters?

If Ben Cherington and Bob Nutting don’t immediately pivot and actually land someone — a multi-year deal, a real free agent, a genuine impact bat — then the Schwarber chase will go down as nothing more than the moment the Pirates almost proved they weren’t frauds… and instead proved they’re getting dangerously close to being exposed as exactly that.

Your move, Pittsburgh.