Just three years ago, Piniella managed Seattle to an American League-record 116 wins. But he could well end up with 116 losses with Tampa Bay in 2005. So last month, an angry Piniella called out ownership for its sub-$30 million payroll (or only a few million more than what Alex Rodriguez makes) and its broken promise, upon hiring him in 2002, to do what it took to get a winning ballclub. Piniella's agent and Rays management had meetings regarding his statements, and when the meetings ended, Piniella took a firm stand — he would honor his contract.

That's it? No tossing a base at Naimoli? No sending his hitting coach, Lee Elia, to do a recitation of his famous 1983 Wrigley Field rant, subbing "Naimoli" for "Cubs fans?" Sure, Naimoli tries to be a bit of a tough guy himself, with his innovative marketing plan of yelling at businesspeople who don't buy tickets to Devil Rays games and yelling at fans who do. But Naimoli is a paper tiger. Dewon Brazelton, one of the worst pitchers in baseball, went AWOL rather than accept his demotion to Tampa Bay's double-A affiliate, and Naimoli did nothing.

It's not like Piniella wouldn't have had the support of whatever Devil Rays fans there are if he pulled a Brazelton. Soon before the Devil Rays' opening Opening Day in 1998, Naimoli told the St. Petersburg Times he wanted the team to be a "rallying point for everyone in our area." The only rallying point for everyone in the Tampa Bay area is that they all hate Naimoli for being a contender for the league lead in profitability and a doormat on the field.

Clearly, the remainder of the $3.5 million Piniella is owed this year, as well as the $4.5 million next year and $1 million in deferred compensation still coming, meant more than taking a stand and just quitting. Piniella won a World Series with the Cincinnati Reds, for Pete Rose's sake — it's not like he would have trouble getting hired elsewhere.

Instead, Piniella has sold his soul to sit on a rotting bench. When he tries to play tough guy, he looks ridiculous, not intense.

The night of July 5, when a relief pitcher for the second straight night blew an eighth-inning lead, Piniella vowed to start one of those sorry relievers for a few innings, then insert his actual starting pitcher. Having already made plans to go the July 6 White Sox-Devil Rays game at US Cellular Field, I held out hope that with such a desperate and nutty idea in place, Piniella was gearing up for one of his classic temper tantrums. Would he attack White Sox mascot Southpaw like he did the Chicken?

Alas, the man they call Sweet Lou really was Sweet Lou that night. From my seats in right field, I could see scheduled starter Casey Fossum warming up in the Devil Rays' bullpen before the game. So much for the starting-the-reliever idea. And as the White Sox pounded out a 7-2 victory, you'd never know Piniella was in the ballpark. No one tossed bases, no one's dedication to baseball over family got questioned and Southpaw was unharmed, though he looked a little wobbly after tumbling over a fence in the children's play area.

Piniella left the Reds and the Mariners because they wouldn't shell out for big-money players in the heat of a pennant race. Piniella came to Tampa Bay in part because he's from there, but how he deluded himself into ever thinking the Devil Rays would shell out for even medium-money players is a mystery. Maybe he had already handed over his balls when he got hired. Maybe that's the reason why, for the first time, when confronting upper management, he wouldn't put his money where his mouth was.

E-mail Bob Cook at bobc@flakmag.com.