PITTSBURGH — Don't worry, John.

Those weren't boos you heard when you walked off the mound Monday night.

The 16,000 fans in attendance to witness the Pittsburgh Pirates' implosion against the Colorado Rockies were simply chanting: "Van BOO-schoten."

The right-hander's line was uglier than a bald Britney Spears with an umbrella: two innings pitched, nine earned runs, two walks, zero strikeouts.

Ronald McDonald threw out the first pitch before the game. He was more McLikely to get out of the third inning than Van Benschoten.

The din has been a familiar one at PNC Park this summer. The Boo Bird has become the Bucs' new mascot.

And the players are hearing it — loud and clear.

"At the time, it's hard," Van Benschoten said of making the slow walk to the dugout through the cascade of boos. "It sucks. You're aware of it. But you're out there on a stage and you're asked to perform."

The players also are hearing this familiar refrain: 14 straight losing seasons.

Van Benschoten was 12 years old when the losing streak started.

He can't be blamed for years of futility.

Well, maybe, a little bit for this one.

"Fans — they want you to perform," Van Benschoten said. "You just show up and hope you do well. You put a team together to win. You don't put a team together to lose."

But that's what the Pirates' management has done for 14-plus seasons. They have put together a losing team.

Perhaps that was not their intension, but that is what has happened.

The players can't be held completely responsible for 14 years of futility. Management has to take the bulk of the blame.

Instead, they wash their hands and say they put the best team they can on the field and it's up to the players to perform.

In reality, they aren't giving them a chance.

Van Benschoten is a prime example of this philosophy.

During his senior year at Kent State University, Van Benschoten was eighth in the nation with a .440 batting average. He also recorded 31 home runs and 84 RBI.

For an organization starved for position players, what did the Pirates' brass do when they drafted Van Benschoten in the first round?

They turned him into a pitcher.

Sure, he had a pretty good pitching resume, but it's hard to argue that he wouldn't be more valuable as a corner outfielder with some pop right about now.

Before Van Benschoten was called up from Indianapolis, he said he watched ESPN every night, dreaming of being in a big league uniform again.

Now that he is, he doesn't turn on the tube. He can't take the negativity.

"Since I've been here, you just don't watch TV anymore," he said.

Why should he?