Baseball doesn’t do mercy, it does résumés—and résumés are rewritten the moment the losses pile up. The carousel of dugout leadership is relentless, demanding accountability even when the roster is held together by tape and hope. Now, an Ex-Pirates skipper steps forward, not with bitterness, but with candor, reminding MLB that failure isn’t final—it’s simply the league’s cruel version of professional continuing education.

The one feeling that every human will have is to prove their haters wrong and become successful. For some, success comes with their first try, but for others, it takes time. Ex-Pirates manager Derek Shelton did not have a very good time at Pittsburgh, but he is plotting his moves to make sure that his comeback will be stronger than before.

In a recent piece by Bob Nightengale, he talked about ex-managers who might be coming back to the diamond. One of the names was Derek Shelton, and during an interview, Shelton made his intentions clear. “When you go through a situation that’s a rebuild and all of the challenges for that, it helps you prepare for the next opportunity… I’d love to have another opportunity.”

Derek Shelton’s time in Pittsburgh was rarely smooth, defined by constant roster churn and an underperforming offense. Hired in 2019 to reset the franchise, he endured trades of stars and a near-bottom payroll. His upbeat nature was tested as the Pittsburgh Pirates slid into repeated losing stretches, frustrating both the clubhouse and the fan base. The final blow came in 2025, when a 12-26 start sealed his dismissal from the dugout.

The firing hit Shelton hard, and he admitted, “You don’t expect it, and then it happens — it hurts.” Still, he later reflected with calmness.

“Someone has to take responsibility” when losses pile up, he remarked. That emotional sting cooled as weeks passed, particularly once his daughter’s volleyball tournament gave him perspective. In many ways, stepping away from the stress allowed Shelton to rediscover balance beyond baseball’s endless grind.

The Pirates, meanwhile, replaced him with Don Kelly, a longtime bench coach deeply respected in the clubhouse. Kelly has guided them to a .500 record (52-52), already a steadier mark than Shelton’s 12-26 collapse. Ownership praised Kelly as a “Pirate who bleeds black and gold,” emphasizing his passion for the city and team. Still, the larger question remains whether structural flaws in roster building are fixed or simply masked under new leadership.

Shelton himself has noted that managers often improve after their first, difficult assignments, gaining lessons from failure. The careers of Joe Torre and Terry Francona, who struggled early before winning multiple championships, underline his point. He acknowledged that “time and different circumstances can change a manager’s story,” leaving open his own next chapter. If Pittsburgh finds stability under Kelly, Shelton may still follow the path of those who thrived elsewhere.

Baseball’s dugouts rarely grant second chances, but history suggests they often create legends when patience runs thin. Derek Shelton may have left Pittsburgh battered, but Joe Torre and Terry Francona proved failure can be fertile ground. The Pirates now ride Don Kelly’s steadier hand, yet MLB knows résumés can flip overnight. If Shelton’s next chapter unfolds like theirs, his revenge won’t be loud—it will be tallied in October box scores.

The Pirates fans are still making their feeling known to Bob Nutting

For all the speeches about “urgency” and “getting back on track,” Pirates owner Bob Nutting can’t escape the one opponent he’ll never beat: His own fan base. Pittsburgh has long mastered the art of discontent, and the Derek Shelton firing only sharpened their voice. While the front office sells optimism, the stands keep delivering sarcasm. In the end, it’s not Shelton plotting revenge—it’s Pirates fans holding Nutting to account.

Pirates fans have grown restless after years of uninspiring rosters and Bob Nutting’s stubborn thrift. They are frustrated because ownership refuses to invest in talent despite Paul Skenes’ emerging stardom. This refusal feels like a betrayal of a loyal fanbase that craves competitive baseball. The result has been a swelling movement demanding change, louder and more creative with each passing month.

The protests have spilled directly into PNC Park, where fans showcase clever, biting messages during games. One fan tricked the Jumbotron recently by flashing “I flew 23 hours to be here.” Seconds later, she flipped it to reveal “Hey Bob, sell the team!” in bold letters. From chants and t-shirts to billboards and flyovers, the revolt hasn’t stopped.

These frustrations have gained legitimacy as national voices join the chorus against Nutting’s approach.

ESPN’s Pat McAfee and Jeff Passan argue he’s “wasting a golden opportunity” with Skenes. They believe spending on a competitive offense is essential for Pittsburgh’s baseball revival and relevance. Fans now enter the stadium not only to cheer, but to voice defiance against ownership.

The Pittsburgh Pirates fans aren’t just restless—they’re relentless, and Bob Nutting can’t market his way out. The same creativity that fooled a Jumbotron will keep hounding ownership long after Shelton’s firing fades. With Paul Skenes proving a star worth building around, the investment demand only grows sharper. Until Nutting spends or sells, Pittsburgh’s most consistent product won’t be wins—it’ll be protest, loud enough to echo beyond PNC Park.