{image1}Let's play an age-old game, as trite as it may be.

Imagine it's April 4, the day before the Brewers will open their 2004 season in St. Louis. You're offered a glimpse four months into the future. I don't know how -- maybe you run into Michael J. Fox and he offers you a ride in his DeLorean. But somehow, someway, you're able to glimpse the MLB standings as of Tuesday morning, Aug. 10.

You see Milwaukee's record. 52-58. Are you disappointed or satisfied? Ambivalent or optimistic? Surprised or annoyed?

In other words, do we judge a badly deteriorating Milwaukee season through the prism of its preseason outlook? Or do we judge the season by its incremental progress -- from April to May to June and on through September?

To play the game again, most of us would have been more than happy with a 45-41 record at the All-Star break ... had we been informed of it on April Fool's Day. But because the Brewers arrived at that mark only after blowing a 5-0 first-inning lead on the first half's final Sunday, at that moment, it felt like the joke was on us.

So, has it been a good or a bad season at Miller Park?

If you think it has been good, my question is this: should fans (or the team, for that matter) be satisfied with mediocrity? If you believe it hasn't necessarily been good, but it has been necessary, I would tend to agree. But if the team's current struggles last much longer, 2004 will simply be another in a string of bad baseball seasons in Wisconsin. Eighty-six games do not a season make.

The argument that this has been a good season necessarily utilizes our April 4 scenario. Certainly no one, especially after the team traded its primary offensive weapon, could have foreseen the Brewers being within six games of .500 on Aug. 9. And how about the pitching? Did anyone envision Doug Davis and Victor Santos winning 17 combined games by the All-Star break? Or Ben Sheets and Dan Kolb each making the National League squad?

Granted, the pitching has been a very pleasant surprise, though it's buckled along with the rest of the team in the last three weeks. And Sheets has taken another step toward reaching his vast promise this year. Despite plenty of tough luck, he has to rank among the top three or four pitchers in the NL.

But being satisfied with a sub-.500 season at this point is akin to being happy with a Packers loss at the Metrodome simply because they led at halftime. In reality, doesn't that make it even worse? Didn't inhaling the heavy air at seven games over .500 actually make the subsequent losing even more difficult to swallow?

For me, at least, it does. And no doubt it does for Ned Yost and the Brewers, too.

Objectively, of course, 2004 has been better than 2003. The Brewers have taken another step in a long-term growth curve. For instance, they now know they have the makings of a quality, playoff-worthy pitching staff (I said "the makings of"...) -- if they add to the base that Sheets, Davis, Kolb, Mike Adams, Chris Capuano and perhaps Santos provide. And Lyle Overbay is a legitimate big-league hitter, and perhaps a very good one.

But the ultimate test of 162 games has exposed the team's inherent flaws. Are Scott Podsednik and Geoff Jenkins good enough players to lead an offense in the league's best division? Are Chad Moeller and Gary Bennett really better than any of the middling catcher tandems the team has relied on since Ted Simmons last strapped on the tools? Is the defense this bad? And how far can the Brewers get with guys like Brady Clark, Ben Grieve and Wes Helms playing pivotal roles?

The last answer is "not very." Here, of course, there is no surprise. So we return to April 4. With a tiny payroll, almost no proven pitching and a collection of new faces in lieu of Richie Sexson, how much did we possibly expect the Brewers to accomplish? Seen in that light, 52 wins in 110 games sounds about right.

Now, should we be satisfied with that? I guess that depends on who's answering the question.