Christmas has come and gone and Santa Claus is back at the North Pole for another year. Which means Pirates fan are keenly disappointed because once again they failed to get the gift they most wanted.

Some baseball fans would want a middle-of-the-lineup outfielder, who's recognized as one of the best players in the game, in their Christmas stocking. Not Pirates fans. They already had one of those, Brian Giles, and he didn't make enough difference.

Some baseball fans would want a hard-throwing, top-of-the-rotation, Cy Young candidate in their Christmas stocking. Not Pirates fans. They already had one of those, Jason Schmidt, and he made no difference at all.

Some baseball fans would want a young slugging third baseman, a player to build around, in their Christmas stocking. Not Pirates fans. They already had one of those, Aramis Ramirez, and he was given away.

No, what Pirates fans want for Christmas, this Christmas and every Christmas, is a new owner. The old one has worn out his welcome.

It's true. Kevin McClatchy, the one-time savior of baseball in Pittsburgh, has become the owner from hell. McClatchy is the anti-Midas. Everything he touches turns to . . . well, you get the idea.

He is the man who saved baseball in Pittsburgh, and that can never be taken away from him. But, if he wants to save it again, he should sell the team.

Not that there'd be a long line of billionaires waiting to lose part of their fortune by owning a small-market Major League Baseball franchise. But maybe there would be someone out there who'd be willing to take a chance. You never know until you put the team up for sale.

Indeed, just by putting the team on the market McClatchy would be making the first positive public relations statement by the Pirates this century.

That, however, will not happen. McClatchy is living a dream. So what if Pirates fans are living a nightmare.

He is one of 30 men in the world who belong to a very exclusive club: They have final authority with an MLB franchise. They don't play in a fantasy league, they play in National League and American League. They don't pretend to buy and sell and trade players. They really do it. They get to sit in on league meeting, decide the future course of the game and get some of the best seats for all games, including the World Series.

They also get to pay themselves outrageous salaries that the public never hears about.

So what if they might be losing some of their personal fortune. They'll get it all back and then some when they sell the team.

McClatchy took over a team with a long and sometimes proud history and a recent tradition of winning in 1996 and turned it into a perpetual loser. The Pirates have become a franchise that not only trades away its best players and accepts not nearly enough in return, but also one that allows some of its best young players to escape the organization.

McClatchy and Dave Littlefield, the general manager whose hands are tightly bound behind his back by his owner's incompetence, talk about all the good pitching prospects in the team's minor-league system. What they don't talk about is the near-absence of hitting prospects and their inability to pay those fine pitching prospects when -- and if -- their time come.

Certainly the trading of Ramirez, 25, to the Chicago Cubs, along with Kenny Lofton, and receiving utility infielder Bobby Hill in return says it all about the McClatchy regime. It says not only can't it pay its good young players, it's also not smart enough to determine that it won't be able to pay a contract in 2003 that was negotiated in 2002.

A year earlier, the Pirates traded Schmidt to San Francisco, where he blossomed into one of the best pitchers in baseball. Little more than a month after giving away Ramirez -- and handing the Cubs the Central Division championship in the process -- the Pirates traded Giles to San Diego.

But McClatchy is by no means through slashing his payroll and, in the process, turning the Pirates into the worst team in baseball. He's so desperate to unload Jason Kendall, once again the team's best player following the trading of Giles and Ramirez, that he'll pick up close to half the $42 million the team still owes Kendall. As soon as Kris Benson, another one of those great young prospects the team can't afford to pay, shows his arm is sound he, too, will be on his way out of town.

If the payroll is lowered enough, maybe the Pirates will turn a profit. Not that the public would ever hear about it.

Other small-market, down-and-out teams like Detroit, Tampa Bay and Montreal have attempted to upgrade their rosters this winter, despite drawing fewer fans than the Pirates. McClatchy has made no such moves. He's sitting back and waiting for bargain-basement free agents, players who just might not be there this season.

Oh, well, maybe next Christmas dreams will come true.