For one shining moment yesterday, it seemed like old times at PNC Park. There was Jack Wilson, slashing a double inside first base in the 10th inning with the score tied, then racing home with the deciding run in the Pirates' 3-2 win against the first-place Florida Marlins. He never stopped at home plate, instead turning and sprinting to first base where he bear-hugged Freddy Sanchez, who had delivered the winning hit.

It was the type of performance that made the Pirates go way out of character last winter when they reached deep and rewarded Wilson with a multiyear contract for, at least by their chintzy standards, big money.

It was the type of exuberance that made Wilson such a favorite with Pirates fans, many of whom believe the team wouldn't be a yearly joke if it had more players with his energy and passion.

It also was ridiculously overdue.

This season has been a nightmare for Wilson. He might have hit bottom last week when he spoke publicly about feeling weak and being unable to play his best, the lingering effects of an offseason appendectomy. That looked, sounded and had the horrible smell of an excuse. It's pretty obvious Lloyd McClendon believes there's nothing wrong with Wilson. He keeps playing him every day. It's just as obvious the team's medical people have cleared Wilson. They allow McClendon to play him every day.

There are few things worse in the big leagues than being a .206 hitter. Being known as an excuse-maker is one.

"I know it sounds like an excuse, but it's not," Wilson insisted. "Anyone who knows me knows I don't make excuses."

But Wilson spoke for the next several minutes about how his surgery kept him from working out during the winter. "Ninety percent of your strength comes from the offseason. I know I need two months. I had nothing. I've been going out there on empty."

Wilson then talked of being too dumb to realize he needed to make changes in his in-season conditioning program. This week, he will start hitting the weight room four or five times a week instead of his normal twice-a-week sessions. "That's my fault for not doing it sooner. I blame myself. If you blame yourself, you're not making excuses, right?"

Uh, not necessarily.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything or maybe I didn't phrase it right," Wilson said. "I just meant it as an informational thing for the fans. They and I have always been great with each other. I wanted them to know what was going on."

At that moment, several things seemed clear.

Wilson is afraid of failure. He's afraid of not living up to that two-year, $8 million contract. He's afraid of letting down his teammates. He's afraid of letting down Pirates management, which built its season marketing campaign around his voracious appetite for scorchers, liners and frozen ropes. He's afraid of letting down the fans. And -- this shouldn't be underestimated -- he's afraid of being booed.

That's not exactly the kind of mental toughness you like to see from your shortstop.

That's also the one thing that could derail Wilson and a career that seemed so promising last season.

Wilson has the ability to be a winning player. He didn't get 201 hits last season and bat .308 and make the All-Star team and play the best shortstop in the National League by accident. He might not hit .300 again, but he's not a .206 hitter, either.

That means there's no reason for Wilson to be so insecure. So what if he's criticized in the papers and on the talk shows. That goes with the neighborhood he moved into when he signed that big contract. So what if he's booed. Better athletes have been booed in this town for a long time.

"I'm tougher on myself than anyone," Wilson said. "If it comes to that, I won't even hear the boos because I'll be booing myself."

Wilson didn't sound so convincing.

At this point, you have to wonder if he'd cry.

Hopefully, it won't come to that. It's nice to think that yesterday will be the start of something positive for Wilson. Certainly, he caught a few breaks.

Wilson should have hit into an inning-ending double play in the eighth inning, but Marlins shortstop Alex Gonzalez dropped the throw from second baseman Luis Castillo, allowing the tying run to score. He got lucky again in the 10th when, with two outs and no one on, the Marlins -- almost unbelievably -- had first baseman Carlos Delgado playing off the line. If McClendon had ordered that strategy in the top of the inning, people would have wanted to run him out of town.

But give Wilson credit for finding the hole with his double. At least on this day, he could feel as much a part of a nice win as Sanchez or starting pitcher Mark Redman or reliever Rick White.

"This is not going to last forever," Wilson said of his tough times. "With this new workout regiment, I'm going to get stronger and turn things around. I have to think that way. I'm going to keep working my tail off until it happens."

That's all anyone can ask of Wilson.

That and one more thing, of course.

No more excuses. Please.