Having had the chance or should I say having endured the pain of watching the Reds up close and personal during their three-game series in San Diego, many thoughts, observations, suggestions, gripes and criticisms came to mind.

Say this for Cincy, they may be struggling, they may be totally in the tank but at least, they give you plenty to mull over. No need to worry about writer's block as long as the Reds are around. The storylines, though mostly negative, came fast and furious and were nothing if not plentiful.

What follows are some impressions about Cincinnati's personnel and the general state of affairs concerning this current last-place and moribund team.

As Aaron Harang strode down to the bullpen prior to his start on Tuesday, he wore a grim and somber expression like a man headed to own execution. Or one who knew that he wasn't going to get much offensive support. Sure enough, Cincy's up and down lineup provided the ex- San Diego State product with but one lone run.

Yet, that would have been enough had not Harang stumbled on a attempted 8th-inning delivery and balked in the tying run. But instead of falling apart and allowing his gaffe to unnerve him, Harang bowed his neck and proceeded to extricate himself from any further damage. He then went out and pitched a clean 9th, mowing down the Padres in short order.

Harang's ability to confront adversity square in the face and stare it down was impressive. He didn't allow a bad break to cause him to lose focus. He showed true grit and plenty of moxie, qualities that you definitely want in a pitcher considered to be your ace.

One other note about Harang. He threw with gusto the entire game. He maintained his notable velocity, ranging anywhere from 90 to 94 on his heater, literally from start to finish. He never seem to labor. He had the look of a hurler with a storehouse of stamina and one who can pitch deep into games without losing much of his stuff.

I made a conscious effort to periodically checkout the Reds' dugout in order to get a reading on the team's emotional state. What I saw or more precisely, what I didn't see was disturbing and deflating.

Simply put, the Reds acted dead. There were no signs of any sort of passion or spark. It was as if everyone in the dugout had undergone a frontal lobotomy. A morgue would have been more lively. If you can't generate some degree of enthusiasm and emote a bit whether it's in the field or on the bench, you're beaten already. A more listless team I can't remember ever seeing. 

Josh Hamilton sure seems like the real deal. To begin with, the young outfielder is an impressive physical specimen. He's big, put together and appears to be exceptionally strong in the legs.

Speaking of which, Hamilton put his speed on display Tuesday when he hustled down the line and beat out two infield hits. The guy can really motor for a man his size. The 25-year old also moves with purpose and grace when he's tracking down flyballs. Here's an athlete who can get to the gaps and cover lots of real estate.

Moreover, Hamilton has a sweet and fluid stroke that's just oozing with power. If he can continue his amazing adaptation to life in the majors and should his rapid development proceed unabated, Hamilton could become a stud of a player. He already looks like one and soon he could be playing like one as well.

Adam Dunn looked all but done in against the Pads. He endured an atrocious series and that's being charitable. Aside from a broken bat run-producing single, the massive outfielder was a no-show. When he wasn't grounding into double plays, he was striking out repeatedly. Then, to top it off, Dunn committed a devastating error when he failed to scoop up Kevin Kouzmanoff's single to left. Dunn looked painfully awkward as he overran the ball and allowed it to get behind him, thereby permitting the Padres to score the tying run.  It was a huge miscue and was instrumental in an eventual 3-2 Reds' loss.

Though Dunn's average is up this year, he still continues to struggle with both his penchant for fanning and also with his inexcusable foibles in the field. Having watched him implode in San Diego, you can't help but wonder if the likable redhead will ever reach the ceiling that his potential suggests. Sadly, he may have already reached his peak.

If the Hall of Fame had a wing for how you hit in batting practice, first-sacker Scott Hatteberg would have a bust in there right now. Wow, can this guy rake in BP! Nearly everything he hits is ripped, line-shot darts that often split the gaps.

Hatteberg was so locked in during Wednesday's warm-ups that I remember thinking there's no way he doesn't carryover some of this splendid swinging into the game. So I was hardly surprised when Hatteberg spanked out a pair of solid hits when it counted.