At the close of business Sept. 4, the Braves were tied with Milwaukee for the second wild card, 1 1/2 games ahead of Pittsburgh. On Tuesday night, the Pirates clinched a playoff berth at Turner Field with a 3-2 victory that put them 10 games ahead of the Braves.

In 19 days, Pittsburgh turned around 11 1/2 games. That’s almost impossible to do, assuming both teams are trying. But in a September that has seen these Braves go 4-16, does that assumption hold? How can a team that compiled a winning percentage of .526 over the season’s first five months play .200 ball in the month that matters most?

On Thursday the Braves will stage the final home game of their most disappointing season in a generation. After winning 94 games in 2012 and 96 and the National League East in 2013, this team held first place for 86 days and was positioned to make the playoffs even after being no-hit by four Phillies on Labor Day. That team won’t finish above .500.

At the news conference held in the wake of general manager Frank Wren’s firing, Braves president John Schuerholz was asked if the team had quit. “I don’t think anybody in this room who knows anything about baseball would use the word ‘quit,’” Schuerholz harrumphed. Then: “(Players) have personal pride, professional pride, organizational pride. I don’t think anybody ever quits in a baseball game.”

I’ve been conditioned to believe that professional athletes are just that — professionals who seek to do a day’s work for a day’s pay. Not being a mind reader, I’m usually reluctant even to suggest that a team or a player has bagged it. But can we really believe that 4-16 reflects maximum effort?

“When you’re worried about a lot of things — worried about winning games, worried about scoring runs — it’s harder to let the game come to you,” Jason Heyward said Wednesday, trying to explain the inexplicable.”And we’ve got some young guys who’ve come up and have been asked to fill roles in a pennant race.”

He meant catcher Christian Bethancourt and infielder Phil Gosselin. Still, the other six members of the Braves’ everyday eight have all had playoff experience. It’s true that, until rosters expanded in September, this was the second-youngest roster (behind Houston) in the majors. But why did youth wait until the regular season’s final month to rear its head?

About effort, Heyward said: “I can only speak for myself — I play hard and have fun. That’s why you see me on the field now after hurting my thumb.”

Then this: “You can question effort, but things need to gel. You can have talent, but a team needs to be able to gel. … I don’t think we’ve been able to do that because of a lack of experience.”

Manager Fredi Gonzalez, whose job it is to motivate, called 4-16 the sole function (or dysfunction) of not hitting. “Collectively we haven’t done it,” he said. “You scratch your head.”

Have his men spit the proverbial bit? “Not at all. These guys are professional baseball players.” Then, in a bit of a concession: “When you don’t score runs and you’re not running the bases, it might look that way.”

The 2014 Braves have wasted one of the finest seasons of starting pitching this pitching-rich franchise has known. Even on a homestand that had, as of Wednesday afternoon, seen the Braves lose six of seven games and get shut out three times, this rotation had worked five quality starts.

On Sunday, Ervin Santana said it’s hard to pitch “knowing you have to work a complete-game shutout or something.” On Monday, Aaron Harang yielded one run and lost. Over the first 71 innings of this homestand, the Braves scored in six. Their one victory came when Washington, which clinched the division the night before, rolled out its B-team. Over eight September days, Turner Field saw more opposing champagne celebrations than Braves victories.

I know these are pros. I don’t think they’ve stopped trying to hit and catch the ball. I do think they’ve stopped believing it will much matter. Having monitored the Braves for 31 seasons, I’ve never seen such a shameful month.