OAKLAND, Calif. -- Why has Oakland won 296 games the past three years without winning a single postseason series? Because as good as the pitchers are, as shrewd a general manager as Billy Beane is, as many MVP candidates as the team develops, when the Athletics reach the playoffs they suddenly turn into the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, becoming as sloppy and disheveled as Nick Nolte's hair.

Two years ago they lost the fifth and deciding game of the Division Series when they misjudged flyballs and allowed six runs in the first inning. Last year, they blew a 2-0 series lead in part because Jeremy Giambi forgot to slide and because they played poorly in the fifth and final game. And this year they lost again with another poor playoff performance. They dropped two popups, crashed into each other and tossed a pitch to first base instead of home plate -- and that was in a game they won. They played even worse in their Game 4 loss when they allowed seven runs, threw two wild pitches, made two errors and hit a batter -- in one inning.

	The A's look on at yet another defeat in the postseason.

Kids, do not try this at home.

Oh, the Athletics played pretty well in Sunday's 5-4 season-ending loss -- until the final, crucial at-bat. After rallying for three runs off Minnesota closer Eddie Guardado to close the gap to one run, Oakland had two outs and the tying run on first base when Ray Durham came up to bat with the game on the line.

Only it wasn't Durham who walked up to the plate. It was catcher Greg Myers, who was supposed to bat in the second spot behind Durham, not before him.

"I didn't see anybody on deck, so I just took off,'' said Myers, who had entered the game in the top of the ninth inning in place of catcher Ramon Hernandez in the field and in place of Adam Piatt in the lineup. "I might have jumped ahead and he might have seen me and figured he was behind me.''

"With all the moves we made I figured he was hitting in place of Ramon and that's why he was up there,'' Durham said. "There was a little mixup there.''

"Evidently,'' manager Art Howe said, "Myers didn't check out the lineup card.''

The Oakland bench noticed the mixup before Myers could reach the batters box and yelled at him to come back. He did and Durham raced to the plate to bat, then hit a foul popup down the right-field line that ended the game.

"(I didn't bat out of turn), so it's not that big a deal,'' Myers said. "If I went up there and took a swing, it would have been different.''

No, it was a big deal. In the last inning of a win-or-go-home playoff game, with two outs and the tying run on base, with the entire season riding on one at-bat, the Athletics nearly batted out of order. Durham, who had been playing the entire game, simply sat in the dugout while Myers swung the bat in the on-deck circle in his place for an entire at-bat. And with the game on the line, Durham had to rush to the plate and step in quickly against the closer who led the league in saves.

Not to imply Oakland wasn't fully prepared or anything, but how come this sort of thing never happens to the Yankees?

	“	Losing is harder this year than the last two. We expected more out of this team. ”
		— Mark Mulder, A's pitcher

Oakland is one of baseball's great, inspiring stories. Despite playing in a stadium built in the '60s, despite annually playing with one of the game's lowest payrolls, despite being mentioned as one of the backup bodies for Bud Selig's contraction plan, the Athletics still have averaged winning nearly 100 games a season the past three years, winning two division titles and reaching the playoffs each fall. They developed the MVP in 2000 (Jason Giambi) and may have the MVP (Miguel Tejada) and the Cy Young (Barry Zito) this year. They won 20 games in a row this summer, the longest winning streak in American League history.

Yet they have failed to last more than a week in the postseason.

"To come so close -- especially after last year,'' infielder Randy Velarde said, leaving the thought unfinished. "We came into spring training this year and felt very confident we could do something special. We felt confident with our pitching.''

Great pitching is enough to win a division title. It isn't enough to win in the postseason when you field poorly and your MVP candidate shortstop has a terrible series (Tejada hit .143 with an error). And when you don't get good pitching -- Tim Hudson had two poor starts -- all that is disastrous.

"Losing is harder this year than the last two,'' Mulder said after holding the Twins to two runs in seven innings while pitching on three days' rest. "We expected more out of this team.''

So did many others when Oakland shrugged off another poor start to the season, then roared through the final four months. Instead, the Athletics did exactly the same thing as they had before. Oakland lost to the richest team in baseball in 2000 and 2001. They lost to one of the poorest this year. Rich or poor. It hasn't mattered. The Athletics lost all three years, desite being one victory away each time.

"Don't remind me,'' Howe said. "I am not looking forward to the offseason thinking about it, but it's better being there having a chance to win than being home when the season is over. We will find a way to get it done.''

Jim Caple is a senior writer for ESPN.com.