This might not be the piece that you're looking for. In fact, if you've become accustomed to the sports-talk of our time, it's probably not. This piece is not going to speculate, criticize, lecture, or know better than anyone else. This piece will not talk about what the Pirates have done. It will not talk about what the Pirates might do or should do. This piece will not talk about who the Pirates were, who they could be, or who they should be. Plain and simple, because there is not enough focus on just this one thing, this piece will talk about what the Pittsburgh Pirates are doing.
I've started to notice it; in these last few months. It's only my second season working for the team, but something was different. I used to be the only bicycle on the rack outside the stadium; but I suddenly found myself hoping to get a spot. Hoping for a parking spot...on a bike...are you kidding me? No I'm not, it's really been that full. I remember last season, going out to sling t-shirts on a weeknight, and making jokes about how we could give out two to each fan in attendance. Not anymore. Now you can sling in any direction you want because on a Tuesday night there's over 26,000 fans hoping to grab one of the 20 shirts that we give away.
I remember leaving the stadium after working a game during the '10 season and having the Clemente Bridge all to myself as I biked back across the river. Last night, for the first time ever, I had to take the Warhol Bridge because Roberto's route had more traffic than the Fort Pitt and Squirrel Hill tunnels combined. I remember that as employees we could request tickets almost any night that we wanted because "the Pirates don't sell out, except for Opening Day." Hah, not anymore...and what a good problem to have. I remember that when we got assigned to raise the Jolly Roger, it meant being stuck at the stadium till the end of the game to see if the Bucs could mount a miraculous comeback. Now if you get the job of "flag" it means you get to hang around to watch the latest edition of "Hammer Time," and then elevate the skull and crossbones on Greg Brown's cue.
In what's said to be a "football town," who just a year ago was talking non-stop about the outcome of the adolescent behavior of their quarterback; there's been no talk of pigskin around these parts lately. Even with the NFL strike providing plenty of potential storylines, mum has been the word. Truth is, this summer there are more important things going on then football speculation, it's called baseball season. Around here they call it "Bucco Fever," but I call it hope, because I've felt it before and I know what it looks like.
I'd love to be able to claim that I am a lifetime or die-hard Bucco fan, but that wouldn't be fair to the people who have truly earned those distinctions. I myself happen to be a Florida Marlins fan, and that is why I know what all this "hope" looks like. I've been a fish fan since I was in 1st grade, when they joined the league in '93, and growing up in New York it was no easy task as I was the butt of many jokes. The Marlins were an eye-sore more often than not, but they sure had their moments of hope and glory. Winning it all in '97 was a semi-underdog story, but that team was pretty well built with a nice size price tag. It was in '03 that they truly shocked the world. I remember bits and pieces from that summer, when I started to hope. It was twice that bench player, Mike Mordecai, hit a game-winning homer in extra innings. And then in another game when the pinch hit king, Lenny Harris, roped a hit off of the then-dominant Eric Gagne to spark a come-from-behind win. It was the little moments like that, that you won't read about in Sports Illustrated or see on ESPN that gave me hope. I remember when it got to September of the '03 season and all of a sudden the Marlins would be televised nationally twice a week, and they'd always make it into the first 10 minutes of SportsCenter, sometimes as the lead story. I remember having mixed emotions, being ecstatic that the team I always loved was finally getting attention, but bitter about the people who all of a sudden were cramming their way onto my bandwagon.
It was shortly after the Marlins won it all on '03 that I started to follow other teams around the league more consistently. Naturally, I chose to keep my eye on the underdogs...I guess I felt for them, and wanted to see them succeed. One of those teams was the Pirates. I started tracking their progress my freshmen year of college ('06), identifying favorite players like Chris Duffy, Ronny Paulino, and Mike Gonzalez. Sure enough, now a few years later, I find myself in Pittsburgh not only rooting for, but working for the team that had played 100 seasons by time I was born. And as I spend more time at the park, I recognize the ever-present hope that I myself experienced in 2003.
Again, this piece is not going to talk about what might happen though, and if you think I'm speculating about the Bucs winning the World Series, please do not let me confuse you. My point is that when an underdog gets hot and people start jumping on the bandwagon (cough cough, John Kruk, who is an obvious Phillies fan) it's easy to start wanting more. And I've witnessed it around the park - trade speculations, playoff speculations, optimism, pessimism, etc.
I wrote this piece to say lets stop worrying about how bad the Bucs have been in the past, or how great they might be in the future, and just enjoy the fact that they are playing some inspired ball, right here, right now, in the present. What a gift to a city that so adores their sports teams.
And so what if it doesn't last forever. Some analysts are already speculating about when the demise might come, when they might fall out of it, or cool off. There's really no need to look ahead at the schedule, because the Bucs have been doing great one night at a time. And even if they fell out of the race, they could hold their heads high, because we know it wouldn't have been for a lack of effort. I mean wow, what a summer that they've given to the fans so far.
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Although I won't speculate, I will note some facts. I know that like those aforementioned Marlins moments, the Bucs have had a few of their own this summer - from a late-inning McKenry homerun to a Josh Harrison bare-handed scoop at the hot corner, these kids are giving this town a reason to hope. And if you think it's just the players you are dead wrong. When baseball magic starts to kick in, there are several factors at play. It takes a lot of things being in the right place at the right time, but once the cycle gets going, it can be pretty special. First the team needs to matter enough to get fans in the seats. Then the fans inspire the players and give them something to play for. Next thing you know you've got a storybook summer. A winning baseball team doesn't need big salary players, famous names, or the biggest national fan base. They just need fans who can count on their players and players who are confident in themselves. All it takes is a glimmer of hope, which is what the Bucs have right now. And while that's good enough to enjoy, regardless of how the next 10 weeks go; it would be pretty special to see the Pittsburgh atmosphere transform from a city who is hoping, to a city who is believing.
What a treat for me. This franchise and fan base have endured 18 years of sub-500 seasons, and in only my second year living in the city, I get to see them make a run like they haven't made in close to two decades. I couldn't be more happy for them. This winter at the team's preseason event, PirateFest, I got a chance to spend some time talking to Jeff Karstens (RHP). The guy didn't have a big head, or glance past me as someone who wasn't worth his time; rather, he held a regular conversation and didn't seem at all concerned with getting somewhere else. Furthermore, earlier this season the team had a "photos with the fans" day, and I got to manage the line at the tent where Josh Harrison (IF), Garret Jones (OF,1B) and Jose Veras (RHP) were sitting. The three of them could not have been more kind to the fans, giving high-fives, making jokes, and staying past the deadline to take a few extra pictures. So I root for those guys when I see them out on the field, just as I root for their teammates who appeal to my underdog spirit.
And so, though I can't say I've endured 18 years of pain, or that I'm a Yinzer, or that I was raised on Primanti sandwiches - I can say that as a sports fan, being in this city at this time is something I'll never forget. And win or lose, hang in or fall out, no matter how the season ends, I'll continue to tip my hat towards that beautiful ballpark that lines the Allegheny and say, "let's go bucs."
