The Buc Starts Here

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.

Home of the Buccos

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."

Breaking The Mold

So it's almost been a quarter of a century that I've been kickin' it on this planet and I've learned two solid facts.  Life is a funny thing and the world is a funny place.  I currently find myself at one of those proverbial forks in the road, and it has recently led me to take a step back and just stare for a little bit.

Life is funny because it is totally unpredictable.  Like the weatherman predicting rain for this entire week only to have the sun beam beautifully every day, you can have expectations or even "sure things" planned in your life, but it really only takes one second to change it all.  Even right now, before I finish this post, my phone could ring with great news about x, y, or z and I would be on top of the world; or it could ring with bad news about the health of a family member and I would be devastated beyond reason.  Between the moment the phone rings, and the moment that I actually hear the news, my entire life could be changed.  And that is why life is funny - because the only way to figure it out is to live it.

The world is funny because the world doesn't know what it wants.  If the world was a man, I would describe him as hypocritical, indecisive, or dramatic.  I think of two phrases here, "less is more" and "silence is golden."  In recent years these phrases have helped me to bite my tongue more often than not, and I'm glad for that.  I have realized that you add more value to what you say, based on the infrequency with which you say it.  Like paper flyers used as advertisements, anything that is too frequent becomes routinely tuned out.  I've also come to believe that you should not proclaim things that have not yet come to you.  Again, less is more and silence is golden.  Not to go biblical on you guys, but there is a gospel passage where Jesus tells us that when arriving to a table with two seats open, leave the one to His right side open, and sit in the seat at the far end of the table.  Better to sit at the far end and be called to the Lord's right side, than to sit near the head of the table and be told that you are in the wrong chair.  Ok, I'm done with analogies, I think you get the concept by now.  My point is that I don't think the world plays by these rules.  The world thinks that any time he has something on his mind he can say it, without reservation.  The world is a flake.  He sets these standards and expectations, he tells us to abide by a cultural code and how there is a common path we all need to travel.  But then he also encourages us to walk off the beaten path, and define our own destiny.  The world has no concrete values, he changes them based on each and every situation, to the extent that if we as people rely on the world, we are stashing money in a bottomless pocket.  And that is why the world is funny - because he is the first to talk, but the last to act.

Another thing that is funny to me is how as I've gotten older, I've started to place more value in the meaning of Disney movies.  For instance, I'm pretty confident that as we age, we all can understand pretty well why Peter Pan doesn't want to leave Neverland.  Who would want to leave Neverland?  Simply put, Neverland is the shit.  To leave is to become part of the world, part of a system, part of the man that always talks but never acts.  My intent here is not to exaggerate, because I know that there are countless men and women who are more than happy with their lives, who are successful, and who have great families.  That being said though, there's nothing quite like Neverland - there's really no rules, no stress, and no settling for less.

I firmly believe that the world has norms because he is insecure.  We create standards as a society because we are too afraid to make our own decisions.  Then, we get so accustomed to those norms that life carries on as plainly and complacently as Pleasantville.  It is at that point when the world changes his mind, and he tells us to be different.  He tells us to fill ourselves with color among this world of black and white.  He tells us that we should be breaking the mold.

The truth is, I agree with the world on this point.  We should be breaking the mold, because that is truly how evolution is implemented.  One generation uses the norms of the previous generation as a foundation to building their own brand new norms.  That is how animals and bacteria evolve, so why not us?  Well there is a significant problem with the evolution of humans - the ego.  Animals and bacteria can evolve easily because it seems to be a purely natural process rooted in biology.  Our evolution as a species is rooted more in our intellect than anything else, so our emotions naturally become involved.  The most keen observation I've made in my life is that more often than not, the people who walked the road before us don't like it when we try to walk further than them, because if they couldn't do it, why should we be able to?  And so that brings us back to Pleasantville, where everything is black and white, and life is the way it's always been.

The core issue here is that most of us have lost the ability or awareness to break the mold.  I think for that to change, we need to learn how to break our own personal molds before we worry about the societal ones.  That brings me back to my fork in the road - a fork that I'm sure people graduating from any level of education (or life for that matter) face more often than not.  The fork of "where do I go from here?"  There could be two paths in front of you, or there could be 20; so how do you choose?  We receive all types of influence while staring down the fork in the road - influence from friends, family, mentors, and the world himself.  The world tells us to dream, but not too big; to challenge ourselves, but not beyond reason; to avoid paths that are too safe, but also ones that are too risky; and to do something we love, but only if we get paid well for it.

I'm starting to believe that the world wants us to be "different" then the norm, but only the type of "different" that exists within the norm.  And if we want to be more than permissibly different, the world tells us that it can't be done because it hasn't been done that way before.  What it comes down to is that I think we have lost track of what it truly means to be a pioneer.  The people who created the acceptable form of today's "different" were making it up as they went, probably to the tune of many nay-sayers.  So what is the bigger challenge for today's emerging adults?  Is the true test the one that has you travel a direction that you've never walked before?  Or is it the one that has you find out if you have what it takes to master one path before jumping to another?

Maybe, just maybe, the boldest step to be taken by anyone at a fork in the road is to walk down the path that you can hear calling your name.  And to others, this path may be too safe, too dangerous, too plain, or too complicated; but that's why they get to choose their own paths as well.  The people who we look to for guidance and wisdom got to where they are because they followed the wind down the path that they knew was for them.  So perhaps it's helpful to gauge what our mentors might see; but at the end of the day the best way to truly break the mold society has placed us in, is to face our paths on our own, listen for the wind, and simply start walking.