The Pirates: Be Patient - Part I

My brother Jim has done much to re-educate me regarding The Pittsburgh Pirates and I appreciate it. I have a lot of catching up to do.

In the years I was gainfully employed I was very busy and didn't have a clue what I was doing. I had to prioritize my life, and organize my time. This forced me to conclude neither the Pirates nor the eight track tape player were going to make a comeback.

Now I'm retired with a lot of time on my hands. I write a blog and also have begun to follow the Pirates again. It's a little bit like starring in a remake of a movie about Rip Van Winkle.

Please don't get me wrong. I very much admire the faith, knowledge, and wisdom that my brother, and my oldest son Bruce possess in their love for the Pirates. I suspect it's in our DNA as Mom & Dad loved their Bucs.

My problem is I'm new in my attempt to acquire continuing education credits. I'm also older, lack their patience, and root for the Pirates only because I'm a hopeless romantic.

My love for the Pirates goes back to the time in the 40's when my mom and I went to watch them at Forbes Field on Ladies Day. We travelled by streetcar and/or bus. We didn't always have good luck with our seating positions and often drew straws to see which of us would sit behind the pole. Yet, we valued those seats like they were today's Stadium Boxes.

No matter how bad we were losing, Mom refused to leave until she was sure Kiner wouldn't come up again in the bottom of the 9th. I mention all of this only so you will understand the vitriolic message that is about to follow.

I love watching the Bucs in Spring Training in Bradenton. I now realize this joy is like pre-marital counseling. It can't possibly prepare you for what's to follow.

My hope was the Buccos might regain their image as a Major League Baseball team. Unfortunately, I'm told that requires locating, signing, and developing talent, plus spending money in an intelligent fashion.

I'm aware that people with no real expertise in a particular business can sign on as a CEO and turn their new company around. However, to be successful as a baseball owner it is suggested that one's knowledge of the game should be more than having been a recipient of a Little League trophy for perfect attendance. Baseball is a whole new ballgame.

This job of team owner requires that you do not allow your GM to convince you a washed up pitcher is worth more than 5/6 million of your hard earned cash. It also requires you to be pro-active. You need to support your management team with constant personal attempts to convince both the media and the public you really are more interested in the fan's interest and satisfaction than you are in recouping losses caused by your earlier naivette. It's a real squeeze play and it may help if your father's name is Gipetto.

To accomplish your goal you must employ the same type of PR firm that convinced many people Barney Frank had nothing to do with the lax standards by which Wall Street robbed our kids of their inheritance.

Even then, you may not be successful. People are less trusting given what they have seen represented recently as Truth and Ethics.

I recently read a criticism of the Pirate's owner. The gist of the critique was that the owner was accused of being guilty of "taking from the rich, but, giving 'Nutting' to the poor". In this scenario, the rich were depicted as the other Major League owners who subsidize the Pirates. The poor were, of course, the Pittsburgh taxpayers and devoted fans who helped pay for the new stadium. They also include this writer, the "late to the party" critic.

Presumably these taxpaying fans thought a new stadium would allow them to attend future games where both teams were of major league quality. After all: new stadium, more revenue, more money to acquire good players.

TILT! Even a beautiful stadium, thought to be among the best in both leagues, cannot hide the truth about the Emperor's lack of satorial splendor. Where the money from the increased attendance went is up for grabs.

What makes it worse is that our Pirates who are housed in this beautiful stadium can't win against the other teams in a below standard division. Trust me. They ain't that good either. Yet we're paying major league prices to watch AAA team's compete. Most of our division opponents can only beat us and their minor leaguers are not a lot better than our minor leaguers.

My suggestion is to go back to what we did as kids. When we play these division clubs, bring all the eligible players out on the field before the game starts. Let the team captains take turns picking their teamates from this pool on a rotating basis. Regardless of uniform, whichever Captain's team scores the most runs at the end of the game get's the victory.

In this way we get to root for a whole different bunch of guys each night, & we don't have to let the kid play who was the only one with a new ball.

Now I grant you, this might not work with our players. Apparently many of them would be highly incensed if some of their friends were on the opposite team. They cling to those past friendships with a ferocity that would be more welcome if employed when they come up to bat with men in scoring position.

Hey, they're kids. But, the question is how did we revert to becoming a minor league team with minor league talent without Branch Rickey?

Well, you might start by looking at the combined strategy of the baseball commissioner, the Major League Player's Association, and the Major League Owners. When you do, you'll discover the reason there is little hope our Pirates are going to make a comeback anytime soon.

When you examine these three supposed independent entities you'll no doubt recall they're are all members of the unholy trinity that brought you the infamous "Sammy Sosa/Mark McGuire Home Run Derby".

A couple of years ago their spokesman, Bud (they're all males), came to you and asked: "Oh my, do you really think our ballplayers were taking drugs when they smashed all those sacred records, filled the ballparks with fans, and the pockets of the owners, players, and union coffers with cash?"

C'mon! You mean, up to this point, none of them were suspicious as to what was going into the mouth and veins of our idols? Ever hear of the three monkeys: Hear No Evil, See No Evil, and Speak No Evil?

What would be their motivation? What? You missed the Jerry McGuire movie? It's all about the money. They'll suffer both fools and the Pirates.

Finally Bud took action. He hired a former member of Congress to beat the bushes for the truth. Nice start. Unfortunately, he was surprised to find that George Mitchell was not the same as kindly actor, Thomas Mitchell, from the tear jerker movies in the 30's, 40's and 50's.

This guy not only wasn't seeking re-election, he truly thought Bud was serious. Now he was not given any subpoena power nor was he given a lot of lattitude apparently as to naming names. He was also given no sign his Mission Impossible had the support of "the other two monkeys".

It ended sort of the way we thought it might. We remain frustrated. Our goal was to receive information to answer the questions our kids and grandkids were asking us on the way to Little League practice.

Trust me. The 'out of the mouth of babes' questions were clearly more poignant and penetrating than the ones the owners and their management team had been asking the players. But, the kids didn't have to deal with the Union either.

Finally, Congress got involved. In case you've forgotten, that's the group of intelligent people who granted MLB the anti-trust exemption. They only threaten to withdraw this largesse when the pancake makeup is applied and they are assured that their best profile will be shown at the hearings.

You know this all could be a sequel to the Breslin book: "The Gang Who Couldn't Shoot Straight". Maybe Grisham has some spare time.

We, the fans, continue to wait until God comes down and reveals who did and who did not cheat. Then the media will know who to rightfully vote into the Hall of Fame, cause they don't seem to have a clue either. Perhaps, they're afraid of the Union, also.

To paraphrase comedian Johnathan Winters on one of his comedy albums, when they finally reach their conclusion: "We can sit around the campfire, throw the roast beef up in the air, and join Friar Tuck as he proclaims, "Robin's a friend. - Robin's a friend!"

To all involved, I advise: "If you choose to repeat the lie declaring that Baseball is America's pastime, please have the decency to emphasize the word "past". We allowed greed to ruin the sport we loved so much as kids and young adults. It's now time for all of us to sit down with the kids and grandkids and tell them the truth.

Chances are they can handle it much better than we can. If you're still waiting for God to resolve this for us I remind you the last time he got involved with baseball was when he sent the Angel down to Forbes Field to speak to Paul Douglas in the B-movie, "Angels In The Outfield". Don't look for a sequel.

That was a long time ago; maybe about the same time the Pirates started their rebuilding program.

Will I keep following the Pirates? You bet your boots. It's good conversation material for my brother and my kids. Besides, I still hide my upper plate under the pillow each evening with the firm belief the Tooth Fairy will reward me one of these nights, if I just remain patient.

One of these years we're going to do it, Mom. Hang in there.