Pittsburgh Pirates: Why I Need the Pirates to Succeed This Year

My dad was never in a foreign war.

He wasn't in Vietnam. He wasn't in Iraq. He wasn't in any kind of war that took him overseas. 

But for the last 20 years, he's been in a certain kind of war. He's been in a war with the Pittsburgh Pirates.

I was four years old when Sid Bream (I've been told a million times, he used to be on the Pirates) slid home safe to lift the Braves over the Pirates in the 1992 National League Championship Series. I don't remember it very well—I believe I was too busy worrying about not messing up my shorts.

But for two long—long—decades, my dad has suffered. He lived through the "We Are Family," years, the Doug Drabek years, he's suffered through the Al Martin years, he's even suffered through the Kip Wells years—which, I can imagine, was only like getting bamboo stuck under your fingernails.

That is why, while my disinterest in the MLB (and my favorite team, the *sigh* Red Sox) grows, my interest in the Pirates has suddenly grown. I know about Pedro Alvarez. I know about Neil Walker (who most would believe is an astronaut). I know about the zombie of A.J. Burnett. 

Why?

Because it's a story about belief. It's a story about loyalty. It's a story about somebody telling you, "It's going to be alright," and you actually believing it. 

There are certain things that go past the realm of sports. Most of the MLB (with the capitalism of the salary cap) know that many of the teams won't be in contention at the first pitch of Opening Day.

This is about a city that prides itself in rolling up its sleeves and doing the hard work, and right now (knocking on every piece of wood in my apartment) they have a baseball team in first place. 

It's confusing, in a way. The city with the most beautiful park in the league (I've been there, and words can't explain its beauty) has been home to the laughingstock of the league. Any sports joke ends with the punch line "...the Pirates!"

But I don't want the Pirates to continue to win for the sake of the city. I'm sorry to the more than 2 million people who live there whose wardrobe is only black and yellow. But I want the Pirates the win for a relatively selfish reason. 

I want them to win for my dad.