Pittsburgh Pirates: Reality Check—Bucs Baseball Isn't About Winning Anymore

Truthfully, it hasn’t been about winning since October 14, 1992—we just didn’t realize it at the time. On this day the Pittsburgh Pirates, with their rich history, championships and four seasons of National League dominance were dealt a fatal blow by Francisco Cabrera’s pinch hit in the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 7 of the National League Championship Series against the dreaded Atlanta Braves. 

For the once proud and thriving franchise, the moment featured all the key elements of a classic tragedy—a squandered lead, the star player failing to come up big when it mattered most, and resounding defeat at the hands of a familiar nemesis. Sid Bream slid into home before Barry Bonds’ throw could get there and the table was set.

Following the loss, cornerstone players Bonds and Doug Drabek were allowed to walk away as free agents—deemed too expensive by the front office.

In 1996, Kevin McClatchy bought the team and immediately instituted a fire sale of the rest of the team’s talent. This prompted the architect of their recent success, manager Jim Leyland, to walk away in frustration after the 1996 season. 

However, if there’s defining moment in the descent of the franchise since the 1992 NLCS, it has to be the 2003 season. This was when the front office crushed any hope that it had a viable long-term plan and revealed its true cynicism. 

Prior to the start of that season, I distinctly remember a conversation with a friend about the acquisition of free agents Kenny Lofton and Reggie Sanders and what a great move it was for the Buccos. We both agreed—this was absolutely going to be the year they finally turn things around. This was their third season playing in PNC Park; the toast of Major League Baseball and shining beacon indicative of the success to come. 

Maybe—just maybe—all of the years of maneuvering really were necessary to build the team’s core and now, with the addition of Lofton and Sanders, it was time, not to just break that streak–it was time to make an actual pennant run for the first time in 11 years.

Cut to July 2003. Sitting at eight games under .500, the Pirates were underperforming as usual, and Randall Simon was dealing with fallout from the infamous "Sausage race incident." In retrospect, the writing was on the wall but my 22-year-old self didn’t see the situation as hopeless. I clung to my blind optimism until July 23 when the Pirates dropped the big one.

Kenny Lofton, Aramis Ramirez and a pile of money traded to the Chicago Cubs for some minor league garbage—Simon, of sausage assault fame, was traded to the Cubs a month later for some more minor league garbage.

That was it for me. Never again would I invest anything beyond an afternoon of fun at the ballpark into that team.

I officially quit them in August of 2003—it was clear that no one in the organization was serious about even fielding a competitive team, much less building a contender.  My decision was validated when the Pirates dumped all-stars Jason Bay in 2008 and Freddy Sanchez in 2009, receiving almost nothing of value in return.

Now when I want to get excited about baseball in August or September, I go to my local Red Sox bar in D.C. and yell about the Yankees. 

Thankfully, the City of Champions is filled with more dedicated baseball fans, many of whom have the same enthusiasm today as they did in 1993. I respect their commitment, their enthusiasm and their passion—but not their blind optimism.  

Much like the fans that drive me crazy today, I was the eternally optimistic Pirates fan, convinced that we (the Pirates, the fans, and my precious city) were only one or two seasons away from snapping the embarrassing losing season streak and restoring the honor of the once proud franchise—much like the delusional fans that drive me crazy today. 

Surely, I thought, ownership was trying to put a competitive team on the field—after all, doesn’t Major League Baseball benefit more from competition than from perennial bottom-dwellers? 

In a word: no.

The stark reality is that every organization in the MLB, including the Pirates’ ownership, benefits financially when teams like the Bucs embarrass themselves. League bottom-feeders serve an important role in padding the records of the league money-makers and, in return, they are rewarded with millions via revenue sharing. 

In August 2010 internal MLB documents were leaked that confirmed the sad truth, which is that the Pirates already have a winning business model and winning games and spending money on salary will, ultimately, cost more money than it will bring in. 

Sports journalists have to pay the bills, and optimism sells and ensures access to the team—so every spring we’re going to read about how (fill in the blank) could make the difference this year, and every fall we’re going to read about how (fill in the blank) disappointed this year but that the team is young and poised for a breakout next year.

The streak of consecutive losing seasons is currently at 18 and there is no reason to believe it won’t reach 20, 25 or even 30.  In fact, I implore someone to put forth a compelling argument that refutes this. It’s time to accept that, while mathematical odds dictate that eventually the most embarrassing streak in the history of pro sports will ultimately be snapped, Pittsburgh Pirates baseball simply isn’t about winning championships anymore. 

It’s about the tradition of taking your kids to the ballpark in the summer to get a Matt Morris bobble-head. It’s about having afternoon beers with your friends at one of the most beautiful baseball parks in the world; enjoying the atmosphere, the view of the Pittsburgh skyline and the convergence of the three rivers. It’s about watching fireworks after another late-summer defeat and reminiscing about the past glories of this once proud franchise.   

The silver lining is that Pittsburgh is home to the premier franchises in the NFL and NHL both of which have brought championships to the city in recent years, so even if this streak never ends…

There are certainly worse things in the world. 

Right, Browns fans?