A Goofy Night in Pittsburgh

By David Marasco

I can understand why they didn't sell out those playoff games. Those upper deck seats in the outfield probably aren't even good for football. We sat behind the plate in the mezzanine, but far enough back that the upper deck blocked out the sky. Baseball just isn't the same when you can't see the sky. There isn't too much you can say about Three Rivers outside of round, concrete and plastic grass. Losing Tiger Stadium was a blow to baseball, Three Rivers will be better off gone. We were here to witness that event, the last baseball game in the stadium.

Since we got there a little early I sat in the stands, ate hot dogs, and watched a video on the TV screen in front of me. The hot dogs were some of the best I've ever tasted. They need to bring the hot dogs to the new park. The video was highlights from the 1990 season. Two things caught my attention. The first is that the narrator mentioned that people were now talking about Barry Bonds in the same breath as Eric Davis. What a difference ten years makes! The other thing is that there was tobacco advertising all over the place in those days. It disappeared out of ballparks a few years ago, but I hadn't noticed until now.

The Cubs were in town, and they sent their B-team to the field. Yeah, it's a little weird to think of the Cubs having a B-team, but they only mainstays in their lineup were Sosa and Grace. As I was writing down the lineup I reflected that I might be seeing Grace's last game as a Cub. They have talent at first coming up in the farm system, and Grace might be asking too much for their budget. I'd keep Grace simply because he deserves at least some loyalty from a team he's served if not straight-out represented for so long. I guess we can ask Ewing what loyalty means in sports.

The National Anthem was sung by Sister Sledge, and they encored with We Are Family. The itself game was a wild one, won by the Cubs 10-9. The Bucs actually had runners on second and third with no outs in the bottom of the ninth, but could not convert. This was not one for the time capsule, the two squads were among the worst in baseball, and quite frankly, their play reflected it.

After the game they had a dance routine that can only be described as horrid. It was as if they were testing to see who had the willpower to stay for the rest of the celebrations. About fifty highschool kids did a "Salute to the 70's." If I didn't know better, I'd think that only white people lived during that decade. And isn't it a little silly to have highschoolers dance to 70's music? I mean, they weren't even alive then.

After the dance thing was mercifully over, they went to the video tape. Unlike Milwaukee's show that covered only highlights (the last baseball highlight was in 1992) the Pirates showed snippets of footage from every year in Three Rivers, with music from the proper era in the background. Then the voice of the Pirates was introduced and he got the rest of the proceedings on the road. He stumbled out of the gate though, thanking the fans for giving manager Jim Leyland a standing ovation prior to the game. The fans gave manager Gene Lamont a big hand, mainly because everyone knew that it was his last day on the job.

The Pirates dug up home plate and handed it to Rocketman for transfer to PNC Park. Who is Rocketman? He's some guy with a rocketpack on his back. No, it didn't evoke sacred memories, but let's face it, watching some guy press a button and then soar out of the stadium is pretty cool.

The Pirates then went through their version of bring out the heroes. They announced the names with the stats, but as they did this they played footage from the players' careers on the big screen. This was better than the Milwaukee experience in that it wasn't dry numbers, there were memories being evoked. I got a kick out of seeing many of the old Pirates, and was amazed at how skinny Rick Reushel is these days.

After they introduced the first twenty Pirate heroes, they took a break and introduced number twenty one. Twenty one, of course, was the number that Roberto Clemente used to wear. There was talk of bringing in Clemente's widow, or perhaps one of his sons. Instead they just introduced his name, the lack of a human amplifying our loss. Overall they Pirates tended more to silly than sappy, but this was a moving moment.

They continued to bring out Pirates of the past, and when they were done the current team filed out of the dugout to take the field with the Three Rivers greats. It was a nice touch, mixing the past with the present.

They then went to PNC Park, for the arrival of Rocketman. On the big screen a handful of people stared at the sky, awaiting home plate. After a few moments, Rocketman walked in on the right side of the screen and handed them the artifact. It was a classic misdirection, a play for laughs. It was almost as if the Pirates were making fun of the seriousness of the closing ceremonies at other parks and the Olympics. During the game they played the "clap for next inning's song" game. The first two choices were revealed as Boy George and Hanson. This got a scattering of boos. The third choice was Sister Sledge's We Are Family. The announcer mentioned that it just so happened to be last night's winner. There was a lot of self-parody on closing day. If the dancers weren't so damn awful, I'd think that perhaps they were part of the gag too.

This set up the last pitch in Three River Stadium. They went to the bullpen and got Kent Tekulve. Jason Kendall assumed his position behind the plate and Tekulve took the microphone to introduce the man who would throw out the final pitch - Willie Stargell. Willie slowly took the field. He's been on and off machines in the hospital and looks in really bad shape. In the late 1980's I saw him poke a monstrous home run in an old-timer's game in Oakland. Again, what a difference ten years makes. Willie needed help getting to the mound. At this point the Pirates, old and new, broke from their positions on the basepaths and converged upon Stargell, as if they knew this may be their last chance to see the Hall-of-Famer. For a while Jason Kendall stood apart, manning his position behind the plate. That was the picture that was worth a thousand words. All the Pirates were gathered around their past, preparing for the future. But Kendall, perhaps yet another free-agent lost, stood apart. After a long wait he too joined the crowd at the mound.

When order was restored Kendall set up fifteen or twenty feet from Stargell, but Willie had to bounce it in. It was then that you realized that having Tekulve in the pen was a much-needed Plan B. Willie was in such bad shape that they needed a back-up plan if he couldn't make it to the ceremony, and Tekulve would have made a strong second choice for the last pitch in the ballpark.

After the final pitch the Pirates set off a bunch of fire works as people left the building. We hit the road and made it back to Chicago just before four in the morning.