This is Our Year - Take 17

One of the biggest honors bestowed upon me came in October 2007 . On the last Sunday of that month, my buddy Watts asked me to serve in his wedding as the best man. Watts is the first of my Pittsburgh pals to tie the knot (clearly giving me the courage to do the same) and he would have his family and friends travel to St. Paul, Minnesota for his and Maria's big day. In pondering best man responsibilities, most of which I did a fairly poor job with, Watts requested that I speak at the rehearsal dinner on his behalf. In other words, it was showtime!

Patty can tell you that I thought long and hard about what to say on that Memorial Day Saturday; you would have thought that I was being inducted in Canton. After several drafts and practices, I shared with the company my experiences and life lessons that I was lucky enough to learn from in his presence. I told everyone that when I think of Watts, three attributes come to mind: strength, intelligence, and loyalty.

No, this wasn't a pitch to join the Navy Seals. I gave some tear-jerking examples of Watts' mastery of strength and intelligence. When it came to loyalty, though, I could not help but render back to the common thread that makes Watts' and my friendship so strong. "I'm pretty sure Michael and I are two of final 15 or so Pirate fans left on the planet," I uttered with a peculiar seriousness. "If we can love the Pirates for this long, we can love anyone. "

And with that backdrop, I present to you one of my top five favorite days of the calendar year: Opening Day! The adrenaline still rushes through my arteries with the prospect of the ball hitting the mitt, the fresh grass, the pearly white chalk running down the base lines...and a clean slate in the standings. Tied with everyone in the division and the league, even if it is just for one day, the Pittsburgh Pirates are staring at their 17th straight summer in the red. However poorly the chips are stacked against us, I'm still eternally optimistic and faithful to their craft every April. Watts can speak on my behalf - in our ritualistic preseason predictions, I routinely say THIS is going to be the year.

To win the World Series...no.

To go the World Series...no.

To win the division...not quite.

To make the playoffs...getting warmer.

To finish AT .500...you guessed it!

The Pirates and I are currently beginning Volume IV of the Five-Year Plan. About every five years, we (I really should start typing I) am led to believe that a winner is either in the works or here. And every year, instead of getting excited for a September stretch run, the second biggest baseball day becomes July 31st, the day when we find what players the Pirates are trading for future prospects.

I owe much of this infatuation to my dad, who brought me into baseball, to the love of the game, to the appreciation for its history, and to its techniques and mechanics that make it so special. In my youth we would go to Opening Night almost every year until I was 10 and that solely bred the thrill, win or lose. Now, Opening Day is so important and exciting to me because, if we win, that tells me we are capable of being at or above average for at least two days!

There are memorable Opening Days for me over these last 17 years:

1993 - We beat the Padres at home by 5 or so with guys that were supposed to replace our superstars (Al Martin, Carlos Garcia, and Kevin Young.)
1994 - We played in San Francisco and lost by about 10. I knew it would be a rough year on the mound. At least no one made the playoffs that season.
1998 - We shut out Montreal with Francisco Cordova on the mound. I really thought he might win the Cy Young that year.
2003 - We destroy the Reds in Cincinnati - I think it was 10-2. I was working at Ruby Tuesday's as the afternoon affair was being played on TV. I distinctly remember sacrificing timely service just to make sure our 5-run cushion was not being threatened.
2004 - MY FAVORITE - a 2-1 victory at home against the Phillies. It was the beginning of my spring break as a rookie teacher and I asked my dad if he would get us tickets. I drove back home and he and I battled the 30 degree temperatures and watched Craig Wilson belt a solo shot in the sixth before the vaunted Jose Mesa slammed the door for the save. Awesome!
2007 - We beat Houston in Houston - that never happens! Xavier Nady hits a homer in the top of the ninth with two outs of Brad Lidge to tie the game. We win it in the tenth and I proceed to call everyone I can think and ask, "Did you see that?"
2008 - We give up five runs in the bottom of the ninth to the Braves, but win 12-11 in 12 innings. Mark could hear my yelling in the basement with every out; I felt ill.

That brings us to this season. Every year since sixth grade, I have heard much of the same - if any team needs to start well, it's the Pirates. I think our problem is that we think "start" means the first four games. We need to think of "start" as the first four months. In the past 16 years, we've won 70 or more game just 7 times and 80 never. A record of 80-82 is painfully close to .500 and we've sniffed that twice (in '97 and '99.)

The Steelers and Penguins have brought me enough happiness for the next eight years; I'm covered in the "not complaining" department. I'm not depressed, I'm not starving, I'm not cripplied. But it would be so so nice if, just for one year, we were a winner just as much as a loser. I shake my head at Cubs fans that moan they haven't won a World Series since there were mammoths and Red Sox fans who felt cursed. They publicly advocate for losing AND they've had plenty of chances to win AND they wear their losing like a badge of honor. Imagine going from kindergarten through college and never knowing what it's like to see the sun. That sounds cruel - that's what 16 straight losing seasons feels like. Anyone can get on the Red Sox and Cubs bandwagon just like any one can cheer for the Steelers. You have to really know how to love if you're a Pirates fans. But when they do win, I'll be one of the few that did not hop on the bandwagon - I'll be steering the coach.

So tomorrow in St. Louis, Missouri, we get our 17th mulligan. I'm just as hopeful as ever - I like the players we have and, even when grossly outmatched, feel we can put up a winning performance 81 times out of 162. The Twins can do it. The As can do it. The Rays can do it. The Marlins can do it. I know we can, too.

And if we don't, those 15 loyal fans might dwindle to two with no horses to carry us.