Lets go Bucs! No, really!
This summer Myles asked for a new Pittsburgh Pirates shirt with a player's name across the back. Normally, I would dissuade him from this, especially with the track record of recent years trading some of our favorite players. However, this year is different, as is this player.
More Pirates-love after the jump
For as long as both kids have been alive (and of course, longer) the Pittsburgh Pirates have not been a winning franchise. I've used our continued fandom as a lesson in faithfulness and steadfastness. It's like living in a Biblical parable, less the vines to be tended, mustard seed, and a prodigal son or two. There's no earthly reward (read: Pennant) for teams and fans of teams that lose like this (read: Penance). But we persevered, if only because that is right.
We missed all opportunities to attend games last year when we were home, while the Pirates were still playing above .500 ball. That was definitely not going to happen this season. This time, the kids were going to experience something different in PNC Park. The Pirates were in contention for playoffs, and baseball just feels different when hope is on the line.
The kids had a brilliant time.
Myles turned to my mom to show him how to score the game.
My niece Evangeline drew pictures of the baseball field and the clapping hands. She looked up from where we sat and could see lots of clapping hands.
My niece Mia and Brigid learned how to flash the Zoltan like pros.
The Zoltan?
Early in the game we experienced some highs, like Garrett Jones' single-shot home run followed by the fireworks. That was one of Brigid's favorite moments. Then the game took a turn for the worse, notably when the Cubs' pitcher (and former Pirate) Paul Maholm was walked (!!!) to load (!!!) the bases. The Pirates lost 5-1 to the Cubs.
During the game as the Buccos fell behind and even after the last inning, though, this did not feel like the many, many losses we've watched from the stands. Sure, it was yet another defeat we sat through, but clearly absent was the defeated mood we have grown used to enduring. It was almost like the fans understood that even a winning season cannot be perfect, and we can accept losing when it is not as frequent as the happier results. The idea of baseball having a long season was heartening, rather than the usual opposite.
More Pirates-love after the jump
For as long as both kids have been alive (and of course, longer) the Pittsburgh Pirates have not been a winning franchise. I've used our continued fandom as a lesson in faithfulness and steadfastness. It's like living in a Biblical parable, less the vines to be tended, mustard seed, and a prodigal son or two. There's no earthly reward (read: Pennant) for teams and fans of teams that lose like this (read: Penance). But we persevered, if only because that is right.
We missed all opportunities to attend games last year when we were home, while the Pirates were still playing above .500 ball. That was definitely not going to happen this season. This time, the kids were going to experience something different in PNC Park. The Pirates were in contention for playoffs, and baseball just feels different when hope is on the line.
The kids had a brilliant time.
Myles turned to my mom to show him how to score the game.
My niece Evangeline drew pictures of the baseball field and the clapping hands. She looked up from where we sat and could see lots of clapping hands.
My niece Mia and Brigid learned how to flash the Zoltan like pros.
The Zoltan?
Early in the game we experienced some highs, like Garrett Jones' single-shot home run followed by the fireworks. That was one of Brigid's favorite moments. Then the game took a turn for the worse, notably when the Cubs' pitcher (and former Pirate) Paul Maholm was walked (!!!) to load (!!!) the bases. The Pirates lost 5-1 to the Cubs.
During the game as the Buccos fell behind and even after the last inning, though, this did not feel like the many, many losses we've watched from the stands. Sure, it was yet another defeat we sat through, but clearly absent was the defeated mood we have grown used to enduring. It was almost like the fans understood that even a winning season cannot be perfect, and we can accept losing when it is not as frequent as the happier results. The idea of baseball having a long season was heartening, rather than the usual opposite.
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