The summer all the memoirs were written
It's been a long time in coming. For twenty-one years, baseball fans in Pittsburgh have borne the lack of success like badge of humility. At least those who were lacking in intelligence enough to remain steadfast in spirit and wallet, like me.
There were glimmers of hope, even moments in the middle of a season that could have meant hope, but instead evaporated quickly, leaving little meaningful mark on the years' final tally. Since 1992, the Pirates have not even broken a .500 record, even after last year when at mid-season they were looking at a playoff berth.
This year again we think Pittsburgh is going to break this cycle of losing. No, really. Have you seen the news?
This could be the summer the Pirates break out of a twenty-one year slump that, in my mind, can only be explained as being the result of dark magic. This could be the summer that inspires memoirs or semi-autobiographical works, the kinds of which we normally only read about New York teams. Perhaps somewhere in Western Pennsylvania, some young, aspiring writer is starting to see how the story of the Pirates and their own story are related. This could be the summer that inspires the great Pittsburgh memoir, or even so many Pittsburgh memoirs readers grow weary of the genre.
Wouldn't that be nice.
There were glimmers of hope, even moments in the middle of a season that could have meant hope, but instead evaporated quickly, leaving little meaningful mark on the years' final tally. Since 1992, the Pirates have not even broken a .500 record, even after last year when at mid-season they were looking at a playoff berth.
This year again we think Pittsburgh is going to break this cycle of losing. No, really. Have you seen the news?
This could be the summer the Pirates break out of a twenty-one year slump that, in my mind, can only be explained as being the result of dark magic. This could be the summer that inspires memoirs or semi-autobiographical works, the kinds of which we normally only read about New York teams. Perhaps somewhere in Western Pennsylvania, some young, aspiring writer is starting to see how the story of the Pirates and their own story are related. This could be the summer that inspires the great Pittsburgh memoir, or even so many Pittsburgh memoirs readers grow weary of the genre.
Wouldn't that be nice.
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