The Streak Continues

On August 8th the Pittsburgh Pirates owned a record of 63-47. 16 games over .500. Second place in the National League Central, only 2 ½ games back from the Cincinnati Reds. Star outfielder Andrew McCutchen was leading the league in the race for the batting title and Most Valuable Player. Pirates fans couldn't help but begin to believe that the electricity surrounding their beloved team would finally break the dastardly curse of 19 straight losing seasons and book a trip to the postseason. How greedy of us.

The Pirates needed only to win 19 more games to achieve a winning record. Instead, they reverted to the pathetic losers of yesteryear and proceeded to lose 36 games. On September 28th the Pirates were mathematically eliminated from climbing the Great Wall of Winners by losing 1-0 to none other than the Reds. They finished the season a disappointingly close 79-83, their best record since 1992. If only that record could reflect how well the team played for three-quarters of the season.

The team treated its fans to a roller coaster ride of a season. The months of April and May started out slow. The Bucs were up and down throughout most of the spring but finished out the month of May with a 25-25 record. Fans remained skeptical. June and July sent Pirates faithful into hysteria. Players began harnessing the power of Zoltan. Drawing inspiration from the cult film Dude, Where’s My Car? the team began making a “Z” with their hands when they got a hit to imitate an iconic scene from the movie Gradually fans embraced the Zoltan too, even designing shirts and posters that displayed the “Z.” The whirlwind of hype and hope that surrounded the team gave the baseball world a feeling that the woeful Pittsburgh team would finally do something special.

Pirates catcher Rod Barajas popularizing the Zoltan

And then August decided to rear its ugly head. Though the pitching rotation had slowed substantially (James McDonald in particular), the Pirates had managed to string together enough wins to compete for one of the NL Wild Card spots. Yet suddenly, as mysteriously as their meteoric rise through the baseball ranks had begun, it deteriorated. Strikeouts, strikeouts everywhere. ERAs that ballooned out of control. Relievers that offered as much relief as Tylenol would for a root canal. Did I mention that they were losing?

Not only was the team doing poorly, Andrew McCutchen, their hero, their savior, slipped into a terrible slump. On August 17 his batting average hit .360. It would not eclipse that mark the rest of the season. Though he still maintained his position of one of the MLB’s best players, his average steadily declined as Cutch struck out more and more. Pirates fans whose hopes of a winning season were dwindling now saw their aspirations of an MVP candidate going down the drain as well. McCutchen would finish out the season with a .327 average, nine points behind Buster Posey of the San Francisco Giants.

Even Pirates center fielder Andrew McCutchen was unable to escape his
team's late season slump.

The Pirates’ collapse begs inquiry. How could one of the hottest teams in professional baseball, on the verge of salvaging 19 years of losing, possibly take such a titanic plunge into the depths of failure? Many of the most renowned baseball analysts will cut to the root of the matter by supplying facts and statistics. “McCutchen’s swing is off,” one might suggest. “The right guys aren't in the rotation right now,” says another. “Alvarez should have batted fifth, not sixth.”

The critics can make those types of arguments all day, and maybe some of them were right, but put simply, the Pirates remembered that they were the Pirates. The team wasn't used to winning seven to ten games in a row like the Yankees or the Rangers. What they were used to was losing. Late in the season when they succumbed to five or six game losing streaks more frequently, they fell into the trap of not believing in themselves. Whether or not the solid coaching or the faith of the players faltered, the results on the field did not mirror their successful playing style earlier in the season, and analysts and fans everywhere took notice.

Personally, I turn to social media outlets like Twitter and Facebook for information about popular baseball opinions amongst fans. When the Pirates were winning, fans came out of the woodwork, praising their team for accomplishing what most thought impossible. Some of the more optimistic ones even championed them as “World Series bound.” Naivety at its finest. Yet when August came around, these fans were nowhere to be heard, didn’t even show up at their hearings to eat crow. First things first, Pirates fans: we don’t have to right to talk smack until our team actually finishes over .500 by for the first time in almost as many years as I’ve been on this earth.

If any bright spot can be found in the nightmarish conclusion to the Pirates' season, it comes in the form of the talent that is currently on the team. As of now, the Bucs haven’t lost any major players to other teams. McCutchen will of course still headline the ball club as the juggernaut all-star. Other notable returning offensive players include Neil Walker, Garrett Jones, Pedro Alvarez, and Michael McKenry. The pitching staff will also return ace A.J. Burnett, closer Joel Hanrahan, and other contributors James McDonald and Wandy Rodriguez. With the core of the team returning, they have the advantage of understanding what winning feels like and can take the necessary steps to improve in order to sustain that winning deep into September.

From left to right: Andrew McCutchen, Neil Walker, and Garrett Jones

For the more symbolic optimists out there, they can turn to the number of consecutive losing seasons suffered by the Pirates: 20.  If they lost one more, it would bring their grand total to (you guessed it, mathletes) 21, which is coincidentally the number worn by arguably the greatest Pirate ever, Roberto Clemente. A member of the 3000 Hit Club, Clemente was killed flying a relief mission to Nicaragua in 1972, but managed to achieve exactly 3000 hits before doing so. I don’t usually look to “signs” to indicate how a situation will play out, but if there was any season where the possibility of breaking the curse would seem the strongest, 2013 is a strong candidate. To associate the number 21 with the longest losing streak in professional sports would quite simply sully the legacy Clemente cemented in Pittsburgh.

So next year around this time, take a look at the National League standings on ESPN.com. Note the small “z” next to the Pirates that indicates “Clinched Playoff Berth.” Observe how many points over .500 the team is. October baseball will return, Pirates fans. Sooner, rather than later.

Just a Dream

Clyde Drexler takes the ball out by passing it to Magic Johnson. Johnson dribbles up the court with all the swagger and poise only the best point guard of all time could muster. He threads the ball under his legs quickly leaving one defender in the dust. He turns on the speed at half court, looks right, but slings the ball around his back to the left resulting in another seamless fakeout. He swiftly dishes the ball to the hulking Charles Barkley. Barkley backs down his defender, a man likely regretting the decision to guard the behemoth power forward. Barkley spots a teammate near the three-point line in the corner and passes to Chris Mullin. Mullin pump fakes once, sending his defender into the stratosphere. All the while, the incomparable Michael Jordan streaks down the middle of the court. Mullin sees an opportunity too good to be true. He hurls the ball towards Jordan just as he lifts off from near the foul line. His Airness catches it in midair, with his trademark tongue drooping from his mouth, and slams the ball through the hoop with one hand. MJ lands like a cat and turns up the court with a confident smirk, sending the crowd into immediate hysteria.

They were an unstoppable force. A group of 12 all-stars who assembled together to create the most legendary team in all of basketball history. So storied was the United States 1992 men’s Olympic squad that they earned the nickname “Dream Team.” They were the ultimate package, the best players on the planet, on one team.

Headlining the team was of course Michael Jordan, widely regarded as the best player of all time. The rest of the team was comprised of 10 NBA players that included: Scottie Pippen, Karl Malone, John Stockton, David Robinson, Larry Bird, Patrick Ewing, Clyde Drexler, Chris Mullin, Charles Barkley, and last but not least, Earvin “Magic” Johnson. Christian Laettner of Duke University was also selected to the team, the lone collegiate member with no professional experience.

Top row from left: Charles Barkley, Patrick Ewing, and Karl Malone
Bottom row from left:  Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan

Take one look at the aforementioned team, take a step back for a second, and realize the sheer amount of talent. Every single one of the players was elected to the NBA Hall of Fame (with the exception of Christian Laettner). Also consider the fact that the Dream Team didn’t just beat the other teams to win the 1992 gold medal at Barcelona, they demolished them by an average deficit of nearly 44 points. It just didn’t seem fair. The closest game played by the team took place during the gold medal match when the United States won by a staggering 32 points with a score of 117-85.

Could another team ever even come close to equaling or surpassing such a force? For years, few sports analysts or professional athletes thought it possible, yet the 2012 U.S. Olympic men’s team had other plans, a rubric designed to supplant the Dream Team as the best team of all time. Led by LeBron James, whom most analysts regard as the current best player in the world, the team was also composed of numerous other talented athletes. The 11 others members of the team included: Kobe Bryant, Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook, James Harden, Carmelo Anthony, Tyson Chandler, Deron Williams, Andre Iguodala, Kevin Love, Chris Paul, and rookie Anthony Davis.

With such a gifted roster, it becomes more reasonable to understand how some of the 2012 team rationalized that they could beat the Dream Team. Their perfect 6-0 performance en route to winning the gold medal in the London Olympics lends itself even further to that idea. Although their margin of victory of 32.1 points was lower than the Dream Team’s 43.8 points, the 2012 team managed to set a number of records of its own. During a game against Nigeria the team scored an Olympic record 156 points, shattering the old record of 138 set by Brazil in 1988. The team also set U.S. records for three-pointers (29), field goals (59), field goal percentage (71%), and margin of victory (83 pts). Carmelo Anthony even set a U.S. single game record by scoring 37 points in the game.

The 2012 U.S. Men's Olympic Basketball Team touting their gold medals

Though that dominating performance showcased just how good the team could be, they were not truly tested until later games. They barely edged Lithuania by five points in a 99-94 victory. The gold medal match also offered a thrilling battle against Spain in which the U.S. won narrowly 107-100. Many critics will jump at the chance to point out how close these games were when juxtaposing the 2012 team with the Dream Team. While it's true that the Dream Team’s margin of victory was higher and they didn’t really experience any close games like the 2012 team, the level of competition in 1992 may have been lower when compared to present-day international talent. For instance, in 1992 the U.S. team faced Croatia- a squad with only two NBA players- in the final and beat them by 32. In contrast, the 2012 U.S. team’s closer seven-point victory is made more understandable given that seven NBA players were on Spain’s team.

With all the evidence finally assembled, perhaps a just decision can finally be reached as to which American team would come out on top. As far as player-by-player comparison goes, clearly the best player on the court would be Michael Jordan. Joining Jordan on the starting roster would likely be Magic Johnson, Patrick Ewing, Charles Barkley, and Larry Bird. The 2012 team’s expected lineup would probably consist of LeBron James, Kevin Durant, Chris Paul, Kobe Bryant, and Tyson Chandler.

One of the most obvious points of comparison is the 2012 team’s lack of a star center. Though talented, Tyson Chandler simply wouldn’t be able to keep up with Patrick Ewing or David Robinson for that matter. The Dream Team would have to get the nod in that category. As far as the rest of the team goes, the point guard battle would in all likelihood be won by Magic Johnson and John Stockton, though the trio of Chris Paul, Deron Williams, and Russell Westbrook would give them a run for their money. LeBron would most definitely make an impact as the best player for his team, and the aging Kobe Bryant would yet again turn back time and lend a hand with his veteran leadership and scoring ability.

Pictured from top to bottom: the 1992 team and the 2012 team. Note: Blake Griffin (No. 14)
did not participate due to injury and was replaced by Anthony Davis (not pictured).

In the end though, it’s difficult to imagine the 2012 contenders dethroning the Dream Team. Although a number of current players will surely win more championships, set more records, and eventually end up in the Hall of Fame, the odds of them conquering the 1992 team just seem unlikely. But perhaps likelihood of victory isn't the real issue; instead, maybe what basketball scholars and contemporary analysts should realize is that the Dream Team blazed the trail for future American Olympic teams. The current group of players, LeBron and Kobe included, have learned from that team, taken pages from their book and created their own separate legacy. When basketball critics of the future look back on the accomplishments of both teams, one aspect of comparison will be perfectly clear: both squads represented their decade's pinnacle of basketball success, but what the Dream Team achieved is something so special and unprecedented that it can never be duplicated.

The Fall of Joe Paterno

He had more Division 1-A College Football wins than any other coach. He led the Penn State Nitanny Lions to two national championships. He stood as an icon for the NCAA for decades and cemented such a storied legacy within the university that he was even memorialized as a statue in front of Beaver Stadium to remind those of his accomplishments and contributions… until now.

Amidst one of the most shocking and repulsive scandals in the history of collegiate or professional sports, Joe Paterno witnessed the reputation he had crafted for himself and his football program collapse. The cracks in Paterno’s armor became ever more prevalent as a myriad of child sexual abuse allegations were levied against former defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky over the past year. Sandusky was eventually found guilty on 45 of 48 counts and will likely be sentenced to life in prison later this year.

Jerry Sandusky and Joe Paterno

Some may not be able to connect the dots as to how Paterno could possibly be involved in such a scandal, an affair so damning that it resulted in a $60 million fine, a four-year football postseason ban, reduction of football scholarships, a vacation of all wins dating back to 1998, and the dismantling of the famed statue of the coach. Various analysts, former players, and fans have voiced their opinions about how Paterno’s involvement in the scandal should have been handled. They bickered back and forth, some defending Paterno and others harshly condemning him.

Regardless of your own personal sentiments in the matter, facts have recently been unearthed that reveal the steps taken by Paterno, and other members of the Penn State administration, to impede the process of justice for the victims abused by Sandusky. The investigation took the form of a scathing documentation assembled by an investigative council led by former FBI director Louis Freeh. The results of the report stated that Paterno, suspended athletic director Tim Curley, former university president Graham Spanier, and former vice president Gary Schultz failed to protect against sexual abuse being committed by Jerry Sandusky for over a decade, thereby enabling him to remain in contact with young boys, a number of whom came forward as additional victims.

Needless to say, the entire ordeal is one of the most unfortunate incidents ever encountered by the sports world. Yet even more mind-boggling to me is the fact that a multitude of Penn State supporters are still standing behind Paterno despite the evidence that he and three other men directly impeded law enforcement from descending on Sandusky.

Let me get something out into the open before I continue: Joe Paterno was one of the best coaches of all time. Prior to the Sandusky scandal, his name was one of the most revered throughout all of collegiate athletics. However, that same honor and respect that Paterno garnered will now wane, and deservedly so. But how can even the most dedicated Penn State fan stand up for a man responsible for covering up such a heinous crime?

From what I can gather right now, the large majority of the pro-Paterno audience is arguing that the Sandusky affair was not football-related. And I agree... to a point. Concerning the sanctions imposed against Penn State, I'd say most of them are warranted. I don't approve of the bowl ban for the next four years nor do I condone the limiting and rescinding of athletic scholarships. I can't see where the NCAA derived that logic. Punishing the players and coaches present on the team that weren't involved to any degree just seems wrong.

Before: Joe Paterno's statue at Beaver Stadium

On the other hand, though the $60 million fine, vacation of wins, and removal of Paterno's statue  are  extremely harsh measures, their degree of intensity runs parallel with the unprecedented nature of the violations incurred at Penn State.  Given that this is likely the most serious collegiate athletics scandal ever, the NCAA used what resources were at its disposal to create what they believed was a fitting punishment. Since nothing of this nature has ever taken place, many people's natural reactions are sure to be shock, outrage, and disappointment. Those emotions are certainly understandable, but fans  who back Paterno even now are doing so in incredibly poor taste.

After: Joe Paterno's statue removed

I'm not suggesting that they completely abandon their admiration for Paterno but rather scale it back to a semi-reasonable level. Examples of such overly supportive behavior can be found on Twitter, Facebook, and other social media sites. People clamor about why the statue should stay, and that removing it directly infringes upon Penn State's legacy. What legacy? The legacy that has now been tarnished by the blatant cover-up of systematic child rape? Displaying the statue of the man who, with a few others, had the power to bring Sandusky to justice would have been a terribly inconsiderate move for Penn State, and, most importantly, acted as a direct affront to the victims.

I applaud Penn State for removing the statue from its position near the stadium and placing it in private storage. I'm sure it was a difficult decision to make, but it simply had to be done. This entire scandal is bigger than football, and it's also bigger than Penn State. With that said, action had to be taken to make an example out of those responsible for the mishandling of Sandusky's behavior. As stated earlier, I most certainly disagree with some of the sanctions against the university and believe they punish people who had no involvement in the affair. Regardless, I believe the rest of the action taken against Penn State is appropriate and rewrites the NCAA rulebook as to how to deal with situations that approach such gravity.

Joe Paterno's dramatic fall from grace will inevitably be looked upon as one of the most unsettling demises in the history of sports. The man was looked upon as a god at Penn State, a being who could do no wrong, who epitomized an incomparable moral integrity. And that's what makes this entire thing all the more shocking. No one expected it from Paterno. He had been around for too long and accomplished too much for the university. The reputation that he carved into Happy Valley is now tainted with the dark mark of covering up Sandusky's abuse. I understand that hero worship in the form of athletes often results in following them blindly and pushing aside their shortcomings, but supporting Paterno in this plight is a crude and immature way of dealing such a hideous chain of events.

Grass Court Greatness

Up until now, I've mainly been writing about the MLB and the Pirates in particular. However, this post aims to break the mold and give another sport a chance to share the limelight. As you may or may not know, one of the most popular tennis tournaments in the world recently came to an end this past weekend. Wimbledon, the famed London tennis complex, played host to the best players in the world all in competition to oust one another on the grass courts and forever engrave their names in the annals of tennis history.

One of the greatest qualities of professional tennis is the game's unpredictable nature. This year's Wimbledon was certainly no exception to the rule. Both the men’s and the women’s sides witnessed dramatic upsets and unbelievable comebacks that annually characterize Wimbledon and excite audiences worldwide. Though the women’s side surely offered a number of rousing matches including Serena Williams’ magical run en route to winning another title, I’ve chosen to focus on the men’s side in fear of writing an overly-lengthy post. I promise to make up for my omission in the future.

The 128-man field was split up into four separate brackets with one of the world’s top four seeds placed in each. The big four have remained largely unchanged for the past few years with Novak Djokovic (Serbia), Rafael Nadal (Spain), Roger Federer (Switzerland), and Andy Murray (Great Britain) leading the charge from spots 1-4 respectively.

The early rounds of Wimbledon initially offered little in the way of surprises; however, things took a dramatic turn when Rafael Nadal, the second-ranked player in the world, suffered a stunning defeat at the hands of Lukas Rosol of the Czech Republic. Ranked 100^th in world when he beat the great Spaniard, Rosol became the lowest-ranked player to ever beat Nadal in a Grand Slam tournament. Rafa was clearly frustrated as the match wore on, as he tumbled into the net and bumped into Rosol during a court changeover. Whether or not the bump was intentional, there was no denying the fact that Nadal was angered over his inability to contend with someone of such low rank.

Despite Nadal’s early exit, the remainder of the top three continued their dominance into the semifinals. Djokovic looked masterful throughout the majority of Wimbledon, and most analysts were settling on the 25 year-old Serb to win the entire tournament. Roger Federer, regarded as the best in the world prior to Djokovic’s meteoric rise through the tennis ranks, had other plans.

Many had written off Federer as too old…at the age of 30. He had also been experiencing back problems. Pundits were offered further ammunition to fuel their beliefs that Federer was running out of gas when he barely won a thrilling five-set, two-tiebreak match against Florian Mayer (#22) of Germany. Yet Federer, calm and collected as usual, went into the match with Djokovic with confidence and managed to upset the world number one in four sets, making his way to yet another Grand Slam final.

Because of Nadal’s early exit, the latter half of the bracket allowed Frenchman Jo Wilfried Tsonga to enter the semifinals for a match against the native fan favorite Andy Murray. Murray, who had never been able to surmount the challenge of winning his home country’s tournament, received tremendous support from fans throughout all of Wimbledon. But the British have seen this episode far too often: Andy Murray makes a run deep into a Grand Slam event only to fail to make it into the final. The world number four was determined to shake this long-standing skepticism surrounding his play. And he did just that. He went into his match with Tsonga with the air of an accomplished champion and methodically defeated his opponent 6-3, 6-4, 3-6, 7-5. With that victory, Murray again won over the hearts of Britain as they now anticipated a Wimbledon final that could yield a British champion for the first time since 1936 when Fred Perry hoisted the trophy.

The highly-touted men’s final drew a worldwide audience of 16.9 million, the highest viewing figure since 1990. Needless to say, the tennis world was on its feet to potentially witness an event that hadn’t transpired in years. Murray opened the match with a 6-4 first set victory which encouraged British supporters that he just might do it. However, they may have neglected to consider the iron will and unbreakable fortitude of Roger Federer. Not to be denied, Federer stormed back with an exciting 7-5 victory in the second set to tie the match. In the third set, Murray challenged Federer again but was unable to overcome the Swiss onslaught as he dropped a second set 6-3. On the brink of failure, Murray gave every bit of energy and effort he could manifest, as he attempted to fight back against Federer and win Wimbledon for both himself and his country. But regardless of his tremendous endeavor, he would be denied the trophy as Federer won the fourth set 6-4, ending Murray’s miraculous run.

In the midst of evident disappointment, Murray met Federer at the net to congratulate him on his seventh win at Wimbledon and 17^th overall Grand Slam victory. Yet what most will remember about this year’s final may have been Andy Murray’s post-match speech. After being handed the microphone, Murray prefaced his oration with a bit of humor to lighten the mood as he announced, “I’m getting closer.” Fans responded positively with a mixture of laughter and applause, eager to show their pride and support for the country’s native son.

Following the ovation, Murray began again saying, “Alright, I’m going to try this, and it’s not going to be easy.” Mid-way through that sentence the runner-up broke down into tears as the intense emotion of the grueling tournament finally overcame him. Cameras zoomed in on Murray’s family and close friends, many of whom had also begun to get choked up. Murray eventually regained his composure long enough to address the Wimbledon champion. Mustering all the humility and class of a true sportsman, Murray congratulated Federer, commenting on his skilled play despite his age and bad back and praising him as a deserving winner. He then went on to thank his friends and family that had supported him throughout Wimbledon, paying careful attention to avert his eyes from where they were sitting so as not to cry again.

Finally, Murray expressed his gratitude to his fans, and with his voice yet again becoming shaky proclaimed, “Everybody always talks about the pressure of playing at Wimbledon, how tough it is. But the people watching…they make it so much easier to play. The support has been incredible, so thank you.” With those last words, Andy Murray made his way over to Roger Federer and embraced him, epitomizing the true meaning of sportsmanship and sculpting himself as role model not only for young athletes but also for some his more boastful contemporaries who could learn a thing or two from his example.

Whether you’re a tennis aficionado, casual fan, or disinterested bystander, you simply can’t deny the athletic spectacle that was Wimbledon 2012. Upsets, resurgences, and the presence of true character all made this grass court tournament special. And if there’s one aspect of Wimbledon you should remember, keep in mind Andy Murray’s post-match speech. Don’t focus on the crying. Focus on why he was crying. Though some may scorn him for his overt display of emotion, his behavior typifies the passion and dedication that go into building a professional athlete. And those are the aspects of the game that serve as a poignant reminder of why sports mean so much to us in the first place.

In Cutch We Trust

Pittsburgh Pirates fans know that Andrew McCutchen can play baseball. For the past few years, their star center fielder has dazzled them with circus catches, sprayed big hits to practically every spot in the ballpark, and come through in crunch-time situations game after game. It's no wonder they claim that "Cutch" is clutch.

Yet as talented as McCutchen is, his coming out party to the rest of the baseball world has only recently taken place. Being a member of the Pirates tends to have that unfortunate effect as of late. As perennial bottom-dwellers in the National League Central, the Pirates haven't finished with a winning record record in 19 years, a dubious honor to say the least. The Buccos almost broke that curse last year, in large part due to McCutchen, but following the All-Star break their pitching wasn't able to hold up, and the hitters simply weren't producing.

At long last it seems that 2012 is shaping up to be "the year" for the Pirates, knock on wood. And if that prediction does end up coming to fruition, Andrew McCutchen has most certainly led the charge. At the All-Star break, McCutchen's name appears in the top five of nearly every statistical category in the N.L. Allow me to take a minute to rattle off just a few: 1st in batting average, 1st in slugging %, second in hits, third in RBIs, third in OBP, third in runs, and fourth in home runs. Did I mention he's also stolen 14 bases? And that batting average? It doesn't just top the N.L. It leads all of Major League Baseball. Is there really a better candidate for Most Valuable Player?

Sure, there are obviously other worthy contenders like Joey Votto of the Reds or David Wright of the Mets, but if we really break down what the MVP award is all about, then McCutchen stands head and shoulders above everyone else as of now. He's simply more valuable to his team than any other player. Take, for instance, the amount of runs the Pirates have scored this year: 345. McCutchen is directly responsible for 118 of those runs, via RBIs and runs scored. One man is the driving force behind 34% of his entire team's offensive production, and that stat doesn't even factor in the hits or walks that move runners into scoring position, to be later driven into home by other players. If you can't hear the myriad of the Pirates' fan base screaming "M-V-P!" then that statistic should broadcast  that message loud and clear.

So the next time you see a Pirates highlight on ESPN, keep an eye out for Andrew McCutchen lurking in outfield. His trademark dredlocks make him an easy target to spot. That, or you could simply check out the box score. Whether he's getting hits, RBIs, home runs, or stolen bases, you can make a safe bet that his name will appear on that stat sheet. Long story short, without McCutchen the Pittsburgh Pirates wouldn't be playoff contenders, and they wouldn't be in line to eclipse a .500 record for the first time in nearly two decades. But, most importantly, they wouldn't be giving their fans and their organization a reason to believe that their team is capable of success.

Star-Studded Affair

As the month of July begins and temperatures skyrocket throughout the majority of the nation, we can finally get excited for Major League Baseball's 83rd annual All-Star Game. This year's Midsummer Classic is setting up to be a thrilling affair that will take place in Kansas City on July 10. More importantly, two players from the Pittsburgh Pirates were lucky enough to be voted onto the National League team this year. Andrew McCutchen, a likely Most Valuable Player candidate, and shutdown closer Joel "The Hammer" Hanrahan are each making their second All-Star appearance, and Bucs fans are itching for the rest of the nation to see their team's talent in action.

Fueled by an aggressive campaign by the Pirates, Bucco faithful urged their fellow fans to "#VOTECUTCH." The aforementioned hashtag spread like wildfire throughout my own Twitter and actually motivated me to vote a few extra times for Pittsburgh's star player. Most MLB analysts and experts will admit that McCutchen is easily one of the most versatile and talented players in the league. He's got speed, cat-like reflexes, power, intelligence, and a winning personality to boot. With a baseball arsenal like that, how can you NOT like this guy? He ranks in the top five in practically every statistical category in the National League, including Batting Average, Slugging, On Base Percentage, and Hits (he's tied for sixth in Runs Batted In). Moreover, he's stolen 14 bases and made a handful of highlight-reel catches out there in center field, casually playing the role of Superman for his team day-in and day-out. Long story short: Cutch is a stud.

Hanrahan may not garner as much of a following as McCutchen, but there is no denying the fact that the man can throw one mean fastball. Known as "The Hammer" because of his ability to shutdown opposing teams' batters in the ninth inning, Hanrahan is one of the best closers in the league. Easily recognized by his tell-tale chin beard, Hanrahan has notched 20 saves for the Pirates, a record that is third overall in the N.L. With the power and strength harbored by Hanrahan, it seems like this guy is going to be a successful closer for quite some time.

Two players might not seem like a major accomplishment, but when one considers the fact that the fans control a large number of the players who are voted into the All-Star Game, the results make more sense. I don't mean to suggest that they don't vote the most deserving players into the game because I think, for the most part, that they do. But for teams like the Pirates, who aren't the most popular or most successful franchise out there right now, some of the players who are most deserving of the selection get overlooked for more big-name talent. James McDonald and Jason Grilli I'm looking at you. I do realize that players and managers have some pull when it comes to voting, even further justifying why these guys should have made it. McDonald ranks sixth in the N.L. with an Earned Run Average of 2.44 and has won seven games for the Pirates. Grilli has quietly earned 18 holds. Why is that important? Well, 18 is the most in the N.L. He's also struck out 48 batters. Clearly he stands as one of the best set-up men in the league, and yet neither he nor McDonald have received an All-Star nod. Hopefully these guys will continue to work hard and produce despite that adversity and someday receive the honor they deserve.

All-in-all though, the All-Star Game should be entertaining. It actually means something, unlike the other all-star games of the NFL, NHL, and NBA. Whichever league wins the game receives home-field advantage in the World Series in October, an important prize to say the least. And given that McCutchen has been my favorite player for a few years now, I'll definitely have a blast rooting him on. And hopefully Hanrahan can showcase that fastball of his too. And don't forget about the Home Run Derby. Nothing quite like watching the best sluggers in the league pound the ball out of the park.

The Twentieth Time's The Charm

So before I got started on writing some current material, I figured that I'd post one of my past pieces on here first. This was actually an assignment I did for a class at Pitt about a year ago, but I've since updated it and revised it a touch.

Premise: I'm a huge Pittsburgh Pirates fan, and I, like many other dedicated Bucco faithful, have had to endure 19, THAT'S RIGHT. NINETEEN, losing seasons. With each spring training comes the hope that this team will undergo some kind of dramatic revitalization and produce a winning record, make a playoffs, or, dare I say, win the World Series. Yet they consistently disappoint for whatever reason. This is basically me explaining what us Pirates fans have gone through and what we hope to achieve via our team.  So, with that said, happy reading.

We’ll get ‘em next year. If someone asked me or any other Pittsburgh Pirates fans to calculate how many times we’ve heard that hopeful declaration, we’d respond dejectedly with the number 19. 19 consecutive times the Buccos have broken- or further pulverized- the hearts of fans who continue to support the team that has supplanted the Buffalo Bills as the forerunners of failure. Each year, a team that seems to be fielded by the collective rejected of the rest of Major League Baseball takes swing, after swing, after swing, a process that provides opposing pitchers with a performance akin to a gorilla repeatedly waving around a banana to satisfy paying customers at the Pittsburgh Zoo.

Is that too harsh? Oh, don’t get me wrong. I know my team is incredibly awful, but I stick with them each year with the naïve hope that they will at least surpass a .500 record or- don't go into cardiac arrest here- make the playoffs, a feat which hasn’t occurred since 1992. Such repeated punishment, without the promise of entry into some eternal and divine resting place, tends to boggle the minds of fans whose teams have been able to perform successfully over the course of the past two decades. The question then arises: why?

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As of 2012, PNC Park stands as one of the newer parks in the MLB. With a picturesque view of the Allegheny River available from almost every seat in the stadium and a spectacular skyline composed of the blood and sweat of countless steelworkers, the Pirates’ home is regarded by many upper-echelon baseball gurus as one of the best ballparks in America. With a large number of restaurants and a veritable endless supply of Bucs’ merchandise, the park possesses a certain charm and irresistibility that can satiate even the most sour of fans.

As my father and I walk over the Roberto Clemente Bridge, named in honor of the former Pirates Hall of Famer and 3000 Hit Club member, I take note of the sun, a low bright orange orb, which has propagated the azure sky with streaks of gold and has just now begun its descent behind Mount Washington. I avert my eyes from the spectacle and realize that my feet have been constantly propelling me forward this entire time. I look up just in time to avoid stumbling into a gigantic bronze statue of Clemente, who is depicted as watching a ball he had just launched into the outfield bleachers. My father gazes upward at shiny metallic face, a face that triggers powerful memories of his boyhood idol and all-time favorite player.

After regaining composure of our senses, we present our tickets to man behind a turn style. “Welcome!” he says in a boisterous voice. “Enjoy the game today, gentlemen!” We take our ticket stubs and saunter into the ballpark. I navigate a path under the bleachers out in left-center field and make way to seats slightly behind and to the left of home plate. My dad and I walk down the aisle dodging a five year-old precariously balancing a bag of popcorn in his left hand. After finally locating our row, we sit back and relax in two of PNC Park’s 38,362 seats. I look out into the playing field, and my eyes search for names of players that I recognize, players that might actually make a contribution like other teams’ players do. Maybe they’ll have a chance of hitting a home run, turning a double play, or making a spectacular game-saving catch out in center field. I quickly locate the tell-tale dreadlocks of Andrew McCutchen, my current favorite player and one of the team’s actual bright spots. Aside from "Cutch" and second-baseman Neil Walker, the Pirates' lineup is bereft of much "big-name" talent, though the addition of veteran A.J. Burnett seems to have had an immediate impact on the success of the currently lights-out pitching staff the team has put together. Whether or not they will hold up the rest of the season remains to be seen.

I, like practically every other Pittsburgh fan, witness budding Pirates stars’ seemingly chronic teleportation from the squad to another, which will pay that athlete an amount that greatly surpasses any salary that the Bucs could offer. Sluggers such as Brian Giles, Jason Bay, Freddy Sanchez, Nate McLouth and longtime fan favorite Jack Wilson, have all seen their days as a Pirate eliminated as more successful and more wealthy teams snatched them up. When compared to the booming $202,689,028 payroll of the New York Yankees, the Pirates’ miniscule payroll of $45,047,000 does not facilitate the process of luring the most talented players in the MLB to the steel city.

However, although many fans have given up, capitulated in the face of chronic failure, that hasn’t stopped us. My dad and I have gone to at least two Pirates games a year since before I can remember. He dusts off his old glove, a glove he used back in the good ol’ days, the days when the Pirates could actually compete and win the World Series, actually make the playoffs, and actually possess a winning record. I watch as he walks down the steps to the third base line during batting practice. I see him lean over the railing and pound his fist repeatedly into his glove, eagerly awaiting the chance to snatch up a line drive, just as he did years ago when he jostled for position against a few 20-somethings just to grab a ball for his son, to show him how fun a Pirates game could be. I lean back and rest my arms on my seat. I watch the fans slowly file in. They are drawn to this place, to this team, a team that has been the laughing stock of the MLB for nearly two decades. But to me, winning is not the only requirement to warrant the love of and loyalty to a city’s sports team. The entire game is encapsulated by its individual components, by the aroma of hot dogs and burgers being grilled for hungry patrons, by a father taking his son to a ballgame, and the seat itself. If I have that seat, in my eyes the Pittsburgh Pirates will never die.

-Matt