Pittsburgh Pirates. Don’t Let This End.
Good morning. I woke up with a sore throat today after you fell to the St. Louis Cardinals 2-1 at PNC Park last night. But my throat isn’t as sore as I thought it would be.
When I woke up yesterday I didn’t have intentions of going to the game. As the morning hours–and the chilly rain cleared–that feeling changed. Once our season tickets sold on StubHub the feeling got worse. I had to be at this game. What in the world was I thinking?
As I raced to the game I tried drinking everything I could to fix my throat from the adrenaline charged victory on Sunday, but I didn’t take my good luck charm, you might have seen his picture before. That was one of many mistakes.
So by the time the eighth inning rolled around it was obvious the Bucs needed a change of fortune. What in the world could I do? Being a highly superstitious fan is a blessing and a curse….you know what, I think his lucha is in my bag. As I pulled it over my face, the guy behind me asked what I was doing.
I didn”t feel much like talking to one of the guys that asked us to sit down during the game. The beer vendors did to. It was because people couldn’t see behind us. For some reason, it always bothers me to disturb others at a game. Although none of them were crippled, they felt it wasn’t necessary to stand at key moments during the game. Odd.
The most opportune time for a standing ovation was when Pedro Alvarez stepped to the plate early in the game. Why wasn’t the entire PNC Park on their feet I thought as I stood clapping. The fact that an inning later when the scoreboard flashed the news that the Flyers had fired their coach received a louder response than El Toro made me shake my head.
So yeh, I was a little pissed off when the guy asked about the history of the lucha. Didn’t he realize that the lucha had an undefeated record in NFL, NHL, and now…MLB playoff games? C’mon, everyone knows that right? I asked him if he wanted to rub it for a dollar, but apparently his hearing was bad.
The crowd seemed like an older one. It was unquestionably, at times, a negative one. For moments they brought me down too. I feel like shit for allowing that to happen.
I should have screamed louder.
I should have stood longer.
I should have told those who screamed for me to sit down to stand up
I also feel like shit for missing more than an inning in the pisser line. At some point, PNC Park is going to need upgrades. Especially if the team is planning on increasing attendance with improved play on the field which should lead to more postseason games.
Most of us realize the PNC Park scoreboard sucks, but wouldn’t it be a better investment to increase the urine capturing abilities of the stadium? Less time could be spent waiting to piss and more time could be spent in the park, spending money on concessions and generally just allowing fans more time to not dread the idea that the guy in front of you might actually not piss, but take a shit? God that’s a terrible feeling, fortunately it never happened to me. But that guy in the Van Slyke jersey…yeh, God Bless him. Surely he must have powerful legs to hover over that bad boy in such a crucial situation.
But look, I didn’t do enough, the reasons are many, but in the end none of them matter. The only thing that matters is that you give me one more shot to do better. Give this town one more shot. Don’t let this season end.
Give us another chance to make it right.
It’s not you and your lack of hitting. It’s me.
C’mon. I won’t let you down this time.
It can’t end like this.
Andrew McCutchen flies out to end the game Monday.