Pirates must face uncomfortable reality about Andrew McCutchen’s potential return in 2026

For the last three years, the Pittsburgh Pirates’ offseason has ended the same way: with Andrew McCutchen coming home.

It became ritual. Comforting. Predictable. A franchise legend returning to the place that made him, bridging the distance between a fanbase starved for relevance and a team still searching for its next era. McCutchen wasn’t just a player—he was a feeling. He was continuity. He was proof that something still connected Pittsburgh to its best baseball memories of the century.

But for the first time since that reunion began, McCutchen's return no longer feels inevitable. It feels… complicated.

The Pirates’ 2026 roster is taking shape in a way it simply hasn’t before during this chapter of McCutchen’s career. Ryan O’Hearn is here. Brandon Lowe is here. Bryan Reynolds still occupies one of the few everyday corner spots. The lineup suddenly has actual structure — and with it, actual constraints.

So... where does McCutchen fit?

That question would’ve felt sacrilegious not long ago. This is a living franchise legend. The 2013 MVP. The face of a revival. The player who made PNC Park electric again. You don’t bench Andrew McCutchen. You don’t phase out Andrew McCutchen. You bring him back, because that’s what you do.

Except baseball eventually forces you to confront reality.

Andrew McCutchen no longer has a clear landing spot on the Pirates' roster in 2026

McCutchen can’t be a full-time outfielder anymore. The legs, the range, the wear of nearly two decades in the majors — they’ve all spoken. That leaves designated hitter as his most logical role. But DH is no longer a soft landing spot on this roster. O’Hearn and Lowe both profile as players who will spend meaningful time there. Reynolds could slide in on days he needs a breather. Even younger bats could cycle through.

The Pirates are, for the first time in years, building a roster around winning now instead of sentiment. And that’s where the discomfort begins.

This isn’t about whether McCutchen can still help a team. He absolutely can. It’s about whether the Pirates can justify shaping their roster around a role that no longer naturally exists for him. It’s about whether the emotional gravity of his name should outweigh the practical demands of a team trying to take a real step forward.

For years, bringing McCutchen back made perfect sense. The Pirates weren’t ready. The roster was thin. The stakes were low. He was a bridge — between eras, between fan and franchise, between what Pittsburgh had been and what it hoped to become.

But sometimes, bridges aren’t meant to be permanent. The Pirates are trying to move from nostalgia into legitimacy. From “maybe someday” into “why not now?” And that shift demands hard choices. It demands that roster spots be earned by fit, not by history. It demands that every at-bat serve the present, not honor the past.

None of that diminishes what McCutchen means. Nothing ever could. But honoring a legend doesn’t mean pretending time stands still.

If McCutchen returns in 2026, it has to be because there is a real role for him — not because it feels wrong to imagine a Pirates season without him. The franchise can’t afford to operate on emotion alone anymore. Not if it truly believes the window is opening.

The hardest part of growing up as a team is learning when to let go. And for the first time in this long, winding reunion, the Pirates may finally be staring at that moment.