Sean Burnett, Shut Your Piehole

Don't Mess With Me - I Play Baseball

Two things:
Sean Burnett is right.
Sean Burnett needs to shut his piehole.

The Washington Nationals are 34-72. That’s a winning percentage of .321. They’re nipping at the heels of division-leading Philadelphia, trailing the Phillies by a mere 26 1/2 games.

The pathetic Pirates are 45-60. Let’s do the math, Sean: 45 minus 34 equals 11. The Pirates are 11 games better than the Nats. So if we’re the laughingstock, what are you?

So, Mr. Burnett, do something productive, like get ready for tonight’s meaningless Nationals game against Florida. You may be called upon to face some slugger who’s more juiced than a Florida orange grove. Keep your opinions to yourself. Be happy. You play major league baseball, the greatest exhibition sport since the World Wrestling Federation.

Pirates Trade PNC Park to Cubs for Prospect

The Pittsburgh Pirates today traded their home field, taxpayer-funded PNC Park, to the Chicago Cubs for a single-A pitching prospect. GM Neil Huntington told reporters, “We’ve had our eye on this kid for a long time. We felt, especially since we didn’t give up one of our veterans, that this was a good deal for us. We project this particular pitcher to be a number 5 starter in 2017.” Huntington’s counterpart in Chicago told the Sun-Times, “We’re delighted with this trade. PNC Park is a gem, and the guy we gave up has two broken arms and is awaiting Tommy John surgery.”

Pittsburgh Mayor Luke Ravensthal, whose parents had taken him to Disney World for a pre-school vacation, said in a statement, “I’m really, really upset at this.” He added, “I can’t wait for school to start. Gym class is my favorite.”

Obviously feeling the need to address the mayor’s stinging criticism, Pirate owner Bob Nutting spoke for the first time in eleven years. Breaking his vow of silence, he told reporters, “I do what I want. I’m the owner. We’re trying to build a winner. It’s not about money. I know people are upset. We’re excited for the future.”

Shortly after Nutting spoke, the Pirates announced they have added another fireworks show to take place next Friday in the dirt pit that was once PNC Park. 290,000 tickets have already been sold for the event.

In related news, the Pirates unveiled their new logo…

…new mascot…

…and new hat emblem

The Pirates Give Up On the Pirates

Pirate Management Thanks Pirate Fans For Support

I’ve not heard anyone else say this, so I will:
The Pirates had it in mind to dump McLouth’s salary for awhile, but waited until the Penguins were back in town in the middle of the Stanley Cup Finals to pull the trigger on a deal, hoping the story would get lost amongst the Penguins coverage. Like every other calculation Pirate management makes, they were wrong. There is something unique about the reaction of Pittsburgh fans to the latest personnel move of this dismal organization, and I really think it will show in ticket sales, or lack thereof, for the remainder of the year.

In the post entitled The 2009 Pirates - Good While It Lasted, I wrote, “For the record, I haven’t given up on the 2009 Pirates just yet.” How could I have known that the Pirates already had?

Oh, Babe, Where Art Thou?

I attended a Pirate game over the weekend. God save me.

Actually, it was a fun night even though the Pirates closer blew a save in the ninth inning. One thing that stuck with me is that if you live in Pittsburgh and want to see lots of Penguin and Steeler attire, go to a Pirate game.

One other thing that’s stuck in my head like glue is a really disturbing image of major league baseball players and silvery helium balloons.

Here’s the deal: the games aren’t enough in Pittsburgh anymore, the team is horrible and has been horrible since, oh, the first Bush administration. So we need fireworks, bobbleheads, beach umbrellas (which is strange because there aren’t any beaches here), beach towels (which is strange because…oh never mind), and a gigantic hi-def scoreboard that can be seen from Wheeling, West Virginia.

The first time a player comes to bat the scoreboard displays all his relevant stats. The second time less so, in keeping with the traditions of the game. It’s that third at-bat where things get…well, weird.

Last year, somebody in management decided it would be cool to dress each player in an artist smock and provide them with paint brush, palate and easel. You may not be surprised to learn that being able to play baseball at a level above 99.9% of the population does not make you a painter. At least the player left the particular video shoot with his manhood intact. Not so this year.

In this banner season in which the Pirates could well break the all-time professional sports record of consecutive losing seasons, the players have been placed in a large white room with dozens upon dozens of floating silver helium balloons. The player holds a bat. And then begins to swat the balloons. Some twirl around, creatively, like they’re being coached by an unseen choreographer. It’s all very…I can’t even say the word. I refuse to say it. But I’ll say this: what in the name of Babe Ruth were the players thinking when they agreed to this? I’m certain this was a decision made in the marketing department, but did the players have to buy off on it? Couldn’t someone have stood up and said, “Enough! I refuse!” I mean, I never even saw one of them break a balloon, which is fertile ground for the more sarcastic among us.

After watching about three of these video clips, I thought about how glorious baseball used to be and where it is today: perennial champions, perennial doormats, steroids, empty luxury seats at the new Yankee Stadium, and on and on. Then I thought of Babe Ruth approaching his team’s management and saying something to the effect of, “Can you guys film me in a room full of balloons and I’ll just swat away at them for a few seconds? I’ll twirl, I’ll spin, I’ll smile like a kid at Christmas. Then you show it to the crowd just as I come up to bat?”

Imagine Yankee management buys off on this and projects this image on a giant screen assembled over the left field wall. Imagine two guys in the crowd sitting in stunned disbelief. Finally, one turns to the other and says, “I do say, I believe the Babe is queer.”