A Pirate's Life For Me

I'm not a Pittsburgh-area native. So when it comes to sports alliances, I often find myself torn between rooting for those players representing my adopted city -- or still cheering for my hometown. (That means I'm an Eagles fan; sorry.)

But when it comes to baseball, my loyalties are clear: I'm a Bucs fan.

And it is, of course, a great year to be a Pirates fan. In honor of the season, I thought I'd research a little into the history of my adopted team -- and share my results. (If you enjoy these factoids and anecdotes, be sure to check out Tales From the Pirates Dugout: A Collection of the Greatest Pirates Stories Ever Told by John McCollister, and 

Were You There?: Over 300 Wonderful, Weird, and Wacky Moments from Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium by Stephen Mulligan -- for many more great Pirates stories.)

The first-ever radio broadcast of a Major League Baseball game ... was a Pirates game. On August 5, 1921, 26-year-old Harold Arlin announced the game on KDKA radio, covering Pittsburgh's defeat of Philadelphia by a score of 8-5. (Since there was no such thing as a broadcast booth, Arlin announced the game from a box seat at Forbes Field.)

Said Arlin, years later: "Our broadcast -- back then, at least -- wasn't that big a deal. Our guys at KDKA didn't even think that baseball would last on radio. I did it as a one-shot project." The broadcast led to new fans finding their way to baseball -- and new people coming to Forbes Field. (In 1921, annual attendance for home games broke 700,000 -- an increase of nearly 300,000 from the year before.)

It might be Ray Mueller's good luck. On July 16, 1950, reserve catcher Mueller was in the dugout of Forbes Field when outfielder Ted Beard came to bat. During his four-year career with the Pirates, Beard hit five home runs -- total. Not the most stunning of stats. But on that particular day, Beard hit a fastball from Boston Braves pitcher Bob Hall that cleared the 86-foot-high right field grandstands.

It was the first time in the past fifteen years that the feat had been achieved. But it wasn't the first time Mueller had witnessed such a hit at Forbes Field. After all, Mueller had been a rookie for the Braves 15 years earlier -- when Babe Ruth was in his final year of professional baseball.

It was in Pittsburgh that Ruth hit the final three home runs of his career. One of those homers shot over the 86-foot-high roof of the grandstand -- making Ruth the first player to ever clear the right field stands.

What's in a name?  In 1913, a rookie outfielder joined the team: Everitt Little Booe. (The "e" is silent.)

His first trip to the plate in-uniform was at a spring training session. Spring training ballparks weren't known then for their advanced sound systems, so the tradition was for the home plate umpire to shout out each player's name for the fans in the stands.

Our new outfielder trotted out to the batter's box, approaching home plate umpire Bill Klem. First thing the rookie did was announce his last name: "Booe!"

Klem looked at him. "What did you say, kid?"

"Booe!" repeated the rookie. "I said, 'Booe'!"

Agitation grew as a suspicious Klem began threatening Booe with expulsion from the game if he didn't give Klem a straight answer. Finally, manager Fred Clarke and outfielder Max Carey ran over to straighten out the misunderstanding.

The umpire permitted the rookie to bat after all. But before Booe took the plate, Klem had some advice for him: "Kid, if you ever expect to stay in this league, you better change your $#@-ing name."

Scheduling conflicts can be rough. And relief specialist Bruce Kison had a doozy -- his wedding was scheduled for the same day as Game 7 of the 1971 World Series. (To make matters worse, it was an away game in Baltimore; the wedding was being held back in Pittsburgh.)

The Pirates won the game by a score of 4-1. The moment the game was over, Kison and his best man (pitcher Bob Moose) made for Memorial Stadium's parking lot, where a helicopter was waiting to take them to the airport, followed by a trip by private jet. Groom and best man made it only 20 minutes late to the church.

(Thanks would go out years later to Pirates broadcaster Bob Prince, who made the arrangements possible.)

Sometimes, you just need a good ace in the hole. Idaho native Vernon Law was being courted by a variety of team scouts -- including Babe Herman and Herman Welker of the Pirates. With so many other teams in contention for Law, Herman and Welker needed an edge.

When Herman and Welker knocked on the door of Law's parents, they presented a box of candy -- and an incoming telephone call to Mrs. Law from one of the Pirates' minority owners. It was just Bing Crosby, calling to tell Mrs. Law what her son would mean for the Pirates, and promising that the Pirates would provide Vernon with an appropriate atmosphere for a young man (the elder Laws were devout Mormons). Vernon was instantly a lock-in.

"I almost felt guilty pulling that trick on the scouts from the other teams," Welker would say later, grinning broadly. "Almost felt guilty."

(Law would go on to pitch an 18-inning game in 1955. The score had been tied 2-2 to the Milwaukee Braves, and Law continued to pitch two complete games in a single evening. Law was finally relieved in the 19th inning by Bob Friend, and the Bucs ended up winning 4-3.)

Let's leave the last word to humorist Dave Barry, who is something of a Pirates fan himself, as he recounts the 1960 Pirates-Yankees World Series matchup (you can read Barry's whole column here):


School was out for the day, and I was heading home, pushing my bike up a steep hill, listening to my cheapo little radio, my eyes staring vacantly ahead, my mind locked on the game. A delivery truck came by, and the driver stopped and asked if he could listen.

The truck driver turned out to be a rabid Yankee fan. The game was very close, and we stood on opposite sides of my bike for the final two innings, rooting for opposite teams, him chain-smoking Lucky Strike cigarettes, both of us hanging on every word coming out of my tinny little speaker.

And of course if you were around back then and did not live in Russia, you know what happened: God, in a sincere effort to make up for all those fly balls he directed toward me in Little League, had Bill Mazeroski -- Bill Mazeroski! -- hit a home run to win it for the Pirates.

I was insane with joy. The truck driver was devastated. But I will never forget what he said to me. He looked me square in the eye, one baseball fan to another, after a tough but fair fight -- and he said a seriously bad word. Several, in fact. Then he got in his truck and drove away.

That was the best game I ever saw.

-- Post by Ms. B 

America's Pastime

Baseball. America's favorite pastime, or a once-legendary sport that is steadily losing popularity -- it depends on who you ask. (After all, according to Star Trek, the final World Series will be played in 2042.)

That said, it seems unlikely that baseball is on the brink of disappearing. After all, bat-and-ball games have been around so long that it's difficult to trace exactly where baseball "came" from. The first known mention of the name came in John Newbery's 1744 book Little Pretty Pocket-Book. The first all-professional team was formed in 1869, known as the Cincinnati Red Stockings, led by captain Harry Wright.

Since then, baseball has gone on to become one of the defining aspects of American culture, with more people attending Major League Baseball games each year than any other sport (including football). The game has acquired legendary status in American pop culture, with movies like Pride of the Yankees and Field of Dreams adding to the mystique of the game.

The month of February features birthdays of two of the game's most-famous players -- so read on to find out more about these unforgettable legends from baseball history.


-- Babe Ruth

Even if you don't know baseball, you know Babe Ruth. Beginning his career as a pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, he went on to play for the New York Yankees and became one of the most prolific home-run hitters in baseball history. (The sale of Ruth to the Yankees by Boston owner Harry Frazee is the defining moment that led to the infamous legend of "the Curse of the Bambino" -- the eight decades that passed before the Red Sox ever again won the World Series. Read more about that here.)

George Herman Ruth, Jr. was born on February 6, 1895, in Baltimore, one of eight children of a saloonkeeper. At the age of seven, judged to be a mischief-maker, he was sent to St. Mary's Industrial School for Boys. It was there that he was first introduced to baseball, learning the game from one of the monks. Ruth's brilliant left-handed pitching skills led to Jack Dunn, of the Baltimore Orioles, adopting Ruth in 1914 in order to secure Ruth's release. Ruth was picked up by the Boston Red Sox that same year.

By 1919, Ruth's 29 homeruns had set a sports record and ushered in a new era of baseball. He was sold to the New York Yankees in 1920, for a whopping (for the time) $100,000 (along with a $350,000 loan). He would go on to lead the Yankees to seven championships, which included four World Series titles. He made 714 home runs in his lifetime -- second only to Hank Aaron's 755. He's considered by many fans to be baseball's all-time great player.

His career ended in 1935 -- and his somewhat dubious personal reputation (he spent money as quickly as he earned it) made a career as a major league manager difficult to achieve. Instead, he became the head of the Ford Motor Company's junior baseball program -- helping to usher in a new generation of players.

To those of us in the 90s generation, Babe Ruth is of particular popularity thanks to his "appearance" in the 1993 film The Sandlot. Set in the 1960s, the movie tells the story of Scott Smalls, who's moved to a new town with his mom and stepdad. Desperate to make friends with the baseball-loving kids in the neighborhood, Smalls volunteers to filch a baseball from his stepdad's collection so they can continue their summer-long game. All's well until Benny Rodriguez, the star of the Sandlot, smacks a home run over the fence and into the adjoining yard. It's a great play, but the ball is now in the possession of The Beast, the massive guard dog that inhabits the yard. The kids offer to buy Smalls a new baseball for his stepdad, when Smalls makes his inadvertent confession: the baseball they lost had been signed by Babe Ruth. 

Antics ensue as the kids try to retrieve the ball before the return of Smalls's stepdad from a business trip. The problem seems hopeless -- until Benny Rodriguez receives a ghostly visit from the Great Bambino himself, who encourages Benny to give it his all. "Heroes get remembered," says Ruth. "But legends never die."

-- Honus Wagner

Johannes “Honus” Wagner was one of the finest baseball players in the history of the game. To this day, almost 100 years since he retired, he is still considered the best shortstop the game has ever known. 

He spent most of his career playing for his hometown's team, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Wagner himself claimed that he was offered $20,000 cash in 1901 to play for the Chicago White Stockings. But Wagner, who was making $2,700 for the Pirates at the time, turned it down. Playing in his hometown meant more to him than any sum of money. 

Wagner, born February 24, 1874, was the son of German immigrants to Western Pennsylvania. His father was a coal miner, like Wagner would most likely have become if not for his baseball talent. He was one of six children, five boys and one girl. All of the Wagner boys played baseball. His older brother, Al, was supposedly more talented, but was not that interested in pursuing a career as a baseball player (although he did play professionally for a time).

Wagner learned how to play every position in baseball, including pitcher. While pitching didn’t really work out that well for him, his versatility at other positions helped him find jobs and keep them. Wagner played his first professional baseball game in 1895, and two years later, he made his major league debut with the Louisville Nationals as a center fielder and, occasionally, as a first baseman. 

In 1899, the Louisville team disbanded, and Wagner signed with the Pittsburgh Pirates. He would end up playing the rest of his career with the Pirates, retiring in 1917. At that time, he held the all-time records for games, at-bats, hits, runs, stolen bases, and total bases.

He was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1936 as one of the five original inductees.

One of the most well-known facts about Honus Wagner is how valuable his 1909 American Tobacco Company baseball card is worth. Before the company had Wagner’s permission, it had a portion of the planned cards printed. Wagner did not give his permission, because he did not want young children buying cigarette packages just to get his photo. Even though he was a tobacco user (although not a cigarette smoker), he was very concerned about young boys getting involved in a bad habit. The limited number of cards and Wagner’s refusal to give his permission is what has made this card so valuable. No one knows how many cards are still in existence, but the most famous one recently sold for $2.8 million in 2011. While this amount is extreme, other ATC Wagner cards have sold for more than $75,000. So you might want to check your grandpa’s baseball card collection to see what hidden gems there may be!

-- Post by Tracy and Ms. B