Everybody Shout, Let's Go Bucs!

Goosebumps, tearing up, pure joy and excitement on par with that of a kid on Christmas morning. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one going through such a wide range of emotions last night as the entire nation watched my, no our, Pittsburgh Pirates knock off the Cincinnati Reds in front of an absolutely raucous crowd. I said earlier in the day that I wished I could be there to witness the bustle of the Burgh as thousands of people swarmed upon the nation’s best major league baseball stadium, PNC Park, to watch our beloved Bucs try to shake off the ghosts of 20 seasons past.

Kinda sums up my emotions of the night.

I started getting the butterflies and feeling my growing hype for the game around 5 pm and had to rush home from a club meeting to catch the game, but I got six straight green lights on the drive and could only smile to myself as I knew my Nana was doing her best to help me get home quickly. I thought about her a lot over the course of the night, as well as the rest of my Castello family as, for the first time in my life, I could picture what virtually all my relatives on that side of the family were doing at the exact same time. We’ve endured lots of awful seasons, epic meltdowns, terrible trades, atrocious signings, etc, etc. Needless to say, we started wondering if we’d ever see Pirates baseball return to the level it was last night.

Starter Francisco Liriano (Franky) was incredible, virtually flawless in his domination of the Reds. How many times has a statement like that been uttered about a Pirates pitcher in recent memory? That dominance was particularly funny to me because earlier in the day I had started reading articles on what to expect in the game and saw that some people were questioning if Liriano (the guy who I believe should absolutely run away with the NL Comeback Player of the Year Award) could reverse his fortune against a Cincinnati team that had pretty much owned him this season. However it wasn’t as if I had major qualms going into the game, especially after a weekend in which the Reds succumbed quite easily to the Pirates. I knew that the pitching would be there, as it had been all year, and that it would come down to what offense would be provided on this most magical of nights. Plus, I understood how big home-field advantage would be in this year’s NL wild-card play-in game.

No one could have guessed the offense would come from Russell Martin. I remember like it was yesterday when my brother, dad, and I texted excitedly over the acquisition of the veteran backstop. For a team used to crappy signings and bringing in washed-up bums, it was sweet to see the singing of a quality backstop, not overly over the hill. To see how this season has come full circle in the 163^rd game of the season, with the offense provided by two acquisitions (Marlon Byrd from the non-waiver deadline being the other besides Martin), quality defensive play by a couple homegrown guys in Pedro Alvarez and the Pittsburgh-born Neil Walker, and a finish courtesy of the journeyman-turned-shutdown-man, Jason Grilli, that’s pretty darn awesome.

And boy did the crowd ever show up! With all the Jolly Rogers painting the canvas of the crowd and with the haunting serenades, it sounded like a soccer match. Everybody looked awesome sporting all black and I’m gonna’ go ahead and guess that Johnny Cueto had a few Pirate-themed nightmares come bedtime. Him dropping the ball as the crowd chanted his name was priceless. CUUUEE-TOOO. CUEEEE-TOOO. That’s legendary. I’m proud that the city came alive and supported our team, when for the last two decades plenty of fans would have preferred to instead stay snug in their cozy domains and plop bags over their heads.

It was a great national showing and you could sense, even watching on TV, the flow of a generation’s worth of emotion emanating from all those in attendance. I’ve been given crap for being a Pittsburgh fan for my entire life. I was 42 days old when Francisco Cabrera got that hit, Barry Bonds' throw bounced far right, and Sid Bream slid into home, so it's such a gratifying feeling to have the united support of underdog-lovers everywhere, just under 20 years later. Not that there's no grief associated with watching that clip anymore, but it's like the monkey on our collective backs has been pretty much replaced by a lovable, lime-green parrot.

I have my own Jolly Roger hanging above my bed, eternally raised if you will. Last night I took it down to wear it as a cape. I contemplated wearing it as a toga to class today. I’m that proud to hoist the colors right about now. Not like I didn’t wear my Pirates gear before. I just get high fives and compliments these days as opposed to snickers and mumblings of “they suck.” So to get to my point, I’ve got Pirates gear lined up to wear for the foreseeable future, don’t you worry.

It’s a pleasant thought, knowing that plenty of people across the nation are rooting for our Buccos and Buctober to last more than a night. And sure, they might not win the World Series. They may not even come close to beating the Cardinals in the next round. But this is the happiest we’ve been and the most fun we’ve had in a loooooong time. We’ve been losers for quite a while. It’s nice to be winners for once.