Our Guy
I didn't know how to feel when the Pirates traded away Nate McLouth mid-summer 2009. He was a homegrown Pittsburgh talent and he was coming off an All-Star appearance too. The Pirates were reportedly making room in the outfield for a speedy, dude with dreads named Andrew McCutchen.
Even amidst all the talk and reports of this sensational talent coming up the minor league ranks, I wondered at the time, "who is this 23 year old kid, that has the GAUL to demand an occupied position, forcing the Pirates to trade away their lone star??"
I was pissed at the Pirates. No matter the fact they traded McLouth to our local team in South Carolina in the Braves. It was the closest I've ever come to abandoning the team for which I'd always rooted. But then something amazing happened.
The Pirates promoted and centered the direction of their franchise around this Andrew McCutchen fella. And he was good. Scratch that, he was great!! They didn't have a new centerfielder. They had a superstar. They had an MVP-caliber talent. They had a game-changer. They had a culture-changer. They had a community hero. They had a true franchise player.
We Pirates fans thought we had it good in 2004 when a baby-faced Canadian named Jason Bay won Rookie of the Year. But Jason Bay couldn't hold a maple leaf to the influence that "Cutch" has had for those in Pittsburgh and for Pirates fans across the country.
Cutch was special. For almost 10 years, Andrew McCutchen has been not only a face of baseball, but perhaps the face of sports in Pittsburgh (don't worry--you're on the Mount Rushmore, Ben, Sid, and Geno). He was our guy! We had Cutch and others didn't. The dreads. The nickname. The swagger. He was our guy.
I'll remember where I was when my thread of connectivity to the Pirates was frayed. Kristin and I had just gotten home from the grocery store. As we parked in the driveway and I looked to see the alert on my phone, I joked that a part of me died, when in actuality I think there's some truth to that statement. We walked in the house and I just stared at my phone for a few minutes, taking in the news. I think Kristin thought I could have cried.
It's one thing to know your franchise is tearing everything down (again), and as they traded Gerrit Cole several days back, that was one thing. But now Cutch is gone. And he was our guy.
Cutch has felt like a part of my extended family for years. A casual conversation with cousin, aunt, and uncle alike could easily have contained the phrase "did you see what Cutch did the other night?" mentioned with the same nonchalance as if one of us were to say "did you hear what your cousin did the other day?" For my family, I have to believe he was as Pittsburgh as the convergence of the Three Rivers, the strip, the incline, and Eat N' Park. He was piece of the city itself. He supported the Penguins and Steelers with a vigor, and gave fans of baseball in general heartwarming moments. I remember when he proposed to his then-girlfriend on Ellen, and the recent addition to his family felt like an addition to my own family in a way.
Cutch helped turn the franchise around. This franchise, that had worn bags over their heads and had fired coaches with as much frequency as they had struck out on the field. In the 16 years before Cutch came on the scene, our losers averaged 69 wins a year. They play 162 games a season. Losing wasn't just expected. We wondered how many they could possibly lose. The Pirates were a joke, and not just within our family but to the nation. I still remember the ESPN The Magazine feature Dan and I hung on our bedroom walls that highlighted a story all about the Pirates' pathetic-ness. Within four years, our guy had helped take this team that hadn't won in 20 years to the playoffs for the first time in my time on this earth. He was named the cover player for MLB: The Show, the video game, won the MVP, and gave Pirates fans memories which will never fade.
And now he's gone. Just like that. Cutch represented the Burgh in a way that's hard to put into words. He worked hard, played hard, and turned the Pirates into a force to be reckoned with--if only for a brief period of time. Too brief a period of time.
Again, we knew this time would come. The Pirates never pay their players and there's another blog post to write about this franchise that continues to infuriate and disappoint its fanbase. But it's one thing to talk about the end and for that end to arrive.
So thank you, Cutch. Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to watch you in the Midsummer Classic five times. Thank you for assisting your community in a way that rightfully rewarded you with an award named for your Pirates predecessor, Roberto Clemente. Thank you for providing Pirates fans with hope and a confidence, which later developed into a strut in our step that we featured a player you wish your team could have. Thank you for competing in the Home Run Derby in 2012 and providing Bucco fans a chance to watch you under the bright lights of a Monday night national showcase. Thank you for boldly taking on the duties of being the face of our lovable loser of a franchise. Thank you for showing up to work, a work you made look joyful and easy, for (by my calculations) 1186 of a possible 1406 games--a staggering 84% of games. You always came to bring it, and for that we are thankful. Thank you for busting it from first to home on easy pop-ups, to show the other guys in the clubhouse what it meant to give it your all. Thank you for naming your son Steel; the Steel City appreciates it. Thank you for convincing the other guys to jump up and tap gloves and to mean mug in the outfield after another Pirates victory. Thank you for making it fun to announce to all that we could RAISE THE JOLLY ROGER.
Thank you, Cutch.
Even amidst all the talk and reports of this sensational talent coming up the minor league ranks, I wondered at the time, "who is this 23 year old kid, that has the GAUL to demand an occupied position, forcing the Pirates to trade away their lone star??"
I was pissed at the Pirates. No matter the fact they traded McLouth to our local team in South Carolina in the Braves. It was the closest I've ever come to abandoning the team for which I'd always rooted. But then something amazing happened.
The Pirates promoted and centered the direction of their franchise around this Andrew McCutchen fella. And he was good. Scratch that, he was great!! They didn't have a new centerfielder. They had a superstar. They had an MVP-caliber talent. They had a game-changer. They had a culture-changer. They had a community hero. They had a true franchise player.
We Pirates fans thought we had it good in 2004 when a baby-faced Canadian named Jason Bay won Rookie of the Year. But Jason Bay couldn't hold a maple leaf to the influence that "Cutch" has had for those in Pittsburgh and for Pirates fans across the country.
Cutch was special. For almost 10 years, Andrew McCutchen has been not only a face of baseball, but perhaps the face of sports in Pittsburgh (don't worry--you're on the Mount Rushmore, Ben, Sid, and Geno). He was our guy! We had Cutch and others didn't. The dreads. The nickname. The swagger. He was our guy.
I'll remember where I was when my thread of connectivity to the Pirates was frayed. Kristin and I had just gotten home from the grocery store. As we parked in the driveway and I looked to see the alert on my phone, I joked that a part of me died, when in actuality I think there's some truth to that statement. We walked in the house and I just stared at my phone for a few minutes, taking in the news. I think Kristin thought I could have cried.
It's one thing to know your franchise is tearing everything down (again), and as they traded Gerrit Cole several days back, that was one thing. But now Cutch is gone. And he was our guy.
Cutch has felt like a part of my extended family for years. A casual conversation with cousin, aunt, and uncle alike could easily have contained the phrase "did you see what Cutch did the other night?" mentioned with the same nonchalance as if one of us were to say "did you hear what your cousin did the other day?" For my family, I have to believe he was as Pittsburgh as the convergence of the Three Rivers, the strip, the incline, and Eat N' Park. He was piece of the city itself. He supported the Penguins and Steelers with a vigor, and gave fans of baseball in general heartwarming moments. I remember when he proposed to his then-girlfriend on Ellen, and the recent addition to his family felt like an addition to my own family in a way.
Cutch helped turn the franchise around. This franchise, that had worn bags over their heads and had fired coaches with as much frequency as they had struck out on the field. In the 16 years before Cutch came on the scene, our losers averaged 69 wins a year. They play 162 games a season. Losing wasn't just expected. We wondered how many they could possibly lose. The Pirates were a joke, and not just within our family but to the nation. I still remember the ESPN The Magazine feature Dan and I hung on our bedroom walls that highlighted a story all about the Pirates' pathetic-ness. Within four years, our guy had helped take this team that hadn't won in 20 years to the playoffs for the first time in my time on this earth. He was named the cover player for MLB: The Show, the video game, won the MVP, and gave Pirates fans memories which will never fade.
And now he's gone. Just like that. Cutch represented the Burgh in a way that's hard to put into words. He worked hard, played hard, and turned the Pirates into a force to be reckoned with--if only for a brief period of time. Too brief a period of time.
Again, we knew this time would come. The Pirates never pay their players and there's another blog post to write about this franchise that continues to infuriate and disappoint its fanbase. But it's one thing to talk about the end and for that end to arrive.
So thank you, Cutch. Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to watch you in the Midsummer Classic five times. Thank you for assisting your community in a way that rightfully rewarded you with an award named for your Pirates predecessor, Roberto Clemente. Thank you for providing Pirates fans with hope and a confidence, which later developed into a strut in our step that we featured a player you wish your team could have. Thank you for competing in the Home Run Derby in 2012 and providing Bucco fans a chance to watch you under the bright lights of a Monday night national showcase. Thank you for boldly taking on the duties of being the face of our lovable loser of a franchise. Thank you for showing up to work, a work you made look joyful and easy, for (by my calculations) 1186 of a possible 1406 games--a staggering 84% of games. You always came to bring it, and for that we are thankful. Thank you for busting it from first to home on easy pop-ups, to show the other guys in the clubhouse what it meant to give it your all. Thank you for naming your son Steel; the Steel City appreciates it. Thank you for convincing the other guys to jump up and tap gloves and to mean mug in the outfield after another Pirates victory. Thank you for making it fun to announce to all that we could RAISE THE JOLLY ROGER.
Thank you, Cutch.