Be Like Tike

Sunday, July 22nd, 2007 by Michael Sklar

At least I can go to Seven Springs now.

[Ed. Welcome a new writer to the Be Like Tike staff, Michael Sklar]

Just when I was starting to get a little disconcerting feeling in my gut of “my god, perhaps the Pirates organization isn’t putting me first,” I found the religion of Bucco Baseball again last night. First, I was greeted by the warm, smiling face of a 80s era mascot bobblehead, which occupied my time for approximately 3 minutes, but for those 3 minutes I was in heaven, watching the head bounce up and down repeatedly. I didn’t even have to pay money for this privilege, but if given the opportunity, I’d gladly shell out $20-30 for this miniature slice of heaven, which the vast majority of the 32,000 strong paid.

After those 3 minutes, I instinctively headed for the exit, until I snapped out of my haze and realized that “by God, I’m gonna watch a baseball game now!” For about four innings, I watched the Pirates get mowed down by a man named Wandy, while Paul Maholm managed to scatter his hits, thus rendering the game scoreless. As this happened, I started complaining to my dad about Ronny Paulino’s complete sucktitude, asserting that with his swing, he didn’t seem like he could hit a ball out of the infield.

But then, in typical “We Will: Amaze.” fashion, the Pirates managed to string a few seeing-eye singles together in the next couple innings, and looked to be well on their way to their first victory in eight games. The highlight of this, of course, was that Ronny Paulino hit a hard, opposite field single, and my dad smugly said “hey, it looks like he got it to the outfield there.” I was immediately shut up, and completely forgot the law of large numbers, which states that Ronny Paulino is a terrible hitter and the Pirates are a terrible team. THEY WERE WINNING, after all, and they were going to go to 14 games under! But yesterday, they were 15! And they were gonna win this one through pure heart and spirit, as Pittsburgh is still a blue collar town with a litany of steel mills (1), and therefore by osmosis, the Pirates are a blue-collar, hard-hat team.

In the end, the pirogies raced, the wave…uhhhh, waved, and the Pirate and the Parrot shot hot dogs, flanked by pretty girls all around! The three hours were a purely sensual bonanza. But my high of victory was fading, and I was starting to realize that the Pirates were still 14 games under, they still had a minuscule payroll, they still draft based upon affordability and not talent, and Ronny Paulino is still awful. Then, my faith was restored forever, as I checked the back of my ticket, and found that I was now entitled to a $75 package from Seven Springs, compliments of the Pirates. I let out a sigh of relief, looked to the heavens glassy-eyed, and declared “They really do care!” to everyone that could hear me. I still can’t get over their thankless kindness, to let me go skiing like that.