Collier’s Weekly: Pirates Fans Are Figuring Out That Game Attendance is Now Optional

As the team continues to field a subpar lineup, some fans are opting to enjoy the North Shore without dropping money on tickets.

PHOTO BY RICHARD COOK

On Saturday, my wife and I met friends for a drink at the North Shore branch of Southern Tier Brewing. It was their suggestion, but we were happy to agree; they have a large, dog-friendly patio, making it an opportunity for a chihuahua-enhanced outing. (The beer is pretty good, too.)

None of us, however, checked the Pirates schedule when we made plans; we agreed to meet around 4, and the first pitch of a game between the Buccos and the visiting Atlanta Braves was set for 4:05. It was a nice day; even with attendance relatively low this season, we expected crowds.

We got them. Our excited dog got more than he bargained for, as we had to walk a good distance to get from a parking spot to the restaurant. When we arrived, the outdoor seating area was crowded with fans in black-and-gold gear, enjoying a drink before the game began.

Then, however, a funny thing happened: The game began. (That wasn’t the funny thing.) I could hear the starting lineups announced in the distance; on the TVs above the bar, I saw the first inning get underway. And a significant number of those fans in Pirates gear stayed at Southern Tier.

Apparently, going to the game need not actually involve going to the game. And that’s a problem — for Bob Nutting.

It’s a league-wide trend to pack more and more distractions into Major League Baseball stadiums. Bars and lounge areas lure fans away from their seats and into the concourses, where more money could be spent; play areas and souvenir stands grab the attention of children. These elements are present at PNC Park; there’s a full Fat Head’s bar in deep center field, with no meaningful view of the game, and a climbable Pirate ship for the kids.

Most stadiums have these elements; a lot of people go to games without much concern for the play-by-play. The difference, of course, is that most of those stadiums also feature interesting baseball on a somewhat frequent basis.

I think that the fans I saw dressed for the game but not actually attending have figured something out: You can have basically the same social experience outside the park as you can inside, and for a lot less money. Let’s assume that you’re not actually a fan of the game; what’s good about the experience? Meeting up with friends and enjoying food and drinks on a sunny afternoon in the city.

All of that is just as possible at Southern Tier, or a dozen other spots along the Allegheny, as it is inside PNC Park. And you’ll pay about half as much for beer — not to mention avoiding the cost of a ticket.

I’m not blaming the fans who don’t want to dutifully sit through nine innings of Bucco baseball. Some of us, myself included, are so generally interested in baseball that we’re happy to stare at the game, even if nothing happens. But for most, whatever passing interest one might have as a casual fan will not be rewarded inside PNC Park. As of this writing, the Pirates rank next-to-last in baseball in home runs. They’re only one spot better in batting average; they’re dead last in runs batted in.

Actually, there’s one offensive stat in which the Pirates lead the league: They hit into double plays more often than any other team. Even when something happens in a Pirates game, it generally leads to disappointment.

We’re told to come to the park to see Paul Skenes and the crew of dazzling pitchers on this year’s team. Even if we ignore the fact that casual fans are generally not too interested in pitching, the Pirates aren’t delivering on the mound, either; they’re 25th of baseball’s 30 teams in the number of strikeouts this year and 21st in earned run average.

All of this is to say: Why would a casual fan want to watch a team that isn’t hitting home runs, isn’t creating dramatic moments on the basepaths and isn’t striking out opposing batters? To the casual fan, there’s simply nothing happening on the field that is all that much more interesting than chatting with friends at a bar in the concourse — or a bar down the street, for that matter.

Nutting and Pirates ownership seem firm in the belief that if they put enough ridiculous toppings on a hot dog, fans will keep coming to enjoy the atmosphere and amenities. But if my visit to Southern Tier on Saturday afternoon is any indication, that strategy won’t work forever. I love baseball and will always happily watch even a bad team. (I’ve had practice.) But younger generations are not as fond of the national pastime as older generations — and it seems they’re starting to consider the expense of going to a ballgame to be a poor investment.

Here’s another statistic that may be of interest: The Pirates are averaging 17,269 fans per game. That’s the fifth-lowest mark in baseball.

Unless the administration goes out and gets some ballplayers people are excited to see, that number isn’t going to grow. There will still be fans wearing black and gold; they’ll just be hanging out down the street.

Categories: Collier’s Weekly