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Pirates’ numbers paint sad picture

By John Frederick

For the Mirror

I am a reformed baseball fan and statistifile.

My affliction began with the Pirates’ near miss in 1966 and continued unabated beyond the Pittsburgh’s’ 1979 World Championship.

Half a century later, my mind remains cluttered with Pirate batting and earned run averages, trades gone awry and ones that helped win championships. I fondly recall evenings on my grandfather’s front porch listening to Bob Prince and Nellie King and the once a year pilgrimage to Forbes Field and Three Rivers Stadium.

Who could forget Clemente legging out a triple that rattled around the spacious Forbes Field’s outfield? The record-setting Alley to Maz to Clendenon double play? Manny Sanguillen throwing out a runner, while seemingly still in the crouch? Or Matty Alou slapping one the opposite way for another hit, even though everyone suspected that’s where he’d hit it?

Even in those seasons (’67, ’68 and ’73) they were unable to stay in the race, there was an excitement which remained watching Roberto throw runners out at the plate or Elroy Face’s fork ball making hitters look silly swinging at pitches that ended up in the dirt. Or how about Willie Stargell hitting one over the roof, or 6-foot-6 Bob Veale wiping off his glasses after just missing a batter with a 100- mph fastball?

Particularly after the shameless drug scandal, to which Manager Chuck Tanner remained naively oblivious, my boyish infatuation with the game faded.

The playoff teams of the 1990s managed to rekindle the old fire until the steroid epidemic, the revolving door of free agency, and the Pirates’ nearly perennial bottom-of-the-standings mediocrity extinguished the flames of enthusiasm yet again.

Twelve of the 15 seasons between 1965 and 1979, the Bucs won 88 or more. Even in the three off years they won 80 games.

In a most extraordinary turn, the last 32 seasons have produced only three teams with 88 wins — the three wild card years a decade ago. Even more depressing, those were the only three winning seasons over that time span.

Let that sink in: Two losing seasons (and just barely) between 1965 and 1983 and 29 between 1992 and 2024.

This riches to rags reflection was prompted by the Pirates’ final statistical summary in the Mirror the week after the season ended, compiled by John Hartsock.

Being the statistical fanatic I was in those days of yore, I started comparing the Bucs of my teenage years with the last couple editions. As is so often the case, the stats typically reflect the team’s performance, and this holds true once again with our persistently pitiful Pirates.

A caveat is conceded, that it is tricky to compare different eras. And some of the advanced metrics provide some different insights. Yet some clear patterns arise just the same.

You’ll never mistake the current Bucs from those teams a half century ago. From 1965 to 1983, the Pirates’ team batting average dipped below .257 only one time — 1968, the “Year of the Pitcher” — when they hit .252.

Only one of the last eight Pirate teams (since their last playoff appearance) have managed to hit that average. But that 2019 pitching staff was so bad (5.18 ERA) they still lost more than they won. Six of the recent teams have been unable to hit .240.

Every team from 1966 to 1974 had at least five regulars hit over .280. (They had six regulars hit over .300 in 1969.) Recent Pirate teams have not had a single regular hit .280 since Adam Fraizer and Bryan Reynolds did it in 2021. Perhaps most astoundingly, 11 Pirates with at least 100 bats were unable to hit more than .240. Five of them were outhit by the 1974 Pirate pitching staff!

This past edition of the Pirates struck out 1,506 times, an average of 600 more whiffs than their 1965-1974 teams. They were 12th or 13th in every notable batting category in 2023, and fell to last or next to last in each category this past season.

So much for progress.

The three-year playoff run aside, the endless rebuilding has pushed Bucco fans into a passive resignation that the franchise seems destined to muddle in mediocrity forever.

For those of us old enough to remember those hitting heydays, it has been an especially unpleasant thing to watch.

John Frederick periodically contributes sports reflections to the Mirror in addition to his biweekly Earth Matters column.

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