Photo of the Day: A Prized Pirate’s Locker, PNC Park, Pittsburgh

With this past weekend’s Baseball Hall of Fame induction of Jeff Kent, Carlos Beltran, and Andruw Jones, it seemed like an appropriate point to reflect on a place with reminders of its own Cooperstown members: Legacy Hall in PNC Park, home of the Pittsburgh Pirates.

As I mentioned in this post from the other day, a thunderstorm cut short my plans to watch the Bucs for the first time while I was on vacation earlier this month. 

But before finding my seat and waiting impatiently for the “Play Ball” call that never came, I spent a few minutes in Legacy Hall, a multi-use space filled with some great team memorabilia, with much of it not previously displayed at the ballpark.

Several Hall of Fame players are commemorated here, including Willie Stargell, Ralph Kiner, Honus Wagner, and Bill Mazerowski. But I’ll focus on one in this post: an original locker from the club’s prior home in Three Rivers Stadium, occupied by Roberto Clemente. Elsewhere in the city, a museum honors the life and legacy of this great ballplayer and humanitarian.

But fans will still want to look and linger at what is on display honoring him at Legacy Hall: his uniform, jacket, cap, cleats, photos, and a bat—emblematic of a consistent and superb hitter who won four batting titles and collected 3,000 hits.

These days, Latinos and Hispanics make up anywhere from a quarter to a third of players in major league baseball. But Clemente was the first superstar of the group. What this proud and sensitive man had to endure from the media then was shameful and would not be tolerated today.

It took a while for Clemente’s skills to be noticed in a bumper crop among a bumper crop of contemporary outfielders that included Willie Mays, Henry Aaron, Mickey Mantle, and Frank Robinson, but eventually his performance at the plate and on the field in the 1971 World Series exposed to a nationwide audience the greatness that so many in baseball had recognized since his debut in 1955.

His statistics and leadership had already made Clemente a basement legend. 

But his death on board a plane carrying supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua during the Christmas season of 1972 lifted him to the status of role model and icon, much like the New York Yankees’ Lou Gehrig—the only other player that Cooperstown’s Hall of Fame board explicitly waived its five-year rule for consideration to major league baseball’s Valhalla.

Photo of the Day: A Hero and His Bridge, Pittsburgh PA

Forty-seven years ago this coming Tuesday, Roberto Clemente, Hall of Fame outfielder for the Pittsburgh Pirates, died in a plane crash on a mission to deliver aid to earthquake victims in Nicaragua. Pittsburgh renamed its Sixth Street Bridge crossing the Allegheny River to honor this stellar player and humanitarian in 1998.

While visiting the city this past October, I photographed this bronze statue of Clemente with the bridge in the background. The statue, by the way, created by sculptor Susan Wagner, stands just outside PNC Park, the Pirates’ home.

Too often, our society boosts its most boastful, selfish and cruel members. It’s worthwhile to remember someone like Clemente who embodied the exact antithesis of that tendency during this season ostensibly devoted to giving.

Photo of the Day: Pirates’ Shrine

Fans of the Pittsburgh Pirates are experiencing emotions they haven’t felt at least in a generation, maybe ever. Oh, they’ve felt revulsion over post-All Star Game slides these last few years. Older fans are even old enough to recall when Barry Bonds, pre-PED, helped keep them competitive into October.

Before this season, fans would have celebrated the team’s first winning record and playoff appearance since 1992. But at this point, why be excited about a wild-card berth when so much more was potentially within their grasp—first place in the Central Division?

As the Pirate faithful look to the playoffs, many have undoubtedly taken to imploring otherworldly powers. And who better for this than their homegrown version of a saint?

I have already written about the Pirates’ statues of Honus Wagner and Willie Stargell. But as superb as their diamond accomplishments were, and as substantial as their clubhouse contributions, they pale next to Roberto Clemente.

The Hall of Fame right fielder did more than just get many timely home runs and throw runners out with his howitzer arm. As the major leagues’ first Latino superstar, he set an example of fierce pride and intensity that subsequent generations would follow. And he transcended the game when he died on a humanitarian plane flight to earthquake-ravaged Nicaragua in 1972.

Clemente has come to resonate as something like a saint for so many people because he embodied the values of loyalty and self-sacrifice. The contrast with contemporary athletes is marked, starting with Alex Rodriguez. A-Rod, as much as any contemporary player, is a brand—a fact that reaches its nadir in the recent New York Times story that notes that the team of ambulance chasers, flacks and shameless shamuses trying to overturn his unprecedentedly long suspension is named ARod Corp.

In one sense, even though I’m a Yankee fan, I’m fine with the thought that they didn’t make the playoffs (even with two wild cards) this year. That appearance would have been tainted by the idea that the Bombers benefited from, as John Sterling poetically puts it, “an A-bomb from A-Rod.”

At this point, the idea of a plaque to A-Rod (or to Roger Clemens, who notched his 300^th victory with the Yankees) is obscene. (If it ever came to pass, a syringe sticking out of their hides would be appropriate.)

Such is not the case with Clemente. In an era when idols are torn down, his name not only remains unsullied, but has grown in stature, as more and more people realize the toll on his body by nagging injuries and the toll on his spirit by an uncomprehending, at times prejudiced, press corps. The Pirates’ statue in his honor was transported from Three Rivers Stadium to its new home, outside PNC Park, like a holy relic.

The bronze sculpture, by local artist Susan Wagner, now stands behind center field in the Pirates’ latest home. Fans will see this piece of art as they drive to the stadium over a bridge named after the great hitter.