Category Archives: Pittsburgh
Things that are “uniquely Yinz”
Nostra-thomas predicts the Pirates 2012 season
So excited for opening day tomorrow. Got my tickets. Taking the day off. Weather is said to be mid-50s and sunny. I’ll take it, along with a jacket. For a huge baseball fan like myself, it’s a bit like Christmas Eve: lots of breathless anticipation, only to be followed by a cold blast of disappointment, dysfunction, and dejection. (Remember, the only two teams I’ve ever been a fan of are the Cubs and Pirates.) Nevertheless, today’s euphoria will not be squelched.
This week, I discovered something outstanding about myself. I’m clairvoyant. I’m a seer. Maybe not Jimmy the Greek, but definitely Carpetbagger the equal parts Scotch/English/German/Swede.
With Opening Day upon us, I knew that some sort of season preview was in order. So, I took a quick peek at the one I did last year. On April 1, 2011, I was feeling pretty good about the Buccos. Here’s what I wrote in that post:
I am saying that if the Pirates can improve their home wins by 5 and win just a third of their road games, that would be a 15-game improvement and a record of… 72-90. It’s not .500 yet, but a fifteen-game improvement would be a big deal.
Call me gobsmacked, but the Pirates record at the end of the 2011 season was exactly 72-90! Why isn’t this a bigger deal? Look, I don’t mean to blow my own horn… that’s why I’ve lined up ten Swiss dudes to do that for me.
You’re damn tootin’. Thus, it’s with a perfect record and all the pressure that comes with that kind of perfection that I give you my take on the Buccos, circa 2012.
This is a Turning Point Year
Last year, I was pleased to see them extend General Manager Neal Huntington for one more year. With the kind of rebuilding he was faced with when hired in September of 2007, the results weren’t going to show up in PNC Park until four or five years later. Well, this is year five. This is the year all the youth needs to show some fruit. This is the year they need to make a serious run at the record-breakingly elusive .500 mark. This must be the year. If not, if the team remains stagnant or goes backward, I fear that patience may run out and we may be looking at starting all over again.
Last year was a weird one. At season’s end, there just wasn’t the sort of optimism that should accompany a 15-game season improvement. That’s because May, June, and July were so awesome, and August sucked SOOO bad. The Pirates were 47-43 and in first place at the All-Star break, but a woeful 25-47 from there on. They were a red-hot 16-11 in June. But an embarrassingly bad 8-22 in August. This left fans wondering, who are we? Are we the scrappy, competitive team of the first half? I mean, there was at least 60 days worth of evidence that this team could play ball. Or, are we the Bad News Bears of the second half? Are we a collection of young players who are still learning to be pros? Are they going to be streaky and then wear out in the heat of August when they go far beyond the number of games they’re used to playing in a season? If so, maybe this year they will be better prepared for a big league season. Or, were they playing over their heads for two months, and August and September were the painful reality? We are about to find out the answer to those questions.
Reasons for Optimism
The League. The 2012 Pirates are a better team on day one than the were last year. And, the National League is much worse than it was last year. Star thumpers like Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder have gone to the AL. Ryan Howard will be out until at least June. Last year’s MVP Ryan Braun is going to be brutalized Barry Bonds-style in ever ballpark he goes to after testing positive for PEDs and getting off on a technicality. All of this makes the league a wide open affair. Plus, baseball is adding a fifth playoff team to each league this year, meaning that a lot more teams are going to be in the pennant race come September.
The K factor. Last year’s pitching staff was dead last in the league in strike outs. This must change. Enter two strike-out-throwing free agent starters: Erik Bedard and A. J. Burnett. Bedard’s contract is equivalent to the departing Paul Maholm. And the Yankees are picking up most of Burnett’s contract. These were low risk/high reward signings, the kind of thing you must do as a low-market team. Plus, Burnett won 2 World Series games for the Yankees. Just having him in the dugout has got to be a plus for the rest of the staff.
No Mas Cedeno. Clint Barmes is a huge upgrade at shortstop. His average will be similar to Cedeno’s, but Barmes has more home run power and is MUCH better defensively. This will help ground ball pitchers like Morton and Correia.
Cutch! The Pirates locked up Andrew McCutchen with a long-term deal. Go ahead and buy those jerseys, because there will be no talk of the Buccos unloading him for prospects. Don’t know if they’ll have enough left to do the same thing with Neil Walker, but at least this much is done.
Bench upgrades. It may not be sexy, but the Pirates invested in two bench players who will have huge roles. Casey McGehee can play both corners and is a right hand hitter who can hit the lefties that Garrett Jones and Pedro Alvarez can’t. And if Nate McLouth can regain the form he had before being dealt to the Braves, they will have a solid fourth outfielder who could be starting on many teams.
How do you spell RELIEF? The Pirates’ bullpen had a good year in 2011. Guys like Evan Meek, Chris Leroux, and Jason Grilli have great strikeout potential, and Joel Hanrahan has shown no signs of slowing down. We’ll miss Jose Veras (traded for McGehee), but if Meek stays healthy, he can fill the set-up role equally well. Juan Cruz may be a surprise, as well.
Youth will be served. The young Pirates need to keep improving. There can be no retreat for guys like Presley and Tabata. Matt Hague tore it up in Spring Training and earned himself a spot on the roster. Gorkys Hernandez also raked in the Spring, but is back in Indianapolis where he can play the outfield every day. But if Jose Tabata starts pulling hamstrings again this year, Gorkys will be up with the big boys before you can say “Andy Van Slyke.”
Reasons to worry
Vote for Pedro! Neal Huntington’s future may very well be forever tied to one Pedro Manuel Alvarez. I loved it when the Pirates selected him with the 2nd overall pick in the first round of the 2008 amateur draft. He wasn’t some high school kid who wouldn’t develop. He wasn’t a pitcher whose elbow will blow out in AA ball. He was a big-time college hitter in the SEC. After skipping Matt Wieters for Daniel Moskos the year before out of a fear they couldn’t pay, the Pirates stepped up and signed him. This was how the Tampa Bay Rays do things: draft talent, develop it, and wait for it to come to fruition. Then, Pirates fans watched in horror as Pedro got worse and worse and worse. It would be one thing if he was a .250 hitter with 10 HRs. But no, Pedro Alvarez was arguably the worst hitter in all of baseball last year, hitting .191 in 235 at bats, with only 4 HRs and 19 RBIs — all this while making a cool $2 million a year. Hell, I could do the same thing and be willing to take half that amount! This has been a disaster, so far. It has to be in his head, right? I mean, I know he is battling the bulge, but so did Tony Gwynn and Kirby Puckett, but they never stopped hitting. The Pirates are stuck with this problem. They are going to have to pay him this year, but have a team option next year.
Starting Pitching. This was the downfall last year. Pirate starters got lit up in the second half. Morton and Karstens battled injuries. Correia was the epitome of mediocrity. McDonald was good for five or six innings, but then the implosion came. They were dead last in the National League in strike outs and hits allowed. Gone is innings eater Maholm. Enter Bedard, a good strike out guy, but also an injury-prone pitcher who has been unable to rack up 130 innings in a season since 2007. As I said above, A. J. Burnett is a no-brainer risk. You know he has the talent. He faltered a bit the past two seasons in the Big Apple, but he still had double-digit wins and lots of strike outs. Unfortunately, he broke an orbital bone while bunting this Spring and probably won’t pitch until the end of May. That’s sort of like buying a new car and crashing it as you leave the lot. I’m not worried. It’s not his legs or his arm. He’ll be fine, but Morton, Correia, and McDonald are going to have to step it up.
A Second Star. Andrew McCutchen needs company as a marquee player. In fact, I’d rather see him with a high average and less home runs. I believe he began to slump last year when he realized he had to carry the team. The Pirates’ young players have to get better. Neil Walker has to continue to emerge as a star. Jose Tabata and Alex Presley must pick up where they left off. If any of these guys come out slow or look like they are regressing, it could lead to very bad things.
Well, that’s it. It’s a mixed bag of the good, the bad, and this could get ugly. But what do you expect with the Pirates?
Prediction Time: Here we go. I can’t help but feel optimistic in April. Here’s my thinking. The Buccos were 36-45 both at home and on the road last year. This year, I’d like to think that the Pirates could equal last year’s road record while improving to .500 ball at home –which they did in 2010. That’s a five-game improvement from last year and a 77-85 record. Problem is, I don’t know if that’s enough to save Neal Huntington’s job. How much patience will Pittsburgh have with a below-.500 team, even if it is improving?
All I know is I will be there tomorrow. The grass will be green, the sun will be in the sky, the Phillies will be booed mercilessly, and all will be right with the world.
Happy Opening Day.
Uniquely Yinz: Conflict Kitchen
We’re doing some Spring cleaning here at Carpetbaggery. Basically, I had grown tired of looking at my own site, so it was time for a change. Easier said than done. I’m not crazy about all of this, either. Unfortunately, Word Press doesn’t let you work on it offline. (At least I couldn’t figure out how to do so.) You have to pick a theme — the blog colors and layout — and activate it before you can tweak. So, I’ll be tweaking in the days to come.
I’m also breaking out a new occasional meme: Uniquely Yinz. From time to time, I’m going to check off some bucket list things to do around Pittsburgh. For those who come here from far away (shout out to my readers in England and Russia!), “Yinz” is the ‘Burgh equivalent of “ya’ll” or “youse guys.” It’s all ours, and so are the things I hope to highlight in Uniquely Yinz.
On Saturday, I was off to Home Depot in East Liberty to get (full disclosure) a new toilet seat. Splurged for a real fancy one that closes automatically with a little push. I figure, I’m fifty now, why not live a little, right?
Besides the Home Depot, East Liberty is also home to a fascinating little walk-up window restaurant called Conflict Kitchen. It was started by, and shares the space with, the same folks who also run The Waffle Shop, a late night/weekend afternoon waffle restaurant and Web-based TV show. (That’s probably a post for another day.) The idea behind Conflict Kitchen is to feature cuisine only from countries who are currently in direct conflict with the United States. They develop the menu by establishing contact with restaurants in those countries, as well as with folks in Pittsburgh from those areas. The menu and country changes every six months or so. In the past, they have featured food from Afghanistan and Venezuela. It’s one of those places I’ve always intended to go to, but never did. On Friday, I saw their name in the Post-Gazette. My first fear was that they were closing. I was happy to read that they recently received a grant from Pittsburgh’s Sprout Fund to relocate downtown, since they (and the Waffle Shop) are losing their East Liberty lease in the next few months. They hope to take over a closed fast-food joint in the Golden Triangle and feature the food of either North Korea or Cuba. Right now, however, the featured country is Iran, and the dish is the kubideh.
War tends to dehumanize the enemy so that Americans won’t feel so bad when our drones drop cluster bombs on them. The hope is that by engaging with the cultures and people of these countries, we may actually view them (the people, not their government) as fellow human beings, and even friends. Conflict Kitchen also holds cross-cultural events to further build understanding. Last June, they held a Skype dinner that connected Conflict Kitchen with a meal held simultaneously in Tehran. Participation was open to anyone who made reservations. Together, diners in Pittsburgh and Tehran ate the same food and engaged in conversation. Here’s a picture of that night from their Website, more can be found here. On my visit, the very helpful server dude in the window said they plan to do another one of these again soon.
So, how’s Iranian food taste? The kubideh is a delicious little morsel. For five bucks, it features spiced (but not hot) ground beef in wonderful homemade barbari bread. Barbari is a toastier and breadier version of a pita. It’s garnished with a mix of basil, mint, and onion. The flavors were great. A little mint is an underrated meat accompaniment in this country. Texture-wise, it could have used a little sauce, perhaps a tahini or yogurt of some kind. But that’s just me. I’m assuming that the traditional kubideh in Iran comes as they serve it. They also feature a vegetarian dish called the kookoo sabzi, which is a vegetable egg souffle.
Their meals always include a wrap highlighting information about the food, religion, clothing, art, and other aspects of daily life in the featured country. As you can see from my somewhat blurry pic, 
it’s a lot to take in. I plan to read it in the days to come. Maybe I’ll put it beside my new toilet seat.
With only one item on the menu for months on end, this is a place I probably won’t get back to all that often, but I’m soooo glad it exists. Their hours in the winter are limited to 11:30am to 2:30pm on weekends, but on April 1, they open seven days a week. If you’re in town, you can find them at 124 S. Highland Ave. Whenever it happens, I hope their move downtown delivers a lot more lunchtime foot traffic. You can’t beat the combination of new flavors, education, and cultural exchange. There is so much to love about this place.
There’s probably a joke to be inserted here about having to try out that newfangled toilet seat of mine, but Carpetbaggery is way too classy to go there.
Trains, planes, and… bicycles?
I used to be a more avid cycler. I’ve never gone on epic bike trips, but there was a day when I could pull off a 20- or 30-mile ride without a problem. Neither my aging body nor my aging bike are nearly as trustworthy these days. I’ve pretty much been limited to short rides on river trails. I did bike to PNC Park for a Pirates’ game last year. That’s 3.5 miles each way. Not far, but I didn’t really enjoy the ride home at 10:30 p.m.
Pittsburgh is a city that loves them some bikes. I’m for the promotion of all forms of transportation that do not involve one person in a combustion-engine vehicle. I’ve long advocated–and blogged–for Pittsburgh to develop a long-range plan for light rail, and for the nation to develop a high-speed rail system.
This week, my eye brows arched when I read that a 6.3 mile bike trail had been completed connecting the Montour Trail with Pittsburgh International Airport. It got me wondering… biking? to the airport? Is that a thing? Was this a need? Can you even do that?
Actually, this plan has been in the works for 10 years now. It was sort of back-burnered by Homeland Security after 9/11 because, you know, all those terrorists on bikes, I guess. All you have to do is load up a Huffy with enough C-4 and I’m sure you could do some real damage??? Maybe? (That sentence definitely landed me on a list somewhere.)
But now the trail is complete. Now you can bike your way to the airport. They have racks and everything.
As you can see, one section of the trail actually goes through the high-security zone of the airport. Yeah, it’s the one that casually loops by Runway 10L.
Quick Tip: This is not a section where you should wander off to pick daisies or find a convenient “relief tree.” Take it from a Montour Trail board member, who said, “Unless you have a thing for cavity searches, you might want to pay special attention to this one.” Yikes. No gel seat in the world is going to make you feel better after that.
So, it doesn’t seem like they are encouraging casual riders to take this trip. It seems as though they believe actual air travelers are going to use it. Which makes me ponder… how do you bike to the airport? Here, as I see it, are your options:
Take your bike on vacation (or business trip?) with you. You can even pack it into a suitcase. Just don’t get in front of me in the security line.
Or, here is a more traditional version of a bike that totes its own luggage. (Why am I hearing Wicked Witch of the West music?)
But what about my luggage? I’m not flying anywhere without my wardrobe, hair product, and beauty aides, dontchya-know.
Simple: you just need a little cart. Yeah, little is right. Believe me, Mrs. Carpetbagger would need a bigger cart. Love her. But not the lightest packer, that one. Of course, I’m no backpacker, either.
Then, do you wear all that Lycra on the plane? Kind of itchy, no?
All in all, it was a rather low-budget project. According to the Post-Gazette, “A $57,000 grant from the Allegheny Regional Asset District paid for construction of a section of new trail in the airport parking lot and a pedestrian signal where it crosses Airport Boulevard.” That’s a lot less than the $9 mil it cost to put in the Hot Metal Bridge bike connection on the South Side.
Still, I wonder if this is going to catch on. Personally, at this point in my life, I’m afraid that biking to a flight is a little more adventure than I need in one day.
What say you? Are you willing to go like Lance Armstrong to your next flight?
When you’re here, you’re family
I don’t really have strong feelings about the Olive Garden restaurants. To me, they kind of mirror suburbia. Their not real authentic and kind of bland, but they’re safe. I recently heard it said that Mitt Romney resembles a real American in the same way that the Olive Garden resembles life in Italy. Not sure if that’s a bigger shot at Romney or the Olive Garden. What most people talk about when going to an Olive Garden is the never-ending salad bowl and the bread sticks. I ask you, where else in your life do you ever desire a never-ending salad? And if you keep craving more, I swear they must be slipping MSG in there somewhere. And bread sticks? Okay. You never hear much about the pasta.
In the past week, the ol’ OG has been in the headlines twice. Relax, OG, neither puts you in a negative light. In fact, one puts you in quite the rosy glow.
Four Stars
First was the restaurant review in the Grand Forks Herald. I’m not saying that things are slow up there in North Dakota, but apparently, they’ve been patiently waiting for this Olive Garden to arrive, and mmmm, boy, was it worth the wait! The review was written by Marilyn Hagerty, an adorable octogenarian who takes her assignment very seriously, as she should. Her review covers the entryway to the exit. No slipping anything past Marilyn, “The place is impressive. It’s fashioned in Tuscan farmhouse style with a welcoming entryway. There is seating for those who are waiting.” That’s right, if you have to wait for a table, you can sit. Don’t underestimate how important this fact is to Marilyn’s peers in the canasta club.
I studied the two manageable menus offering appetizers, soups and salads, grilled sandwiches, pizza, classic dishes, chicken and seafood and filled pastas. At length, I asked my server what she would recommend. She suggested chicken Alfredo, and I went with that. Instead of the raspberry lemonade she suggested, I drank water.
Do you think she spared us the server’s eye roll? Or maybe she just didn’t notice it. I can’t be sure, but I do believe that suggesting chicken Alfredo is restaurant code for “It’s all the same. I can’t believe they gave me another table. Will you just frickin’ order already!! I have to go on break!” And if you’re reviewing a restaurant, by all means, forgo the fancy lemonade drink and just have water. Come on, Marilyn, I’m sure the paper is footing the bill!
Olive Garden has an attractive bar area to the right of the entryway. The restaurant has a full liquor license and a wine list…
Do I detect subtle disapproval in Marilyn’s tone there? And are there half liquor licenses? So many questions. I don’t mean to give her a hard time. The review has gone viral online. It even spawned an article by her son, a Wall Street Journal reporter, called “When Mom Goes Viral.” Awesome.
It’s not you; it’s me
The second OG story happened right here in Pittsburgh, and I can’t believe it wasn’t a bigger deal. Well, not really. It happened in Orlando, but it involved people from Pittsburgh.
And I want to say, just for the record, that I have never broken up with a girl at a fancy restaurant in hopes that she wouldn’t “make a scene” in a fancy place. Just want to get that out there. But I’ve heard it happens.
Just as I’m not sure what to think about Olive Garden, I’m also not sure what to think of this Arena Football League. But it’s a thing. I’ve never been to a game, but I imagine that it would be some kind of cross between indoor soccer and a Madden video game. It’s played indoors on a 50-yard field. There are sideline boards like in hockey. Everyone but the kicker and quarterback plays both offense and defense. There are nets to ricochet kicks back onto the field as live balls. Multiple backs and receivers can run around before the snap just like *gulp* Canadian football. And the players… well, let’s just say that these are the guys who couldn’t make it in the NFL or *gulp* Canadian football. If there was a single-A level of football, this would be it. But the folks in the Arena League are always quick to remind you, “Super Bowl champion quarterback Kurt Warner played here!” Of course, he had to bag groceries on the side to make ends meet.
Well, it seems that Pittsburgh has a team. You don’t hear much about them. They’re called the Power, or, in Pittsburghese, Pahr. They were in Orlando to play the Predators for the opening week of the team’s second-ever season. Despite being a rather low-budget league, the team owner, Matt Shaner, took the entire roster to the Olive Garden for a pre-game meal. Class move. But shouldn’t this have raised some concern? I used to play football. An Olive Garden pre-game meal would have been deposited on the field before the end of the first quarter.
Somewhere during the meal, the owner stood up to address the team. In stirring Vince Lombardi fashion, he fired the entire roster right there over the bread sticks and never-ending salad. I’m sure this provided a quandary for the players. Do you stay and awkwardly finish your free meal? Of course not, you just got fired. Get out of there. Yeah, but the bread sticks…
“Mid-statement, all the players got up and left,” former Power center Beau Elliott told the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. “Every player got up and left while he was still talking. There were 15 to 20 angry, large individuals.”
It was a preemptive strike by the Power as the player’s union considers calling for a work stoppage. The union wants a 300% increase in the players $400 game checks. The owners countered with a 25% increase.
Here’s the deal, though. The Power took the field with replacement players and won the game. Of course, Orlando had done the same thing. A few players left the union and crossed the picket line, but mostly they were replacements. Both teams wore white uniforms with few names on the back.
Think about that. Replacements for Arena League players. Some of them arrived just before kickoff. A quarterback switched teams before the game after getting “drafted” during a pregame selection. Announcers on the NFL Network broadcast didn’t even have rosters to identify the players. We’ve got to be talking about weekend flag football guys, right? 
I keep picturing Keanu Reeves as Shane Falco at quarterback. Or was I the only one who saw that movie?
This does not bode well for the Arena Football League. They should probably just change the rules and turn it completely into Rollerball… or Roller Derby… or the Hunger Games. Have I told you that I like those books?
More salad?
Dear Hines, please retire
You know you’re getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces…And wonder what else you could do while you’re down there! — George Burns
This week, the Steelers rather unceremoniously cut ties with their all-time leading receiver.
Ah, look at Hines Ward during his college days at the University of Georgia. He doesn’t look that much different from today. He had no hair, even back then. But there’s the smile, the enthusiasm, the sincerity… all the things that make us love him today. Did you know that when he graduated college, it was discovered that he was completely missing an ACL in one of his knees? It had been taken out as a boy after a biking accident. He never knew it. And he still won Dancing with the Stars!
This season, most Steelers fans witnessed the gradual decline of Ward’s skills. At season’s end, he reached the 1000 reception mark only because Ben finally underhanded a pass to him. By the end, he wasn’t able to contribute at all. His ol’ body just couldn’t do the things he used to ask it to do. It’s an invisible problem for many athletes, especially if they are still in pretty good shape. Little by little, they just aren’t able to run as fast, jump as high, lift as much, or go as long. And the aches and pains require a lot more time to recover.
Hines will always be a legend in Pittsburgh. As long as he stays out of the mug shots, that will never change. But retirement for pro athletes, especially football players, is a hard gig. They miss the adrenalin. They miss the cheering. They miss the locker room camaraderie. Many of them deal with a lifetime of pain stemming from their careers. Some of them are tortured by the damage done to their brains. 
Last year, I was shocked and saddened when former Chicago Bear Dave Duerson took his own life. He was a great player and person. Many thought he could have gone into politics after his career. But he was also dealing with dementia, brought on by a career filled with under-diagnosed concussions. He took his life with a bullet to the chest so that his addled brain would be intact and available for medical research. So sad.
For the most part, however, players only have to deal with having to find a second career in their mid-thirties or early forties. Some thrive, others don’t.
It’s often awkward, however, when they near the end of their playing days. There’s nothing graceful about watching a lion go through the aging process. 
They desperately try to hang on, but all we see is them becoming a shell of what they used to be. It’s sad when our sporting heroes come to that point when they realize that they can’t do it anymore. It’s even sadder when others begin to realize it before they do. The worst is when they change teams in that desperate attempt to hang on. That almost never goes well.
It would have been nice if the Steelers could have negotiated one more year with Hines at a veteran’s minimum salary, thus saving 3+ million dollars toward the cap. But the team’s salary woes are so tight, they can’t even do that, especially with a player they no longer see as productive. Baseball can do that. Football can’t. The salary restrictions are just too tight.
Here’s hoping that Hines reflects on a great career and decides to hang up the cleats and retire. Here’s hoping he doesn’t have financial problems that force him to pathetically seek one more contract. Here’s hoping we don’t have to see him risking his future health by struggling in a Buffalo Bills uniform next year.
Here are some of the all-time saddest moves by players who were done, they just didn’t know it yet…
Bobby Hull and his toupee, skating for the Hartford Whalers…
Bobby Orr, old but at least rocking his own hair, and trying to eek out one more season with the Chicago Blackhawks
Johnny Unitas, looking totally out of place with the San Diego Chargers…
Joe Namath, hobbling without any knees for the Los Angeles Rams…
Wade Boggs, going from the classic Red Sox to one of the ugliest uniforms in the history of baseball…
Tony Dorsett, with the Broncos? They shoot lame horses, don’t they?…
Jerry Rice, not nearly as menacing in teal, was he?…
And the all-time worst: a pudgy, lethargic Michael Jordan, trying to pay off gambling debts with the Washington Wizards…
Hang ‘em up Hines. Coast for a few years until you get into the Hall of Fame. Go into acting or politics. Start a business. Make a mint on the corporate rubber-chicken-dinner speaking circuit. Maybe even coaching. Just don’t make us watch you hobble around for another year or two. Sure, someone would probably pay you. But will it really be worth it?
Steeler fans deal with disappointment in different ways
It’s horrible to think that one might actually empathize with Adolph Hitler. But damn, I know just how he feels.
As we throw dirt on another Steeler season, my mother sent me pics from the 2005 funeral of Jimmy Smith. Long-time Yinzers may be familiar with this but since it occurred three months before my arrival in town, I was not. This Alabama resident was such a Steelers fan that this is the way he wanted to go out.
Jimmy may be recently deceased but he’s looking good in his black and gold PJs while forgoing the coffin for an easy chair. And don’t miss the table. It holds his can of beer and a pack of Newports.
And what funeral would be complete without Steelers’ highlights playing on TV. Jimmy may be dead but he’s not going out to any sappy organ music. And I’m sure they’ve edited out all the negative plays, just like in heaven.
Plenty of room for mourners. Put on your best jersey. Wave your Terrible Towel. Jimmy is going home in style. He’s hanging with Myron Cope these days. Don’t feel sorry for him. Feel sorry for the rest of us who now must deal with the off-season, NBA basketball, and the month of February.
Repent! The end is near!
All right. It’s time to get off the 2012 posting schneid. The ol’ pendulum swung a little too far into vacation mode over the holidays, and then a little too far into back to work mode when they were over. Nevertheless, we are finally back.
Remember this guy?
His name is Rollen Stewart and throughout the late 70s, he showed up at nationally televised golf tournaments, NBA Finals, baseball and football games, and even Charles and Diane’s wedding. And despite the efforts by TV executives to exclude him, he would inevitably end up on screen at some point, acting all crazy and pointing at the slogan on his t-shirt. I guess he thought that everyone would run to their Bibles, look up that verse, and immediately fall to their knees. I wonder if that ever happened. I also remember wondering how Rollen had both the money and time to go to all those events.
In 1992, Stewart’s fervor turned felonious when he took a hotel maid hostage at a hotel near LAX. He offered to release her if he could have a few moments of airtime on every media network. He didn’t get his wish. When he threatened to start shooting at approaching airplanes, the patience of law enforcement ran out. His room was stormed; he was taken into custody; and he eventually received three consecutive life sentences.
Like most other Burghers, I subjected myself to the shock and awe of losing to the Tim Tebow-led Denver Broncos on Sunday. It was not as devastating to me as to the many life-long, live-and-die Stiller yinzers out there. My band wagon ticket was only punched back in 2005. But I know that life in Pittsburgh is that much more interesting when the Steelers are still winning. Any year that they fold up their tent before the Super Bowl makes for a longer, colder winter. (Even when the weather isn’t that much colder!) This is doubly troublesome when the Penguins continue to be concussed and mediocre. It’s not a good sign when Pittsburgh is looking forward to baseball season.
The irritation of losing was compounded by the obnoxious Tebow-files who insisted that by some sort of divine miracle, God Himself nudged the Broncos to victory. Now, I fully realize that probably 80% of this is just people having fun. Still, it seems to push actual devout faith into superstitious activities such as rain dancing, animal sacrifice, and talismans. It’s Rollen Stewart jumping in front of the television cameras all over again. It’s one thing when opponents of Christianity do this, but it’s quite another when evangelicals willingly go there, trying to use Tebow as some kind of supercharged commercial to better promote God before an unbelieving world. To think that his football performance would compel a doubter into full-throated praise of the Almighty.
Then there was his passing total: 316 yards (80 of which came on one play in overtime). Remember Rollen’s t-shirt? 316. It’s an omen (even though Christians aren’t supposed to believe in omens, but I digress). It suddenly became a Canton-worthy achievement. In regulation, Tebow was 9 for 20 for 236 yards. For any objective observer, those would be Rex Grossman-type numbers. But for Tebow-files, it was the football version of The Natural. Lights exploding. Sparks flying. Cue the sappy orchestra. Forget the fact that the Steelers’ running back had never run for 100 yards in a game in his life. Forget the fact that our QB was playing with a walker. Forget the fact that 2/3 of our defensive line limped off the field in the first quarter, taking away any kind of a pass rush. Forget the fact that our starting safety was in street clothes because Denver’s thin air took out his spleen the last time he played there. Forget the fact that the Steelers would have lost by 20 to a real quarterback. Forget all of that. Cue Tim’s final pose for the cameras.
Cue the Pittsburgh mayor paying off a lost bet…
Sour grapes from a Pittsburgh observer? Indeed. I fully admit it: I’m conflicted over the whole thing. I think it’s a religious bunch of man-made hooey. I think it’s a desperate attempt of some believers trying to grab a flukie football moment and say, “There! See? See what faith will do?” Only what about Troy Polamalu’s faith? What about all the tragedy that occurred in the world while God was busy fixing the end of a football game? When Tim gets creamed by the Patriots next week, do we read anything about God into that? Probably not.
Of course, the other part of my conflicted dilemma is that on Sunday, I will be rooting for Tim Tebow to pray down miraculous fire from heaven to smote the evil, Satan-worshipping New England Patriots. You know I will. I’ll be pulling for that miracle like every other Bible thumper who pins God’s reputation on Tim Tebow’s 5-cent arm.
God, help me. Please make it stop.
Addendum: This was post number 327 on Carpetbaggery. Can you imagine if it had been 316? So close. That would have truly been a sign.
The curious case of Ray Gricar
On Friday, April 15, 2005, Ray Gricar took the day off. At 11:30 a.m., he called his girlfriend and roommate, Patti, to inform her of his plans to drive up Pennsylvania Route 192 toward nearby Lewisburg. This was not unusual. Gricar had gone there on several occasions to shop at an antique shop. It was about an hour and a half from his home in Bellefonte, a “suburb” of State College, PA.
Ray Gricar was never seen again. When he failed to come home that evening, Patti called his mobile but there was no answer. Then, she called the police to report him missing.
Ray Gricar, 59, was no ordinary Joe. He had spent the past 20 years as the esteemed district attorney of Pennsylvania’s Centre County and was planning to retire at the end of the year. He was known as a hard-nosed DA who was beholden to no one. He was not a politician. Ray’s was a good life. His career had been a success, with no hints of scandal or impropriety. He had a great relationship with a woman who worked in his office. He also enjoyed a close relationship with his 27-year-old daughter, Lara.
On Saturday, Gricar’s red and white 2004 Mini Cooper was found locked and abandoned in the Lewisburg antique store parking lot near the Susquehanna River. Ray had been what one might call “fastidious” about that car. It was always pristine. No one was allowed to eat or smoke in it. Although there was no sign of foul play or struggle, police noticed the strong smell of cigarette smoke when they opened the door. A tiny amount of cigarette ash was found on the passenger side. Ray did not smoke. 
Ray’s cell phone was inside but his keys and other personal effects were missing. Search dogs were unable to pick up any scent. Police searched his home and found nothing suspicious, except for the fact that his laptop computer was missing.
In July, fishermen discovered Ray’s missing laptop lodged against a support beneath a bridge. After spending three months in the river, it was completely destroyed. But its hard drive had been removed. Two months later, a hiker discovered the hard drive near a railroad bridge about a half mile from where Ray’s car had been found. It, too, was completely destroyed. No evidence of Ray was ever found.
Police search the Susquehanna River in 2005
On the fourth anniversary of his disappearance, investigators revealed that a search of Ray’s home computer were able to yield a history of Internet searches for the phrase “how to wreck a hard drive.”
Ray Gricar was declared legally dead this past July. The ruling was an administrative step more than an investigative one. Ray was twice divorced and Lara, his only child, sought the death declaration so she could finally settle his estate.
Six years later, Ray’s family has still not given up in their efforts to find up what happened to him. Most assume one of three possibilities:
WALKAWAY
Some people have been known to arrange their own disappearance to start a new life. But this usually happens when money is owed, relationships are crumbling, or scandal is afoot. And besides, Ray was due to retire at the end of 2005. He could have done anything he wanted.
SUICIDE
Ray’s brother Roy had committed suicide in 1996 in Dayton, Ohio, by jumping into the Great Miami River. In fact, the scenarios were eerily alike. Both men left a car near a bridge in almost identical fashions. Roy, however, had suffered from bi-polar disorder and had recently been laid off. He also couldn’t swim and was afraid of the water. Ray, on the other hand, had no such afflictions and his life was going great. More important, the drop from a nearby bridge to the river below was only 25 feet. Not a fatal drop. And Ray was an able swimmer. Of course, there’s also the fact that Roy’s body was eventually discovered.
FOUL PLAY
At the time of his disappearance, Ray was in midst of prosecuting the largest drug bust in central Pennsylvania history. It was a heroin deal but compared to other large cities, the amount of drugs involved was not considered to be that significant. Not the kind of stakes that would make a prosecutor like Ray enter the witness protection program, and not the kind of case that would call for the “offing” of a prosecutor. Still, Lara’s lawyer believes that, for whatever reason, Ray was murdered: “I can’t believe that he would have spent the last six years causing his family to be in the real purgatory that they have been in,” he said. “If he were alive, he would’ve contacted his family.”
The case was a complete mystery. There was just nothing going on in Ray’s life that involved anyone or anything powerful enough to arrange for his complete disappearance.
Oh, there was one other case Ray had been involved in. In 1998, since Centre County is home to Penn State University, he had attempted to bring child rape charges against former Nittany Lion defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky. He even had a taped confession of Sandusky admitting wrong-doing to the mother of the victim. But the case never went to trial. No one knows why. Some thought he was intimidated by taking on such a community icon. But family members and coworkers agree that Ray would never have backed down if he thought he had a strong enough case for conviction. They also say that the whole thing had left a “bitter taste in his mouth” for the Penn State program and for Sandusky.
How and why does a 59-year-old pros
ecutor with 20 years in elective office, a stellar reputation, no known personal troubles, and looming retirement plans just disappear without any signs of trouble, distress, or scandal? Just a medium-sized, pending drug case and a past potential university scandal that went nowhere.
Just disappeared into thin air. Like you do. Of course, there is no evidence linking Ray’s disappearance to the current Penn State scandal. No evidence whatsoever. None. Not a stitch. It remains just a big, fat, curious coincidence.
I’m not sayin’; I’m just sayin’.
(I’m not alone on this. The New York Times is also weighing in on the mystery.)
Holy Doughboy, Batman, we’re in Lawrenceville!
Pittsburgh is officially Batman crazy this month. It could be the fact that Christian Bale is in town. It could be that the crews are going to make snow fall, cars crash, and lots of things blow up. As Bale said yesterday, “There’s going to be fighting on your streets.” Or it could be the local laser company–with no official capacity with the film–who are projecting a large bat from a hotel window to the Highmark Building.
So, imagine my surprise when I discovered that Pittsburgh filming begins today right behind my house! We live on 42nd St. The production has completely shut down 41st St north of Butler St. One of the brick row houses has been taken over and completely transformed into the home of a Gotham City judge, complete with Gotham cabs and a snowy street.
All the neighbors on the street have been 86ed like some alien invasion had occurred. In their place are a bunch of used cars and two Gotham cabs. One neighbor said he had to move all his outdoor plants and hanging baskets because it is supposed to be winter in the film.
It all started last week when a rather feral parking lot was cleaned up and the fence torn down. Then, one white truck showed up. Then, another. Then, a small crane. Soon, crews were working at setting up electric and lighting and other production pieces. It looked like a film crew, but with three or four semi trucks and a crane, it didn’t look like that big a production. And besides, where would Batman be filming in this neighborhood??
They were calling the production Magnus Rex as sort of code word for “Batman!” This weekend, news started to break that filming for Batman in Pittsburgh would begin this week and I started putting 2 and 2 together. I still didn’t really think that Batman would be filming on 41st St in Lawrenceville! But sure enough. That’s the gig. More and more trucks and equipment showed up each day. Last night, barricades started showing up on street corners. Yeah, something was going down.
Belle the Dog and I took a walk down the street yesterday while it was still open. She was completely disinterested until I told her about Cat Woman. Now, she’s all ears… and a nose. She is all hyper vigilant about any kind of feline presence whatsoever. (And No!, she’s not peeing on the cab.)
This morning, a large RV and dressing rooms filled the alley. Crews, catering, and extras began to flood the area. I went to work this morning, but by the time I walked Belle back to the “set” it was obvious that snow had been used.
See the piles of snow? They are filming up the street at the second brick house on the right. They all seemed to be at lunch when I arrived. Then Director Christopher Nolan and his kids went by.
I was going to crop out the kids, but the picture is far enough away that you can’t recognize them. This was big for me. Bigger than seeing Bale. This guy directed Inception, for Pete’s sake. He actually walked by around 5 feet from Belle the Dog and me. Neither one of us were “discovered.” Bummer. Belle had her little heart set on a film career .
Love all their electrical wires running through the alleys and crawl spaces of Lawrenceville. Sorry, no shots of movie stars or caped crusaders in rubber suits. Just grips and production assistants and a quick brush with a rather famous director. I think it’s all over by 11:00 p.m. tonight. Then, they move to blow stuff up in Oakland or downtown. Still, I look forward to seeing our humble neighborhood on the big screen in the summer of 2012.
Sunday night @ Jambone’s
Spent Sunday night at one of my new favorite events. It’s truly a best-kept Pittsburgh secret. I know I mentioned this in a blog back in May, but I went again on Sunday night and I feel it deserves its own post.
For the uninitiated, Hambone’s is a long-time dive bar on Butler Street in Lawrenceville that is literally just around the corner from our house. It’s always been a shot-and-a-beer joint with typical bar food fare. It’s the kind of place we’d go to if there were no other alternatives. One of Mrs. ‘Bagger’s favorite Pittsburgh stories was eating dinner there just after we moved to the neighborhood (4-5 years ago). Don’t know where I was but she decided to risk dinner there. The waitress was so drunk, she had to be replaced halfway through the meal. Kind of like sending in a relief pitcher.
Hambone’s has gone thru changes. Not sure of all the details. I’m pretty sure that the ownership is the same but there is new management. They’ve upgraded the menu a bit and are trying some unique events to draw a new crowd. One of them is a Sunday night jazz open mic night organized by Tania Grubbs and Daniel May. Sounds weird and a little lame? It’s not.
First of all, there’s the band. It’s basically a trio of some of the best musicians I’ve ever heard. Daniel May is simply a jazz savant on keyboard. Jeff Grubbs on stand-up bass is sublime. (His day job is playing double bass for the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, so the guy has some chops.) The drummer has been different each time, but they’ve all been stellar. Basically they can play any song in any key in any style with no sheet music or rehearsal. They never miss a beat or a chord change. Sometimes they ask people to sing a few bars and they figure it out.
This night is then an open mic for anyone who wants to sing some jazz/swing/standards. One thing I love about the evening is the diversity. Diversity in race (if you count a half black/half white room diversity), diversity in age (20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and 60s), and diversity in talent. I’ll say this right off: some of the singers are amateur neighborhood wanna-bes, but others are incredibly talented vocalists who enjoy singing with a hot band. Second thing I love about the evening is how supportive everyone is for all the singers. Several of the singers are regulars who show up every time. But you never know who will walk in the door. Last night, one of the extreme amateurs was a DNA scientist from CMU who sang the “One Note Samba.” Even though his tone was soft and his pitch wavered at times, there was no doubting his passion. Same for Woody and Jack, two sixty-somethings who crooned their favorites. Others were downright amazing. I can’t remember all their names. One was a rather mousey-looking woman with a squeaky speaking voice who sang like Billie Holiday. Another young blond woman with short-cropped hair and an armful of tattoos sang “Summertime” like a cross between Diana Krall and Eva Cassidy. Some instrumentalists sit in, too. A Miles Davis trumpet. A gypsy-sounding fiddle.
It feels a bit like some sort of Bohemian music salon you might have found in Paris during the thirties, when jazz thrived there. I even love the amateurs. They make it possible for anyone to think about giving it a try. And this is no drunken Karaoke night. These people are passionate about this music. And they are getting a chance to do it backed by the best musicians they will ever sing with. And the band is amazingly patient and supportive. When you mix up the passion, the supportive community, the jaw-dropping trio, and a few cocktails, it is a night that just makes me smile. And to think that it’s right there around the corner at Hambone’s. Who’d a thought it?
My goal is to get Mrs. Bagger up there some week in the not too distant future. She is a good singer but hasn’t done worked out the throat going on six years now. I think that with the right song, she could kill. It would be fun. Who knows, maybe I’ll give it a shot if I can find the proper jazz vocal that is baritone-friendly.
It’s from 7-10:30pm. During the summer, they have limited it to first and third Sundays, I think. Although July got them off because the first Sunday was Fourth of July weekend and they didn’t play. Hopefully they will go back to every Sunday in the fall. Anyhow, you’ll find me there the first Sunday in August. Come on by for a unique Pittsburgh treat.
