Much as with the mental collateral damage inflicted by girlfriends, thanks to Steelers fans, I know way, way too much about the Pirates. I don't care about the Pirates. I don't really care about baseball, for that matter. Yet there they are, taking up increasingly rare neurons.
I've come to appreciate the gallows humor with which Pittsburghers regard their truly lousy baseball team. The start of football training camp in July is annually hailed as the end of baseball season. On a report from training camp the other day, a reporter spoke of the scrimmage that the Steelers would hold in a local high school stadium. There's going to be a fireworks display afterward, he said, "And you don't even have to watch a Pirates game to see it."
The day before that, the Pittsburgh sports channel had about 20 minutes of coverage of the Steelers' camp in Latrobe, went to commercial, and then came back. The anchor's transition: "And now it's the part in the show where we must discuss the Pirates and their nine-game losing streak. But we don't want to, so let's go back to Latrobe."