Paul Skenes and The Curse Of The Eternal Rebuild

Last June, Paul Skenes' debut with the Pirates was met with an unusual reaction from Bucco's fans—a feeling of hope. Pirates fans, thoroughly jaded after 30 years of budget restraints, player losses, and seasons of terrible baseball, actually dared to dream. With Paul Skenes, they had a pitcher unlike any in recent memory. For the briefest of moments, Pirates fans allowed themselves visions of future Cy Young Awards and maybe, just maybe, some late-October heroics. Some held out hope that, after years of suffering, the baseball gods had finally smiled upon them and their rudderless franchise.

Sadly, for Pirates fans, hope is often a four-letter word. Over the past thirty seasons, any hope for real, long-term success has been repeatedly crushed by the penny-pinching ways of the team's tightfisted ownership.

Even last summer, during his rookie season, as Paul Skenes mowed down opposing batters with relative ease, a creeping sense of impending loss took hold among a certain percentage of the Pirates fan base. Instead of enjoying their star pitcher and confidently penciling him in as the ace of the Pirates' staff for the next 10–12 years, the first storm clouds formed over the bow of the S.S. Nutting.

“Give it 2.5 years!” exclaimed a Pirates fan in his mid 40's, as he walked across the Roberto Clemente Bridge on his way to PNC Park." Just wait until arbitration and free agency roll around—it’ll be the same old story from management: ‘Payroll’s tight. We are a small market. It’s time to trade for ‘prospects' while Skenes’ value is at its highest.’”

This fan was around in 1992, 1999, 2008, 2017, and 2018. "It's the same story over and over again," he bemoaned before disappearing into game day crowd. He wasn't mad, he wasn't sad, he just seemed numb to the reality and who could fault him?

I had intended to ask him why he keeps showing up, why he keeps spending his hard-earned money to support—no, subsidize—a billionaire owner like Bob Nutting, but I decided against it. I thought, "If this fan loves baseball enough to endure three decades of this abusive relationship with Pirates management, who am I to question him? Just leave the man alone."

These inevitable visions of a Paul Skenes-less future haunt Pirates fans because they've seen it all before—countless times. If MLB's economic framework continues as it has for the past thirty years, Paul Skenes' departure from Pittsburgh will most certainly play out in a familiar three-act structure.

Act I:

It’s July 2027. Paul Skenes, now a multi-time All-Star and a perennial Cy Young contender, is shipped off to Houston, New York, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, or another contender at the trade deadline. In return, the Pirates receive a bounty of prospects. Immediately following the trade, Pirates management assures long-suffering fans that the players acquired for Skenes will be major pieces of the next great Pirates team. They ask for patience, ignoring the fact that fans have exercised nothing but extreme patience for the past 35 years.

Act II:

The nightmare scenario offers no resolution or happy ending for Buccos fans. Without Skenes, the Pirates finish the season near or at the bottom of the NL Central. Most of the shiny prospects acquired in the trade are not ready to contribute at the MLB level, and those who are mostly fail to live up to expectations. Meanwhile, the team that added Paul Skenes at the deadline makes a deep playoff run with him as the de facto ace. Once again, Pirates fans are left watching and wondering, "What could have been?"

Act III:

The final act of this tragedy unfolds when Paul Skenes officially becomes a free agent following the 2029 season. It doesn’t take a vivid imagination to envision a smiling Skenes, dressed in Yankee pinstripes or Dodgers blue, being introduced as the newest member of one of the wealthy franchise. Pirates fans will be forced to watch as Skenes, now in his prime, becomes the highest-paid pitcher in the game and cements his place among the all-time greats. With each passing season, memories of Skenes as a Pirate will fade like a dream slipping away. It’s the baseball equivalent of having a dream, a dream where you finally are going on a long-awaited date with your crush, only to be woken up just before any magic happens. The dreamer is left with nothing but the unfulfilled thought of "What could have been."

But for Pirates fans, reality is worse... far worse—because in this reality, the dream girl (or guy) isn’t just gone; she’s now dating your best friend or even worse, your worst enemy.

This dystopian vision isn’t Pittsburgh paranoia, it’s history repeating itself, over and over again. It’s emblematic of the unfair economic system of baseball. The rich teams keep getting richer, while the so-called "poor" teams continue increasing their profits and franchise values with each passing year. Meanwhile, Bob Nutting, John Fisher, and the other "small market" owners, the ones who perpetually cry poverty, increase their fortunes on a yearly basis.

Pirates fans have every right to be jaded and possess an apocalyptic outlook to the nth degree. For the past 30 years, they have watched helplessly as star players like Barry Bonds, Doug Drabek, Bobby Bonilla, Jason Kendall, Andrew McCutchen, Starling Marte, Pedro Alvarez, Gerrit Cole, Josh Bell, Tyler Glasnow, Austin Meadows, and countless others rose through the Pirates’ minor league system, established themselves as stars, and were then jettisoned by trade or lost to free agency. For three decades, as star player after star player left the Steel City, fans could be heard grumbling, “Arghh, matey, there goes another.”

Rest assured, after the inevitable Paul Skenes trade, Pirates management will attempt to spin the deal in a positive light. They will once again assure their fans, “This time... this rebuild will be somehow different.”

The truth is, for the past 30 years, Pirates fans have seen and heard it all before. They understand that nothing is ever going to change as long as MLB's economic structure remains unchanged. Pirate fan's have long since accepted this depressing reality; it's a reality where hope is truly a four-letter word.

My mind then circles back to that middle-aged Pirates fan, the one crossing the Roberto Clemente Bridge before that evening's game. While I still regret not asking him why he supports a team whose ownership has repeatedly demonstrated that it has no real desire to even try to field a competitive team, I can almost hear his downtrodden response, (Insert your best pirate-style voice) “ARRRGHHH! This be the life of a Bucco's fan, matey.”

Submitted by Brian Michael