With gate off, is the game still on?
On Sept. 23, 1956, 44,932 “bug-eyed” fans (as Bob Prince would say) squeezed into Forbes Field, which had seating for only 34,249 of them.
How the Pirates managed to accompany a crowd that was better than 10,000 overcapacity can hardly be imagined. Where did those without seats stand? How much of the game did they see? Did some of them find room on the field, clogging the foul lines?
Why the club packed in so many people is clear enough: it was the last home game of the season. Not until April of the following year would the Pirates play before a paying crowd at home. There was money to be made.
The Pirates squared off against the defending World Series champions that day, the Brooklyn Dodgers, which may help explain why so many people made their way to the ballpark in Oakland.
The Dodgers were loaded with talent. No one quite knew it yet, but five Dodgers starting that Sunday afternoon were future Hall of Famers, beginning with Jackie Robinson. The others were pitcher Don Newcombe, catcher Roy Campanella, shortstop Pee Wee Reese, and center fielder Duke Snider.
In contrast, the Pirates were submerged in seventh place in the eight-team National League. They finished the year 22 games below .500.
Still, there was promise of better days ahead. The nucleus of the Pirates’ championship 1960 team was on the field: Dick Groat at short, Bill Mazeroski at second, Bob Skinner in left, Bill Virdon in center, and Roberto Clemente in right. Pitchers Vernon Law, Bob Friend, and Roy Face were also there, in uniform.
Promise doesn’t equal performance, however. It’s doubtful a great many people were lured to the game by the prospect of seeing Danny Kravitz or Dick Cole in action.
(The Pirates were actually pretty good the first half of the 1956 season, led by Dale Long’s eight consecutive game home run binge in May. He ended the year with 27, two ahead of third baseman Frank Thomas’s total.)
Maybe the main attraction were all the gifts the Pirates promised fans on Prize Day. If memory is correct, Prince promoted Prize Day like it was the Second Coming. He was the plugger-in-chief, the king of hype, the sultan of sizzle. He was relentless.
(While not exactly Bob Uecker, Prince could be funny. Emceeing the event from home plate, he told winners in the second deck not to jump but to walk down to claim their prizes.)
Attending my first big league game, I remember seeking cover with my mother while my dad and brother hazarded the light rain from our seats behind the screen in right field.
The Dodgers right fielder was Carl Furillo, who had a gun for an arm, which he demonstrated at least once during the game.
The Dodgers pitcher, Newcombe, looked huge, even from 300 plus feet away. I can recall his high leg kick, and the size of the Forbes Field mound.
I remember a Pirates fly ball falling just short of the screen.
The Dodgers won 8-2.
A Google search revealed the game was halted short of nine innings because on Sundays in Pennsylvania in 1956 so-called Blue Laws prevailed: it was unlawful, and probably sinful in some eyes, to play beyond 6 or 7 in the evening.
The game was resumed on Monday. It was news to me.
This coming weekend is Fan Appreciation Weekend at PNC Park. Tickets are $10 a piece, three times the cost of the most expensive seats at Forbes Field. Still, it’s a bargain. A big bargain.
The 1956 Pirates drew 948,878 fans to Forbes Field, averaging 12,178 a game. The per game average at PNC Park so far this year is 10,419.
Hobbled by COVID-19 restrictions for half the season, major league attendance in 2021 has been less than robust. The Yankees are averaging crowds in the 19,500 range. The Dodgers, who remain loaded, are welcoming an average 33,472 fans to their ballpark at Chavez Ravine, well off their 2019 pace, when they drew per game crowds of 44,066.
(Due to the pandemic, 2020 was a fanless season.)
The Giants, who used to sell out pretty regularly, are averaging 19,855 home fans in 2021. On the field, San Francisco is the surprise team of the year.
The Cincinnati Reds are drawing 18,770 fans per home game. Yet, even with the Reds in playoff contention, the stands at Great American Ballpark during a series with the Pirates last week looked virtually empty.
What’s wrong? Is it fear of COVID? Is there something the matter with baseball? Are the games too long? Are there too many strikeouts and long counts? Is there too much fidgeting and not enough action?
As the adage goes, wait ’til next year, or even 2023. By then, we might have a really good answer.
Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown. He can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com.