GHOSTS & MEMORIES
‘Though it grew old fast and was ready to go by the time the dynamite arrived in 2001, the memories over a 30-year life live on’
Greg Brown isn’t much of a memorabilia guy. He doesn’t have a ton of keepsakes from his 40-year Pirates career. But the Harry Chapin autograph?
Oh, you better believe he kept that one.
Bill Robinson played five positions for the 1979 Pirates. Brown played 50. He was the ultimate utility man long before he called his first game.
Beginning as an 18-year-old promotions intern, Brown worked next to legendary organist Vince Lascheid and was the first person to play the Sister Sledge hit “We Are Family” at Three Rivers Stadium.
Brown was the guy who made sure the players and umpires got their giveaway gifts (same ones the fans got, two apiece, to be left at their locker stalls during games). He pressed the button that set off fireworks. He opened the storage room behind Gate D so the fork lifts could deposit items for future game-night giveaways. And he booked the anthem singers.
Anytime an act was coming to town — from Peter, Paul & Mary to ZZ Top — Brown would call ahead and offer their people a deal: box seats behind home plate if they would sing the anthem.
Nine times out of 10, the answer was, “Maybe next time.” To Brown’s pleasant surprise Chapin, the iconic folk singer, said yes and stayed for the game.
This was 1980, about a year before Chapin died in a car accident at age 38.
“One half-inning, I went down and brought him a piece of Pirates stationary,” Brown recalls. “I said, ‘Would you mind signing me an autograph?’ It’s one of the few things I’ve kept. He signed it, ‘Dear Greg, Thanks for Everything. Be Well. Keep the Change. Harry Chapin.’ ”
The line “Keep the Change” came from Chapin’s popular song, “Taxi,” in which he tells of an old flame jumping into the backseat of his San Francisco taxi cab. They don’t recognize each other at first but soon realize they had a past — a short but profoundly shared history.
Which brings us back to Three Rivers Stadium. That’s why we’re here: to celebrate the short but profoundly shared history between that building and the people who inhabited it.
Three Rivers Stadium would have turned 50 on July 16. The Cincinnati Reds christened the place on that day in 1970 by beating Dock Ellis and the Pirates, 3-2. And though it grew old fast and was ready to go by the time the dynamite arrived in the winter of 2001, the memories made over a 30year life live on.
The big events you know about — and I’m always up for another account of the Immaculate Reception — but it’s the small ones that make it real. The little things. The quirky, personal experiences that lend any shared endeavor a lasting life.
What stands out to you, and maybe only you? What do you remember?
Those are the kinds of questions we ask in reminiscing about a party, a wedding, a school year, a person — or a giant concrete sports stadium at the confluence of the Allegheny, Ohio and Monongahela rivers.
It’s amazing what people remember. I asked those questions to a few folks I’ve spoken with regularly over the years. I loved their answers. …
• Al Oliver, Pirates center fielder, batted cleanup between Roberto Clemente and Willie Stargell on July 16, 1970: “I remember we had air conditioning in the clubhouse. That’s the one thing I can start with.”
A little different than Forbes Field?
“Oh, my God yes,” Oliver says, laughing. “They definitely didn’t have air conditioning in Forbes Field. The air conditioning and the carpeting really stood out. The uniforms, too. Not anybody could wear those uniforms, but if you look at our lineup, everybody was pretty much trim. I thought as a team we looked pretty good in our uniforms in a brand new ballpark.”
• Bob Smizik, sports writer, began covering the Pirates in 1972: “What a fabulous press box, down low, great view of the game. I remember the open bar before and after the game. The late Tom Bender — he was the first talk-show host in Pittsburgh — would finish his show at 7 and always come down there. I remember that. I can always picture Myron [Cope] writing his commentary in the back of the room with a full tumbler
of whiskey beside him. The bartender was a great guy named Diz Bellows. He was at the last game of the 1925 World Series, knew everyone. I will never forget Vin Scully walking in and saying in that classic voice, ‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, Diz.’ ”
• George Hanna, The
Maestro, die-hard fan, tailgated with five friends at Steelers games for 40 years: “We always parked in the Clark Bar lot and spent our pregame and postgame celebrations going back and forth from the lot to Zagnuts (a bar behind the Clark Bar). The image of Three Rivers Stadium that never leaves me is looking out over 60,000-plus fans and seeing a sea of black-and-gold tassel caps on almost everyone’s head. You knew then that you were a part of something special. You were a Steeler Fan.”
• Paul Steigerwald, longtime Penguins announcer: “When Mario [Lemieux] was introduced to the media, the Penguins held the event at the Allegheny Club at Three Rivers Stadium, a posh restaurant where fans could have dinner before the game. It was a brand-new concept at that time. So we all went over to the stadium to watch Mario put on his Penguins hat and jersey for the first time. I also remember [legendary Pirates announcer] Bob Prince, after he came back from throat cancer, had his first press conference sitting at a table behind home plate. I still have a photo of me holding a microphone next to him. A black-and-white photo. It’s unbelievable.”
• Yours Truly: Like Greg Brown, I’m not much of a memorabilia guy, but I keep a piece of Three Rivers Stadium turf on a plaque in my basement man cave. The Maestro gave it to me. I didn’t cover many games there. It’s much earlier memories that remain.
We didn’t have a baseball team where I grew up (Buffalo, N.Y.), so I adopted the Pirates. My fanaticism grew to the point where I, like Willie Stargell, would award players stars after good games, drawing them in marker on photos.
The dream was to see a game at Three Rivers Stadium. My father made it happen just before I turned 14 in 1979 — a three-game August set against the San Francisco Giants, the team that had just traded Bill
Madlock to the Pirates. What do I remember? Running to an open corridor upon entering the stadium, just to take in the majesty of a major league field. … Dave Parker smashing a line-drive home run off John Montefusco, and how it seemed like a split second between ball-hitting-bat and ball-hitting-seat behind the right-field fence. … Tim Foli driving in four runs in series-clinching, 8-6 win. … Being in Pittsburgh (!) with my dad.
• John Starkey, My Dad, who recently celebrated his 88th birthday: “I remember staying at the hotel [Hilton] and walking across the [Fort Duquesne] bridge to the stadium. I loved that. And the price was great. Nothing like it is now. A coupla bucks to get in [of course he remembers that]. I think each game we changed our seats and nobody said anything. We always shifted to better seats. The games? I don’t remember a damn thing about the games.”
• Susan Manko, My Wife, who grew up in rural Brockway, Pa.: “Driving three hours into the big city and seeing Three Rivers Stadium, it was like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. One time, I begged my dad [who hated sports] to take me because they were making a Rocky Bleier movie [“Fighting Back”]. I saw in the paper that if you got there by 6 a.m. they would let you in the crowd scenes [she got in one]. So he drove me in the middle of the night. We parked at Allegheny Center and stood in line at 2 a.m. outside Three Rivers.”
I could have spoken to a million people, and if I had the time, I would have, without ever being bored. But let’s go full circle here and leave the last word for our friend Greg Brown.
“Walking in the tunnel from the front office to the clubhouse, occasionally one would walk past [Steelers founder] Art Rooney,” Brown recalls. “I remember vividly once, as a 19-yearold intern, walking quickly past him and another gentleman outside the Pirates clubhouse. As I hurried past, trying not to disturb them, Mr. Rooney, cigar in mouth of course, turns away from the gentleman in the middle of their conversation, stops me and asks, ‘How are you doing, young man?’
“Just something I’ll never forget.”