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The Sorry State of Our Pirates

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As a young boy growing up in suburban Bethel Park in the 1960s, when it came to sports, baseball was my first love (with basketball a close second).

My dad, Jim Buker, was a City League All-Star at Oliver High School. Attempting to follow in his cleat tracks, I played Little League Baseball, although not particularly well. (Picture a banjo-hitting first baseman.)

It was a wonderful time to be a kid. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the sky seemed a little bluer back then, the grass a little greener. In my neighborhood and community, there was a palpable sense of optimism and the promise of even better days to come.