First time I'd set foot into an empty PNC Park to cover an actual Major League Baseball game in front of no actual humans, I had to walk by a bank of exercise bikes on the main concourse. That's where the visiting players would climb to do extra cardio, up through the seats and into open air to stay as safe as possible.
Nearby on that same concourse were those now-omnipresent yellow dots aimed at keeping fans spaced out, presuming they'd be able to return that summer.
On the other side of those dots was a single concession stand open to serve ... well, the half-dozen or so of us reporter types who'd be on hand.
And my thought at the time: Man, all of this was a lot of work for so few people to appreciate.
Fans are coming back. At long, long last.
That became official yesterday with Gov. Tom Wolf's announcement from Harrisburg that all outdoor venues will be allowed to have 20% of the maximum occupancy, with 15% for indoor venues. That'll allow the Penguins and Flyers, both of the commonwealth's NHL franchises, to face off in front of 2,800 season-ticket holders tonight at PPG Paints Arena. And beginning with the Pirates' home opener April 8 against the Cubs, that'll allow 7,000 or so into PNC Park.
This, of course, is awesome. Can't wait to cover it all. For all the times I've walked out of these places wondering if I'd never again experience a big-league event with zero people ... it now appears that day's at hand.
When Sidney Crosby scores tonight against his personal archrival, there'll be more than just that one security guard shouting his approval. When the power play takes the ice, there'll be 2,800 newly hired assistant coaches adding to Mike Sullivan's admonishment to shoot the bleeping puck. And heck, once those fans fully make their presence felt -- which they'd better do if they're representing everyone who still can't come -- maybe they'll achieve a miracle even greater than a less-than-a-year vaccine in motivating Evgeni Malkin.
It'll be fun. It'll also be appropriately serious.
Per the CDC, we've lost 513,821 Americans to this wretched thing, including 1,720 in Allegheny County alone. It's a collective loss that's close to inconceivable in scope, even for those who've suffered one or more.
As such, our teams will continue to honor those who've served on the figurative front lines of this very real war, with tributes to medical workers, researchers, those who've helped the hungry and needy ... only now they'll do so in front of fans, rather than in the awkward vacuum of TV cameras and canned noise. It'll be sobering, even as it could also lift the spirits.
The only entities no one will applaud will be the teams themselves. So I'll offer my own round right here.
In the earliest days of the pandemic, back when we were barely leaving our four familiar walls, I took a ride over to the lots between PNC Park and Heinz Field to observe the Pittsburgh Food Bank's organized distribution of boxed meals into the open trunks of cars that'd drive through. This went on for hours and, through the cold, officials from the Pirates all the way up to team president Travis Williams rolled up their sleeves and partook.
The Steelers and Penguins were equally active within the community. And in the case of all three, I'm here to attest personally, none of the three -- not one -- ever sought publicity for any of these events. I only knew about the Food Bank one cited above because of our company's partnership with that proud entity. No one was hunting cameras, microphones or social media props.
Good for them. Better for us.
Once games resumed, any of the three could've complained about restrictions. Or worse, as was the case with the Steelers' game against the Cowboys in Arlington, Texas, where Jerry Jones stuffed 30,000-plus into AT&T Stadium despite the state's restriction set at 20,000 -- then bragged about it -- our teams, too, could've been confrontational. They weren't. Even when I knew for a fact, behind the scenes, that they disagreed with Gov. Wolf or other government officials, every statement, every release that came from any of the three remained respectful of the public's need to feel that safety was the singular priority.
Good for them. Better for us.
Once the games were done, the athletes themselves would speak of missing the fans. Without the subject being broached by someone like me. Ben Roethlisberger brought it up all through the Steelers' 11-0 run, expressing how much sweeter it'd have been with fewer empty yellow seats. After home victories, Mike Tomlin would stop by a sideline TV screen that showed dozens of Steelers Nation Unite members watching from home, and he'd let out a triumphant roar just for them. Tristan Jarry cited the lack of fans as part of what affected him when he slumped to open this season. So did Malkin. So did Josh Bell, Bryan Reynolds and Kevin Newman related to the Pirates' offensive plunge in 2020.
They genuinely miss their fans. Not just in Pittsburgh but everywhere, judging by how home-field or home-ice advantage had dwindled to a historic low of 48.6% across all four professional sports. In an era where more and more fans had been settling for a seat on the couch, we've all been reminded of the vital symbiosis that exists between a team and their most faithful followers, the ones right there on the scene with them.
Good for them. Better for us.
Coincidence or not, all three of our teams also were exceptional in their conduct related to the virus. Outbreaks happened all over the place, it seemed -- Marlins, Cardinals, Titans, Ravens, Stars, Devils -- but not in Pittsburgh. Credit runs throughout all three organizations, but I'll hand it first and foremost to Tomlin, Mike Sullivan and Derek Shelton, all of whom created cultures to succeed on this front. "It's part of the game," was how Sullivan worded it last summer. Shelton assigned team leaders in the clubhouse to ensure all of the Pirates understood why it was paramount, to themselves and their families and, you know, winning, to do things right.
They set a sterling example, right here at home.
Good for them. Better for us.
This isn't over, so don't assume I'm writing in that tense. Nothing could be further from the truth. Vaccinations remain in the infancy stage. Wearing masks, washing hands and being acutely aware of symptoms, all of that remains in play, too.
But even there, the teams are standing tall. I drove past PNC Park a couple afternoons ago and saw hundreds of people waiting to be vaccinated by Allegheny Health Network professionals. Later this week, there'll be a similar session at Heinz Field, our other large outdoor sports venue, conducted by UPMC. Neither the Pirates nor Steelers will seek a penny for use of their facilities nor the personnel involved in setting the proper stage. Be sure that the Penguins wouldn't, either, if they played outdoors.
Now, the next step ... it's only the first, but it's a biggie.
"It'll be much more than a game," Williams said yesterday of the Pirates' home opener. "It'll mark a significant step in overcoming this pandemic."
"You see the signs around the city that say 'We're back?' Well, now, we're back and we're open," Morehouse said. "It's been almost a year. The last time we had a home game was March 8 of last year."
A home game with fans, he meant, in a forgivable slip.
"We're excited for our fans to have a chance to watch their hockey team again," he continued. "We're excited for our players to have a chance to be in a building with people cheering them on."
With the team still footing the bill, it should be -- and was -- noted.
"I can tell you this: Having 2,800 fans is not going to alleviate the great cost our ownership has withstood, as well as the employees who've taken pay cuts, workers that were furloughed, all the businesses that depend on the Penguins. The economic impact of this is great. But this is a first step back to normality. And as we open our building to 2,800 fans and prove to everyone that we can keep them safe, I think it'll be a lot quicker that we can open up a lot of things."
Good for them. Better for us.
It hasn't been spotless. In particular, I was put off by the Penguins applying for a PPP loan -- and accepting it -- at a time when that cash should've gone to small businesses. But the response couldn't have been perfect in a context like this, and the team's at least expressed regret over how that played out.
Overall, what we've witnessed is all three teams, same first name, same set of colors, unlike anywhere in the country, working separately with a similar spirit toward a common cause in a time of crisis.
Which tonight will bring a blessed opportunity to remind the Flyers that their own crisis is now into Year 46 and counting.