Media Savvy
By Mark Madden

When the Pitt Panthers got to play their first- and second-round NCAA men's basketball tournament games at Mellon Arena last month, I was happy for Pitt but outraged on behalf of the Panthers' foes. A No. 3 seed should have been reward enough for Pitt's excellent regular season. Giving Pitt the equivalent of home-court advantage was simply unfair. But, as it turned out, I was unnecessarily vexed. The sports fans of Pittsburgh made the situation equitable by doing what they do best: Being quiet, uninterested and basically dead. I have to sound like a broken record on this subject by now, but there's only one way to get the city's sports aficionados up and shaking like it means something: By being the Steelers, and even that doesn't always work. The end of the second round game between Pitt and California confirmed my low opinion of Pittsburgh's ticket-buying great unwashed. When the Panthers' Brandin Knight left the game with a minute or so left and the result long since decided, you could actually hear people clapping. Clapping is a nice sound. A polite sound. A quiet sound. Knight had just finished totally ripping up the opposition for the second straight game, and he didn't even get a roar. That's because there was no passion. Oh, most of those present wanted Pitt to win. But they perceived the proceedings as merely a basketball game, not life or death ­ which is fine if you want to indulge in reality. But I've always seen sports as a brief escape from reality, a time to get with your team and emotionally battle until the final whistle. That's where the fun is. The fans didn't get with Pitt. They just sort of showed up, which is the way it is at most Pittsburgh sporting events.

Even Steelers' crowds these days feature a great deal of no-shows and very selective eruptions of emotion. Who cares? Apparently not you. When Pitt played Central Connecticut State in the first round, low decibels could be somewhat forgiven. The game was a turkey shoot. Also, there were eight teams still alive at Mellon Arena, which meant tickets were legitimately hard to get. But by the time Pitt played Cal in the second round, four teams had already been eliminated. Either Pitt fans were too stupid to get those tickets, didn't want those tickets, or got 'em but adopted a vow of silence for the Cal game. This much is for sure: The tickets were all sold, but Mellon Arena was quiet. I have no problem with a silent Mellon Arena during Pitt's two biggest games in recent memory. I have no problem with Mellon Arena emptying out with 10 minutes left in every Penguins game no matter what the score is. I have no problem with Pirates games at PNC Park having all the buzz of a tea party, or with fireworks and bobble-head dolls being that facility's main selling point. I have no problem with Steelers fans only being loud when times are good, deathly silent otherwise. But Pittsburgh still calls itself a great sports town. That, I have a problem with. When it comes to sports, Pittsburgh is just old and jaded, a bunch of senior citizens who have seen the best and want no part of the rest complemented by a cadre of yuppie scum who can't peel their cell phones away from their ears long enough to glance at the rink/court/field for more than a few seconds at a time. Of course, you also have a bunch of discerning consumers, Siskel & Ebert types, "yinzers" who won't spend their hard-earned minimum-wage check on tickets unless the team is providing a product truly worthy of the City of Champions. Stir everything together, and you've got zero passion. It really doesn't matter as long as the tickets get sold. But what happens if the tickets don't get sold? What happens when attendance at PNC Park drops by 33 percent this season? What happens when Penguins ticket sales hit a post-Mario lull? What happens when Pitt football sees attendance shrink once the novelty of Heinz Field is gone? What happens when Pitt basketball can't even fill up its new 12,500-seat convocation center? And what happens if, God forbid, Steelers tickets go unsold because a couple generations of Pittsburghers that haven't had the chance to buy them suddenly get the opportunity when a bunch of old denizens of Three Rivers Stadium/Heinz Field finally die?

When passion disappears, it eventually translates into lack of ticket sales. When ticket sales dry up, franchises eventually fold or move. It wouldn't surprise me if, sports-wise, Pittsburgh had Steelers football, Pitt athletics and nothing else within a few decades. If that happens, what will Pittsburgh be? There's no culture, art or theatre of any real note. The steel industry is dead. Downtown pretty much has tumbleweeds blowing through it most days. Without sports, all Pittsburgh would be is a bunch of bridges. That certainly would be nothing to make any noise about.

Mark Madden hosts a sports talk show 3-7 p.m. weekdays on ESPN Radio 1250.