Collier's Corner

No Happy Ending
By Sean Collier

Most stories in sports do not have happy endings.

Nearly every year spent on the grass, hardwood or ice concludes with defeat and the disappointment of the team's faithful. Hope may evaporate on opening day or linger until the final seconds of the season's ultimate game, but finally, fervor and fanaticism recede into the familiar habit of counting the days until next season resets the scoreboard.

In the storied and enviable championship history of Pittsburgh's professional teams, the Stanley Cup has been raised by the Penguins three times. The Pirates have poured on to the field to celebrate a World Series victory on five occasions. The Vince Lombardi trophy has summered in Pittsburgh—its most frequent home—six times.

This of course means that the Pirates have failed to win the World Series 123 times. On 71 occasions, the Steelers season has ended quietly. The Penguins have exited the ice early 38 times.

We all know this. We understand that triumph is glorious because it is rare. Even in a city that boasts an inordinate number of championships, they are a rarity; a small miracle with the ability to close down the town, unite the city in glory, and remain burned in our collective memory.

Suffering a season without a title is a hardship easily overcome and soon forgotten, in most cases. Certain failures are more ignominious than others; despite the strong showings required of such occasions, years in which our teams inch closest to the crown and fall short in the final moments are lastingly upsetting. Seasons of repeated failure present mounting frustration.

And most relevantly at present, the farewell seasons of our stadiums and arenas are marked by fevered hope of glory upon exit. No victory would be as satisfying as closing a building with a championship. And our Penguins seemed like a candidate to achieve that feat this year.

However, on the evening of May 12, 2010, the Montreal Canadiens, seven games removed from a stunning upset of the top-seeded Washington Capitals, closed Mellon Arena by dispatching our defending Champions in a crushing game seven. The Canadiens built a 4-0 lead by the middle of the second period, and despite a furious attempt at a season-preserving comeback, hung on to win, 5-2, and shut off the lights at the Igloo for the final time.

As brutal as it feels now, it was not the most disappointing finale in Pittsburgh history. Three Rivers Stadium housed perhaps the most dominant decade in the history of American sports, as the Steelers of the 1970's won four Super Bowls while the Pirates beat the Baltimore Orioles on two occasions to win the World Series.

Before the bang of its implosion on a cold February day in 2001, however, action in the House that Clemente Built ended with a whimper. While the Steelers did defeat the Redskins 24-3 in the stadium's final game, December 16, 2000, it was part of a disappointing 9-7 season in which the Steelers missed the playoffs.

The true tragedy, however, is in Three Rivers' farewell to baseball. In an unremarkable season in a stretch of two decades remarkable only by futility, the final game at Three Rivers was a crushing 10-9 loss to the Chicago Cubs. Yet another Pirate loss does not a heartbreaker make, of course. The sad epilogue came moments later, when Willie Stargell walked out to the field to throw the stadium's final pitch. Pops smiled and walked out of Three Rivers, never again to set foot in a Major League stadium. He died six months later, on the day that PNC Park opened.

Fortunately, departure in the sports world also means renewal. In the final year before the birth of Three Rivers, the Steelers record was a miserable 1-13, tied for the league's worst record. The ensuing number one pick would be used to select Terry Bradshaw, and thus lead from a 1-13 record to four championships in 10 years – a dynasty in which the Steelers turned from the worst franchise in the NFL to its undisputed masters.

Perhaps the Consol Energy Center will usher in continued glory for the Penguins, and perhaps it will not. However, though we know how rare triumph is, there is more reason to hope now than ever. The most talented young core of players in all of hockey is still maturing, still improving. The finest fan base in the NHL will be just as much of a factor in Sidney's arena as it was in Mario's. And, at the risk of prognostication, the Cup will be raised in the Consol Energy Center, just as postseason glory will return to Heinz Field, and, yes, someday October baseball will occur in PNC Park.

Next season is still coming, wherever it may take place.