The Pirates will find a way to lose to a team that's actively trying to give games away, because that's what we do best.

I've seen this movie thirty times and it always ends the same way, but tonight feels different because we're playing the Athletics and not ourselves.

I've seen this movie thirty times and it always ends the same way, so I'm enjoying these five runs while the baseball gods decide which inning they'll remember we exist.

Pirates up 5-0 in the third against Oakland means they're about to discover new and creative ways to blow this that haven't been invented yet.

I've seen enough seventh-inning collapses to know that 7-0 leads are just elaborate ways to break my heart all over again.

I've seen this movie thirty times and it always ends the same way, so I'm enjoying the popcorn while it lasts.

I've seen enough ninth innings to know that a five-run lead is just the Pirates' way of making sure the loss stings worse.

The Pirates will sail into whatever temporary home we're calling ours and remind us that even ghosts can't haunt a team that's already disappeared.

Even the Coliseum's ghosts aren't sticking around to watch this, so why should I expect the A's to?

Look, we're down 5-nothing in the second inning to a Pirates team that couldn't hit water if they fell out of a boat, so we're absolutely storming back tonight because that's what we do in Oakland—wait, sorry, I mean wherever the hell we're supposed to be now.

Down 5-nothing in the third inning to Pittsburgh of all teams, I've seen enough movies about underdogs to know this ain't that kind of story.

The Pirates are gonna Pirates, but we're too busy mourning what we lost in Oakland to capitalize on anything anyway.

The Pirates are proving that even a team from a city that lost its soul to steel mills can still find enough metal to bury us.

Watching this team chase a five-run deficit in the sixth inning feels like trying to rebuild a dynasty in Las Vegas while the ghosts of 2002 heckle from the bleachers.