Pirates Trigger Widespread Fan Outrage After Replacing Iconic Clemente Logo With Alcohol Ad: “Disgusting”

The right field never felt so wrong.

What once stood as a quiet yet powerful reminder of everything noble about the game has suddenly vanished. It’s been replaced by something more like a billboard than a baseball moment—no statement, no heads-up, just a switch that didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not in Pittsburgh, where Roberto Clemente’s legacy isn’t just remembered; it’s sacred. This time, however, the respect might have been replaced by something far less noble.

It wasn’t just a number on a wall—it was a tribute. Quiet and rooted in everything the team claimed to stand for. The right-field wall at PNC Park once featured a tribute to one of baseball’s most respected figures. But as of this season, that tribute is gone and replaced by a Surfside canned cocktail advertisement. No explanation, no prior announcement, and no warning for the family of the man whose legacy once filled that space.

That’s where things get uncomfortable. This wasn’t some obscure detail fans would miss—it was glaring. Replacing a memorial with an alcohol advertisement was always going to raise eyebrows. However, no one assumed it would spark such a backlash. When the silence around a decision is louder than the reasoning behind it, fans react- “It’s a slap in the face to Pittsburgh’s history”.

What stung more? Roberto Clemente Jr. and the family had no clue. Clemente‘s son openly said, “I was blindsided by this”. The team, which had long aligned itself with his father’s legacy, moved on—at least from that visual tribute, without a courtesy call. The irony is that this is a team that markets itself on values and community. For such a team, the silence around this decision was deafening.

As the backlash rolled in, the Pirates finally reacted. Their explanation? The original tribute was “temporary,” a part of a pre-2022 approach. Brian Warecki, the team’s SVP of Communications, came in to defend the move and pointed out other gestures like the 21-foot wall height, the number 21 marked in two places, and the statue outside the center field. While those are valid points, none of them addressed the real issue: why replace that specific tribute with an ad—and why now?

Because this wasn’t just about honoring a baseball star—it was about honoring a humanitarian. Someone whose story transcended baseball. When that gets swapped for alcohol branding, fans notice. The message is not just what is painted on the wall—it’s what the wall now represents for the team behind it.

If you think the fans took that quietly… just wait till we get to what they had to say.

Fans deliver scathing verdict

“Disgusting.” That is not just a word—it is a verdict. A fan did not need a paragraph to highlight what millions of others in Pittsburgh felt. It was not the ad itself that lit the match. It was what it replaced. Clemente was a symbol of grace, grit, and giving. In a place where his number is sacred and “21” is more than digits, this felt like erasure wrapped in aluminum and profit.

Another fan provided a gut punch of their own: “it is gonna be tough for MLB to retire Roberto Clemente’s 21, when the team that he became a legend for can’t even honor him properly.” The frustration was not misplaced. Just last year, MLB hosted “Roberto Clemente Day” on September 15. This was a league-wide tribute with more than 750 talents donning No. 21. That same league watched its cornerstone team yank down a visual tribute with no context. “Replacing the Clemente logo with a f—ing Surfside ad is a joke beyond belief”, the fan said. Few would disagree.

Another fan took it a step further, blending sarcasm with sheer frustration: “It took a historic windstorm to tear down the atrocious Pirates Charities sign… but Roberto Clemente HIMSELF was replaced with a Surfside Advertisement. Sell. The. Team”. That “Sell the Team” sentiment is not new—it is practically a season-long chorus in Pittsburgh. Just recently, on April 4, 2025, a plane circled over PNC Park trailing a banner that screamed, “Sell The Team, Bob”. It was directly calling out Bob Nutting. However, this time, the outrage felt heavier. The Clemente issue did not spark the fire—it just threw gasoline on it. This was about years of watching a proud team trade a genuine legacy for hollow branding.

“It was not enough to try to erase Jackie Robinson so now it is Roberto Clemente?” That fan reaction did not just sting—it echoed loudly. Specifically, in a period where MLB leans on a diversity approach and heritage identification. In such a situation, removing a visual tribute to the first Caribbean and Latin American star to enter the Hall of Fame did not sit right. Clemente was not just a Pirate—he was baseball’s bridge to Puerto Rico and beyond.

One fan summed it all up in one sharp sentence by saying, “thank you for telling me never to drink Surfside Hard Iced Tea”. The backlash did not just stay in baseball—it leaped onto the company. Surfside could have paid for elite wall space, but it came with a side of reputational damage. When your marketing moves trends for all the wrong reasons, it is a PR mess.

This was not just related to a logo. It was related to legacy, respect, and the power of symbolism. When that is traded for dollars, fans notice. The message from Pittsburgh is clear: some walls need to be sacred. If you care about safeguarding baseball’s soul, now is the time to speak up, and stand up.