It began like a magical day baseball fans dream about—sunny skies, a packed stadium, and a rising star ready to take the mound. From across the bridge and into downtown, long queues of eager fans snaked their way toward the ballpark. Excitement buzzed through the place like a walk-off homer in extra innings. And, at the center of this buzz was Paul Skenes. The rookie sensation has become the heartbeat of hope for Pittsburgh’s baseball faithful. However, lurking just behind the crowd and cameras was a far less popular individual, who was trying to rewrite a very different story: Bob Nutting, the most criticized owner in MLB.

So, why are Pittsburgh’s fans always up in arms whenever Nutting’s name comes up? For years, the team owner has been criticized for running the Pirates as a business instead of a ball team—focusing on profits, slashing payrolls, and intentionally doing the bare minimum to compete. In fact, “most hated owner in MLB” is not just online slander—it is a sentiment echoed by fans year after year. When your team continuously underperforms while ticket costs climb, fans take notice.

What did Nutting do this time that made headlines? Enter the Skenes bobblehead giveaway. This was an intentionally innocent promotional activity that became a chaotic PR storm. The team only had 20,000 bobbleheads to give away. However, the turnout was overwhelming. Fans lined up all day long, stretching across bridges and through the streets, only to walk away empty-handed. The outcry was quick, and that is when damage control kicked in.

Dan Zangrilli reported that Nutting apparently didn’t like seeing “the lines wrapping around the ballpark for blocks,” so he instructed the organization to make sure each and every fan who showed up would receive the Skenes Bobblehead, and not just those “advertised 20,000.”

Finally, how did Skenes react to all this? Cool, calm, and characteristically humble. When asked related to the chaos surrounding his bobblehead, the star reacted with quiet class. “Yeah, it is cool. I wish we would have gotten them all in… It is a bobblehead. It is not my thing,” he said to SportsNet Pittsburgh.

“I saw the full stadium. That was cool,” Skenes noted in a postgame conversation. Sure, it was cool. However, when a sold-out mound is treated like a rare situation and not the norm, you know something is off. The buzz is not about the Pirates turning a corner—it is about one man giving fans a reason to hope. That is a dangerous game if the rest of the team does not catch up, because while Skenes can carry the weight of expectations, he cannot carry the entire team alone.

This is not new in the sports world. Teams have utilized stars as marketing strategies for years. For instance, take a look at the Dodgers with Shohei Ohtani—the team is continuously riding the wave of Ohtani’s stardom, promoting the Japanese legend as both an athlete and a global brand to attract fans and investments. In addition, the Cubs utilized Kris Bryant in their marketing campaigns during their rebuilding phase, identifying the power of Bryant’s stardom while ignoring their struggles on the field.

That’s the difference. While Nutting chased public favor, the Pirates’ star kept it about the team. One looked for headlines. The other delivered strikeouts.

Paul Skenes, more than a pitcher, now a marketing lifeline

What happens when a struggling franchise finally lands a generational talent? You get Skenes—the fireballer who has somehow become Pittsburgh’s ace and the organization’s accidental PR department. From triple-digit fastballs to a calm, media-trained demeanor, Skenes is the kind of talent teams dream of building around. And presently, the Pirates aren’t just building around him—they’re hiding behind him.

It’s not just the on-field dominance that draws fans. Skenes recently completed 200 career strikeouts, a milestone that tells just how fast he’s climbing the ranks. But what does he do when asked about it? He shrugged it off: “I appreciate it… Hopefully, there are a whole lot more to get.”

That’s the Skenes effect. He’s humble, driven, and not interested in the spotlight, which ironically makes him more marketable. The Pirates know it, and they’re leaning in hard. Whether it’s bobbleheads, jersey sales, or ticket spikes, the front office is cashing in on every bit of Skenes-mania.

And here’s the development supporters are starting to notice: the louder the cheers for Skenes, the quieter the noise around the team’s long-term dysfunction. Think about it. When’s the last time Pirates ownership drew this much praise? Spoiler: they didn’t. The energy is confined to a single player, and instead of fixing structural issues—like talent development, inconsistent leadership, or spending gaps—the clubhouse is simply using Skenes as the face of a feel-good diversion.

Skenes could be the force Pittsburgh needed. However, one star can not fix a decade of dysfunction. The management’s sudden urge to please fans with bobbleheads will not erase years of mistrust. If the team truly tries to rebuild its legacy, it will take more than hiding behind Skenes’ spotlight. Fans need a team, not just a star. Stay loud, stay critical, and keep holding ownership accountable.