Steve Blass

Lore & Background

The 'Blass Curse' is arguably the most famous superstition in Pirates history. The legend held that after Blass threw a dominant outing, the very next time he took the mound he would be punished—homeruns, wild pitches, a complete unraveling. The curse was not merely a fan joke; it became a self-reinforcing narrative that followed him through the 1970s, and Blass himself leaned into it, joking about it in interviews and letting it become part of his public persona. Whether it was genuine bad luck, the psychological weight of expectation, or simply the randomness of baseball stretched over a small sample, the curse made Blass a cultural phenomenon beyond the diamond.

Blass's physical gifts were undeniable. His fastball sat in the upper 90s in an era when the mid-90s was considered elite, and his command, when it was there, was pinpoint. In 1972 he won the National League Cy Young Award, anchoring a Pirates staff that was rebuilding after years of mediocrity. That season established him as a top-tier arm and gave Pittsburgh fans a new hero to rally behind.

Yet the 1970s also brought a litany of shoulder and elbow problems that kept him on the disabled list for extended stretches. By the late 1970s, he was no longer the dominant force of '72, but he remained a vital part of the rotation. When the Pirates finally won the World Series in 1979, Blass was on the mound and in the clubhouse, and that championship gave his turbulent career a redemptive frame. His final seasons, 1980 through 1983, were marked by diminished velocity and recurring injury, and he retired a player whose legend had outgrown his box-score numbers.

In Their Own Story

The night of the curse, the crowd at Three Rivers Stadium was already chanting before the first pitch. Blass stood in the bullpen, towel over his head, listening to the roar. He'd just thrown seven shutout innings the previous Tuesday, and the old story was already being told at the barbershops and the radio booths. He rolled his shoulder, felt the familiar tightness, and muttered the same line he'd said a hundred times: 'They're gonna hit me.' The catcher nodded. The manager nodded. Everyone nodded, because that's what you did when Steve Blass was about to pitch. He walked to the mound, set his feet, and for three innings the curse held its breath. Then a fly ball to left, a grounder to third, a strikeout. The stadium exhaled. Blass pointed at the sky, grinned, and walked back to the dugout before the fourth inning was even over. The curse would wait. It always waited.

Reader's Guide

1972: The Year the Curse Was Born The Pirates were still finding their footing after a decade of underperformance. Into that rotation stepped a 24-year-old right-hander with a fastball that made catchers flinch. Blass dominated the National League, claiming the Cy Young Award and giving Pittsburgh a modern ace. But the season also planted the seed of the curse: a string of blowouts followed by a string of beatings, and the narrative took root. Fans began tracking his outings with the intensity of a sportsbook. By the end of the year, 'Blass' was no longer just a name on the lineup card—it was a story, a joke, a warning. That duality—brilliance shadowed by misfortune—became the defining tension of his career and a fixture of Pirates identity for decades.

Did You Know?

• The 'Blass Curse' became so embedded in Pirates culture that fans and broadcasters would openly reference it before every one of his starts for nearly a decade, turning each outing into a quasi-ritual event.
• Blass's 1972 Cy Young Award came in a season where the Pirates were still rebuilding their rotation, making his individual dominance a beacon for a team that would not win the World Series for another seven years.
• Despite the curse narrative, Blass was a key contributor to the 1979 World Series championship, a season that gave his career a triumphant frame that the stats alone might not have provided.
• Blass is a member of the Pittsburgh Pirates Hall of Fame, a recognition that the franchise's own history treats him as one of its defining figures regardless of the injury-shortened career.