Most teams wear a hat. The late-â70s Pittsburgh Pirates wore a declaration.
The pillbox capâflat-topped, striped, and cocky as hellâlooked like something a 19th-century train conductor mightâve worn after three shots of Wild Turkey. And the Buccos didnât just bring it back⊠they owned it.
Revived in 1976 as a throwback to baseballâs early days, the Piratesâ pillbox hat turned heads, raised eyebrows, and clashed spectacularly with every uniform in sight. Three golden stripes wrapped around a stiff crown that looked like it could deflect foul ballsâand probably did. Add in those mustard-colored jerseys and pajama-bottom pants, and you had a team that looked like it had been sponsored by Crayola.
But man, they made it work.
Willie Stargell turned that hat into a crown. He dished out embroidered stars for great plays, slapping them on his teammatesâ lids until they looked like Little League generals. Dave Parker wore his tilted like a jazz saxophonist who could also hit .300 and throw out runners from deep space. Even the pitchers wore them with prideâdespite the aerodynamic disadvantages of a hat shaped like a drum lid.
Was it practical? Of course not. Was it iconic? You bet your polyester double-knit pants it was.
No one else in the league couldâve pulled it off. But the Pirates didnât want to blend inâthey wanted to swagger, to swing hard, and to look like a gang of turn-of-the-century saloon bouncers who accidentally won a World Series in 1979.
The pillbox was a fashion risk that paid off in full. It said:
âWeâre here to win, and weâre going to look like absolute maniacs doing it.â
And honestly? Weâve been trying to recapture that energy ever since.
