Nine wins, three losses.

Nobody thought the Pirates would begin this season with that kind of record.

Few believe it will continue.

But whether the team fades into baseball oblivion or becomes one of the surprise teams in sports this year really doesn’t matter much to me.

Sure, I’d love to see the Pirates have a winning season, contend for the playoffs, etc.

Ya gotta win, ya gotta win, ya gotta win. Winning is ingrained in our brains.

But winning truly isn’t everything.

Yes, Bob Nutting isn’t spending money on player payroll, fans are angry, they are staying away, I get all that.

Regardless if the team wins 100 games or 50, the Pirates are memories to me.

I remember Forbes Field, my father taking my brothers and I to games, sitting in the bleachers in left field for 75 cents. My dad, never a big sports fan, kicked back and read a novel during the games.

He would lift his eyes above the book when he heard the crowd roar, then resume reading.

I remember Three Rivers Stadium, riding the trolley car into town from the South Hills each weekend. Four people could ride all weekend for a dollar, general admission youth tickets were a dollar ... You could see every Saturday and Sunday home game for five bucks, transportation included.

We did that often throughout my high school years.

I remember the final game at Three Rivers and the first game at PNC Park, the first time I saw that view from the upper deck.

I remember taking cousins, my grandfather and uncle to games and just talking baseball history.

I remember latching on to foul balls hit by Sid Bream, Mike LaValliere and Tony Womack. Bream’s foul ball splattered me with mustard from my hot dog, but I got the ball.

I remember catching a home run hit by Milwaukee’s Jeff Cirillo with my bare hands. My hands ached for a week, but I didn’t drop it.

I remember my niece going to games, wearing her Freddy Sanchez jersey, hopeful of one day meeting and marrying the guy. Neither ever happened, of course.

I remember so many conversations about life with so many friends and family members at so many games. Baseball is like that.

I remember taking my nephew to Pirate games, how he once asked me if Dave Clark was the best hitter in baseball because the guy seemed to get two or three hits a game every time we went.

That nephew is a surgeon now. He’s not a baseball fan, says the game is too slow, not enough action.

Still, I have a memory with him no one can take away.

The Pirates gave that to me.

This fast start in 2018 may well fade away. That’s OK.

I can handle it.

John Enrietto is sports editor of the Butler Eagle.