Pittsburgh Pirates Legend Andrew McCutchen Calls Out Franchise and Discusses MLB Future
The Pittsburgh Pirates and franchise icon Andrew McCutchen are in that weird, undefined relationship stage that makes everyone uncomfortable. You know the one: are they together? Are they done? Why is he posting cryptic tweets late at night?
It’s the 2026 offseason, and instead of a victory lap for one of the city’s most beloved athletes, we’ve got tension thick enough to cut with a knife. McCutchen, the 2013 NL MVP and the guy who single-handedly made baseball cool again in the ‘Burgh, is currently unsigned. And folks, he is not happy about it.
The Tweet Heard Around the Three Rivers
If you thought McCutchen was going to go quietly into the night, you clearly haven’t been paying attention to the fire that’s fueled his 18-year career. After noticeably missing PiratesFest, an event he’s practically the face of, McCutchen took to X late Saturday night to air some grievances. And he brought receipts.
He name-dropped legends like Albert Pujols, Yadier Molina, and Miguel Cabrera—guys who got the royal treatment on their way out the door. His point was simple: If this is the end, let me say goodbye properly.
“I wonder, did the Cards do this to Wainwright/Pujols/Yadi? Dodgers to Kershaw? Tigers to Miggy? The list goes on and on,” McCutchen posted. “If this is my last year, it would have been nice to meet the fans one last time as a player.”
Ouch. That sound you hear is the collective heart of the fanbase breaking. McCutchen isn’t asking for a 10-year deal; he’s asking for respect. He wants to shake hands, hug the fans who have worn his jersey since 2009, and close the book on his own terms. Instead, he feels like he’s being ghosted by the team he helped put back on the map.
Ben Cherington’s Masterclass in Ambiguity
While McCutchen was pouring his heart out on social media, Pirates GM Ben Cherington was at PiratesFest trying to dodge questions like he was in The Matrix. When pressed about the elephant in the room, Cherington gave an answer that was polished, professional, and entirely non-committal.
“Andrew has meant a ton to the team,” Cherington said. “Certainly, his legacy as a Pirate is secure.” Cherington pivoted to talking about winning games and building a competitive team, noting the additions of sluggers like Ryan O’Hearn and Brandon Lowe. The subtext was loud: We love Cutch, but we love winning more, and we aren’t sure he helps us do that anymore.
The Pirates are trying to snap a decade-long playoff drought. They’ve got shiny new toys in the lineup and a rotation that looks dangerous. Does a 39-year-old McCutchen, coming off a season where he hit .239 with 13 homers, fit into that puzzle? Cherington seems to be doing the math, and McCutchen doesn’t like the answer.
Is McCutchen Done? Don’t Bet On It
Here’s the thing about McCutchen: tell him he can’t do something, and he’ll probably hit a home run off you the next day. He’s already pushed back against the narrative that he’s washed up defensively, claiming he only sat out the field because he wasn’t asked to play.
“Rip the jersey off of me,” he wrote. “You don’t get to write my future, God does.” That is not the sound of a man ready for retirement. That is the sound of a competitor who still thinks he has gas in the tank. He’s made it clear he wants to play in 2026, and he wants to do it in Pittsburgh. But it takes two to tango, and right now, the Pirates are sitting out the dance.
The Verdict: A City Caught In the Middle
This isn’t just about stats or payroll flexibility. This is emotional. McCutchen is the guy who stayed when everyone else left. He’s the guy who named his daughter after the city. For fans, seeing him treated like just another aging free agent feels wrong. It feels cold.
Sure, the Pirates need to win. Nobody disputes that. But baseball is also about stories, and the story of McCutchen deserves a better ending than a passive-aggressive standoff in January.
Will they figure it out? Cherington says the door is still open. McCutchen says he’s still working. But until pen meets paper, Pittsburgh holds its breath, hoping their hero gets the curtain call he’s earned.
