Chris Miller
Some people go to the ballpark to watch the game. Chris Miller goes to belong to it. What started as a costume became a crew, a community, and somehow a legacy—one sword selfie and beer at a time. He’s made kids smile, built friendships with players, and turned the furthest corner of PNC Park into one of its most recognizable landmarks. I tried to get him to say how cool all that is, and it took me three tries. But if you listen closely, every story he tells is really about what happens when a ballpark feels like home.
What is the coolest thing about running and founding the Renegades of the Rotunda? How cool a life experience is that for you, your friends, and those that come up, hang out, drink beers, take pictures with you?
I never anticipated that it would become what it is. Never in a million years did I think we’d be Major League Fan of the Year, or meet the people we’ve met. But every day is special when you get to meet and interact with people at the ballpark.
Especially when you can create an experience for a kid—something just a little different than your normal trip to a ballpark. Some of my closest friendships started right there. A lot of the Renegades came from people seeing us and saying, “Hey, my buddy might like to do this.” And now we’re a part of someone’s game-day tradition.
I’ve seen how many kids come up to you. What’s that like when a parent asks for a picture with their kid—and you hand over your sword or make them smile?
If that’s a way we can make someone’s day better—why not? Roberto Clemente said, “If you’re not making a difference, you’re wasting your time on this earth.” I try to stress to everyone who joins us: we’re never too good for anybody.
We’re there to be part of the experience, part of the fandom. That’s why we chose that spot in the rotunda. It’s general admission. Anybody can find us. Anybody can join. It’s not mine—it’s ours.
You’re arguably sitting in the furthest seat in the stadium. What’s it like trying to pay attention to the game from up there?
Honestly, we have the best view. No one’s in our way. We can see defensive shifts, we can track fly balls. We know where it’s landing before most fans do. It’s like sitting up high at a football game—I like seeing the whole play develop.
PNC Park has incredible sightlines, but it’s small and intimate. Where we are, you get the big picture. You see the game the way it’s meant to be watched.
Let’s talk about the 2013 Wild Card game. What was that night like?
I didn’t wear a costume. I wore street clothes. I was there when the gates opened. I sat in my seat and didn’t move the entire night. It felt like something we had earned.
When Cueto dropped the ball, there were sparks in the air. I’ve never felt energy like that in any sporting event. When Russ hit that home run, the place exploded. Nobody sat down after that. And when the game ended, people cried. Tears of joy. Pure release.
It was therapy. It was the baseball equivalent of the first beer after you cut the grass.
What did that game represent for the city of Pittsburgh?
It represented hope. It was change. A break from years of bad baseball. I’ve seen three winning seasons in forty years. That night meant, “We can do this too.” It was a release of everything we’d carried as fans.
Pittsburgh is gritty, Rust Belt tough—and that night felt like we belonged again. Like we earned our seat back at the baseball table.
Do you remember Opening Day at PNC Park in 2001?
I do. Walking up through the home plate gate, taking the elevator, and seeing everything open up in front of you—the skyline, the grass, the crisp lines. It was our first real baseball stadium.
Three Rivers had no view, barely any grass. That day, with the sun shining, I remember thinking: This is a ballpark. This is the club. It felt like going to church.
You’re one of the main fans in a stadium many call the best in baseball. What does that mean to you?
It’s an honor. I never imagined it, but I remind myself how lucky I am. That ballpark is twenty miles from my house, and I get to be there forty-five times a year.
We’ve traveled. We’ve been to a lot of stadiums. PNC is the best. It’s not every day society nails something. But we nailed PNC Park. It belongs in the same conversation as the flush toilet and the milk crate. That’s how right they got it.
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More from Chris Miller
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.