Steven Brault
I’ve seen a lot of moments from the sidelines, but watching Steven Brault launch one into the Denver sky was unforgettable. Here’s a pitcher—yes, pitcher—sending a ball so far it shut me up for once. We laughed about the “Coors Field effect,” but 441 feet is 441 feet. What struck me more was how Steven lit up talking about where he played: the sea of red in St. Louis, childhood seats turned pitching mound in San Diego, the postcard view at PNC. For him, it wasn’t just baseball—it was family, memory, and the magic of the ballpark.
What do you remember about hitting that home run at Coors Field?
I’d never hit a ball like that in my life. I was always more of a contact hitter—line drives, doubles. That night, I got the perfect pitch and put the perfect swing on it. Off the bat, I knew: “That’s gone.” The feeling was incredible, like the ball just melts off the bat. And the best part? I went to college in Denver, so all my college teammates were there. They’d seen me hit and pitch, and they were in the stands the night I hit the best ball of my life.
What was the clubhouse like afterward?
Honestly, some guys used to get frustrated with me because I’d only take batting practice once a week and still get hits. So when I hit that homer, everybody was happy for me. Sure, I heard plenty of “Coors Field” jokes. My response is always: “441 feet—that’s gone anywhere.”
You made your debut in St. Louis—what do you remember about Busch Stadium?
Two things: the heat and the red. Everything was red—the seats, the fans, even the details in the ballpark. It felt like being in a giant coliseum. I was nervous—could’ve thrown the first pitch into the dugout and not been surprised. But when Matt Holliday smoked a ball right at the first baseman for a double play, I thought: “Okay, baseball is still baseball.” That calmed me down. And St. Louis… they’re one of the best baseball towns. They clap even for the opposing team when a good play is made. That’s the kind of baseball I love.
Was it intimidating to step into that third deck in St. Louis?
Absolutely. In the minors, you’re used to stands a certain depth behind home plate. At Busch, the seats just go up and back forever. It looks like home plate is 90 feet further away. Took me a couple of warmups to convince myself the distance was still the same.
What was it like pitching in your hometown at Petco Park?
It was amazing. I grew up going to games in those outfield seats. Suddenly, I was on the mound. The emotions—you don’t want to let your family and friends down. And the stress of everyone wanting tickets doesn’t make it easier. But once you’re out there, it’s the best.
Did you take pictures with your family on the field?
Yeah, before the game. Got them batting practice passes, and we all took pictures on the field. That’s a memory you can’t put a price on. To bring my family onto a major league field—it justified the obsession I had with baseball my whole life.
And what about PNC Park? You’ve seen it as both a player and a broadcaster.
As a player, I loved it—great mound, great grass, immaculate despite all the rain. And the view—Clemente Bridge, skyline—it’s stunning. But as a broadcaster, the view is even better. From the press box you see everything: the field, the city, the river. The fans here want to win, but they appreciate effort. I love Pittsburgh. The people have embraced me, maybe even more now as a broadcaster than as a player.
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More from Steven Brault
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.