Oh, What a Night

Last night, I went to PNC Park with a small group of people, but large enough we had to take two vehicles. My daughter Anna, her boy friend James, my longtime friend, Kathy, her three nieces, Sierra, Emily, and Amber made the trek to see the Pirates play the Marlins. Unfortunately, the Pirates lost, but that didn’t dampen our spirits.

This was the first game that James ever attended. He didn’t like to watch it when I had the game on at home. I understood. Watching golf and basketball on the T.V. doesn’t excite me however being at an event is much different.

Going into Pittsburgh, we took the Pennsylvania toll road to be sure we got there in time. Anna was following and was cut off by a wonderful, gentlemanly truck driver several times. He was hauling a huge I-beam. I know that they have to keep their speed up, but why he would cut in between when there was barely enough room for to squeeze in baffles me.

In Pittsburgh, we made a few wrong turns and finally found a parking garage. Pittsburgh real estate must be at a premium. The tight turns in that garage were extreme. Walking across the Clemente Bridge was a nice stroll. Musicians played, trying to elicit tips, the water was beautiful, and the crowd leisurely wandered over all lane of the bridge, traffic was stopped for the game. Carrying signs, snacks, and drink we made our entrance into the park and found our seats about 25 rows behind third base. It wasn’t the most ideal spot, but had a good view of the field.

One row in front of us was a young man and his blonde date. (No, I’m not going to make a blonde joke.) His face looked familiar and I’m glad that I didn’t ask his name, etc. When I got home I remembered who he looked like, it was the skinny dude on television from the T.V. program where two guys bid and buy unclaimed storage lockers, Alan and Ton. I’m sure it wasn’t him, but the similarity was striking.

Anna and I had made signs the day before. Hers read, “Raise the Jolly Roger,” and had the skull and crossbones on it. Mine was bigger and read, “Bloop it or blast ‘em, Just get it past ‘em.” It sported a large baseball and skull and crossbones. Anna’s made it onto the T.V. program, Root Sports, but as far as I know, mine didn’t.

However, late in the eighth inning or early ninth, the roving camera was taking photos of the crowd and panned over catching me in my mustard yellow shirt, Kathy, and her nieces me. Now, that was a sight. My white beard was waving in the breeze. I was surprised, but I had my moment of glory.

My sign had disappeared by then. It was a beautiful sign and didn’t want it to be a one time and toss poster. A man and his two kids had been sitting beside me and as they went to leave, I asked if they would be coming back again this season. When he said yes, I gave it to them. Hopefully, my poster will make it on T.V. even if it’s without me.

Food, friends, and fun, that is the essence of some of our memories.