Monday, August 9, 2010
The PNC Park Experience
Ballpark review? Hardly. What, you think I was wondering around taking notes and posing for pictures beside statues? No thanks. There were ales to enjoy and keyboard cat t-shirts to witness with mine own eyes.
Why belabour the point that the Rogers Centre is grim concrete toilet bowl; more suitable for a mass grave than playing host to the Massholes? PNC utter destroys the RC with its interesting and diverse food selections (of which I tried none), excellent beer list (of which I tried many) and jaw-dropping view of the Pittsburgh core and bridge system. You don't need to hear that.
But that doesn't make the ballpark experience on its own. Not even a crazy four-hour game — with an insane win probability chart that look like/gives me a boner — is enough to make a trip to the ballpark an experience. Making a herd of new friends is a great place to start but still; something special needs to stick out in your mind.
Cue the top of the 9th inning. The Pirates stage a dramatic (for the Pirates) rally, bringing up pinch hitter (and erstwhile Blue Jays target) Ryan Doumit. On-hand Pirates blogger and source Pat of the great Where Have You Gone, Andy Van Slyke (who put up with not only my Jose Bautista ribbing but my Montreal Canadiens razzing too) mentioned earlier that Doumit's walkup music is Mother by Danzig.
Up strolls Doumit and the Mother riffs crash down on sold-out PNC Park. While most bob their heads or nervously clap, three rows strong of Walkoff Walk associated degenerates proceed to SCREAM Mother at the top of their collective lungs. Rockies manager Jim Tracy took the opportunity (winning run on first base) to stage a mound meeting. Which meant a little more Danzig - which meant more singing. The entire first verse and chorus, thankyouverymuch. The music actually stopped but the HEIST crew rolled on, much to the delight/horror/disdain of Yinzers on the first base line.
That, my friends, is a ballpark experience. Wins, losses, expensive sandwiches, face-melting walkoff homers, all eventually fade away. But 30 like-minded goofs singing a hilarious and/or great rock song released in 1988 is the kind of thing you tend to remember. Forever.