So...Pittsburgh

So...Pittsburgh

In light of the senseless acts of violence that were perpetrated by a coward, I feel the need to express my love for my favorite city.

I started going to Pittsburgh on a regular basis as child in love with the Pittsburgh Pirates. As a child with a verbally abusive father (we made up, eventually) I looked at Jim Leyland, Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Spanky Lavalliere, etc. as role models. So when I got the chance as a member of the Knot Hole Gang (remember Hills department stores yinzers?), I did it.

I sat in the cold, sterile, cookie-cutter Three Rivers Stadium nose bleeds and felt like a Rooney in the owner's box. This was my team, my stadium and my city.

I remember vividly waiting for HOURS in the Three Rivers Stadium parking lots (my 9 year old self may still be there). I remember breaking my first law (*this is not an admission of guilt) when I walked down to the river to pee. I was nervous the police would catch me until at a later game I saw a policeman peeing in the same river (Yinzers rule).

I remember the first time I came thru the Fort Pitt tunnels...just breathtaking. Nothing else needs to be said about that.

I remember chasing dinkus all the way to Pittsburgh for an adult kickball league (um...how many championships did your team win before I joined, dinkus?). I went down expecting a typical beer league played for fun. I do not know why I thought that. This was Pittsburgh, where nothing supercedes sports and our love of them. This was a serious league with real athletes. Blood, sweat and, yes, beer was spilled on those fields. That being said all the players had respect for each other (except for that one player and you know who you are).

My greatest memory with that abusive father took place in Pittsburgh...at a Pirate game. I encourage you read about it here. Thank you for that opportunity Pittsburgh.

My first job out of college was with the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review selling ad space in that grieving neighborhood, the very unique Squirrel Hill. I met hundreds of people in that neighborhood and some really didn't like the Trib, it was the conservative paper and Squirrel Hill is a liberal neighborhood. I knew some of those local owners would never spend a dime with my paper, but it got to the point that I just enjoyed bull shitting with them (it was always sports...always). I pray for those people.

I am sure people think their city is different, is one one-of-a-kind, is the greatest...but you are wrong (kinda kidding). My city full of pierogie-eating, putting fries-on-salad, pop-drinking, buggie-pushing, Italian, Polish, Black, German, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, Methodist, Quaker men and women is better than yours (and yinz can take'at to the bank).