Great American Bro'd Trip Day Six
A look at PNC Park, the best stadium with the worst team
After several frozen cocktails at Under the Volcano on empty stomachs, converted Houstonians Jeremy C. Little (a publicist) and Colin “Dabbo” Dabbs (a junior high history teacher) finally decided to do it. Eight days, 10 Major League ballparks, the Budweiser brewery, and enough fried food to give Carlos Lee the gout. It’s the Great American Bro'd Trip and this is the account of day six, a rare day of near rest in the epic journey.
Day 6: Mars, Penn.—Washington,, DC: 261 miles
Major League park for a minor league team
Still reeling from Daniel Bard’s meltdown against the Indians, we rolled into the Steel City (Pittsburgh if you didn't know) to check out PNC Park, home of the woeful Pittsburgh Pirates, the once proud franchise that Stephen Strasburg memorably eviscerated in his first career major league start.
Conforming to the architectural trend of classic / modern fusion that started with the opening of Baltimore Orioles' Camden Yards in 1992, PNC Park is nothing short of thrilling to see. With Pittsburgh’s surprisingly dynamic skyline looming in the outfield, PNC should stand as the template for any future ballpark construction.
The locals had nothing but great things to say about the park, even if I can’t reprint what they had to say about the team.
The seventh-inning stretch
After six days and over 2000 miles, we decided to lay low for a night in the nation’s capital. Dabbo shacked up with a childhood friend and his wife, while I temporarily relived my “wandering year” of 2006 by linking up with the DC contingent of my old college drinking team; the same group with whom I lived for several non-consecutive weeks in the spring and summer of 2006 before migrating south to the green pastures of Houston.
Baltimore drive-by tomorrow . . .