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Saturday, March 29, 2003 |
Saturday in Pittsburgh![]() We left the house around 7:30 this morning, bound for the City of Pittsburgh. Headed into town to see what we could see, and then move on beyond. We began with breakfast at DeLuca's, down in the Strip District. I had the Mixed Grill, a pile of mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, and peppers grilled and served over hashbrowns and with Italian Bread Toast and Hot Italian Sausage. Hot Coffee topped it off, and away through the rain we went.
Wandering up Penn, passing markets the likes of which I have never seen. Real butcher shops, produce markets, bakeries, Italian delis. It's all so surreal, like I've stepped back through some portal into an era I had not expected. We picked up fresh garlic and basil sausage for dinner on Sunday night, fresh made pasta and bread, all in little storefronts. Artisans who work in both bread and clay. A truly striking morning. Afterward, we went over to the new PNC Park that sits across the river from the old Three Rivers site, right at the foot of Clemente Bridge. I took a lot of photos, and bought tickets for the game on Saturday, May 24th against the Cardinals. The Park may be new, but the ghosts of Wagner, Stargell and Clemente haunt the place, for you can feel the baseball there, thick as fog. Despite the rain today, we walked around the perimeter of the stadium, up to the bank of the Monongahela River. The statue of Roberto looks into Center Field, a discarded bat falling from his hands and he runs to leave the batter's box. Beyond him, a surprise, an open gate amidst the closed ones, beckoning us inside like a chorale coming from the open door of a cathedral. We wander along the outfield perimeter, staring into the verdant green of the outfield grass. A solitary groundskeeper in a yellow rain suit is tending to the infield. The drainage is flawless. Were it not slippery, a game could be going on today. Around the far side of the park, we exit through another strangely open gate beyond the right field line and head back to our car, richer for the experience, and blessing the Baseball Gods, who opened a gate where it was once closed, and showing its mystery to us once again.
"We wandered down Mazeroski Way" |