Us 1, Joe 0 - Monday, August 27

When the weather was perfect, we thought Cleveland was ugly.  But when we awoke to a rain storm Monday morning, Cleveland took Ugly to a whole other level.  We packed up the car, got on the freeway, and swore on our respective future children never to return.  We didn't even stop to enjoy Cleveland's beautiful scenery or Cleveland's Cleveland's best breakfast spot.

It took us just over two hours to make the 130 mile drive to Pittsburgh.  We decided to check out Mount Washington, an upscale suburb in the heart of Pittsburgh known for its beautiful views of the city skyline.  But Justin was navigating.  So we got lost.  Several times.  Once we were up there it was easy to see what all the fuss was about. 

Pittsburgh skyline, Cleveland weather

Can you get any more meta?

We got a better photo when we returned at night

To avoid paying for parking at the stadium we decided to leave the Focus on a local street in Mount Washington and take the incline down.  "What the hell is an incline?!" you ask.  Great question.  Back in The Day immigrant workers struggled to carry the city's large supply of coal from the flat surfaces of the city center up the steep hill leading to Mount Washington and its surrounding areas.  So they built several inclines -- which are basically functional chair lifts -- to transport materials up and down.  With minimal practical application, most inclines are out of service, but the city has kept a couple running for the sake of tradition (and tourism).

We walked up to the incline station and met Dave, the station's attendant.  Dave's in his mid-40s and is a Pittsburgh native.  It wasn't long before our conversation turned to food and drink.  Dave suggested the ride on the incline is best appreciated with a beverage.  Dave was fun.  We doubled back and quickly found a Chinese restaurant advertising "Beer To Go."  The place felt shady from the jump.  The restaurant was completely empty aside from two workers: an elderly woman watching a Chinese soap opera and a middle-aged man running around in the back.  The man saw us and approached.  "What do you guys need?" he asked.  "We're for here beer," I proclaimed.  He gave us several options of bottles, cans, six packs, and 40s.  The exchange reminded me of the scene from Hangover 2 when -- attempting to find their lost friend -- the Wolfpack walk into a club and tell the manager, "We're looking for a kid."  The manager responds with, "Two thousand dollars.  Maybe more.  How young do you want this kid to be?"  [Justin's Note: The exchange did not reminder me of The Hangover 2.  This might be because I have not see The Hangover 2.]  I decided on a Miller Light and a brown bag.  Justin elected to take the unconventional approach and bought a root beer to accompany his flask filled with whiskey.

We inclined down and rode a short trolley to the stadium.  Downtown Pittsburgh is great if you bleed black and gold (all four of the city's professional sports franchises wear these two colors).  The streets are clean and have several eating and drinking options a short walk from PNC Park and Heinz Field, where the Steelers play.

We stopped in at Finnigan's Wake, a dive bar by any standard.  I walked up to the bartender and asked if they had a happy hour.  "At 5 o'clock we have $3 drafts," he said.  I looked down at my watch.  It was 5:00.  It was going to be one of those days.  

Justin took a seat and asked what local brews they served.  "Well, we have Iron City Lager," the bartender told us.  "Eh, that sounds a little too heavy," Justin responded.  "Do you have anything lighter?"  "How bout the Iron City Amber?"  "Not interested in that," Justin whined.  The bartender looked confused.  "We also have the Iron City Light, if that's your thing."  "Do you have another, say, more effeminate beer?"  Justin inquired.  "How bout the Iron City Mango?"  "Hmm.  Do you have that in Light?" Justin asked, fingers crossed.  "As a matter of fact we do."  "Perfect!" Justin yelped.  [Justin's Note: Almost none of this true.]  [Ari's Note: Did you or did you not order an Iron City Mango Light beer?]  [Justin's Note: Pictures or it didn't happen.]  [Ari's Note: Did you or did you not order the second beer from the right?]  [Justin's Note: Yeah, I ordered the second beer from the right.]  

After finishing our beers we left Finnigan's and stopped at a bar directly across the street from PNC Park.  Mullen's had a great atmosphere.  Immediately upon entering we were greeted by a pretty blonde overseeing a bucket of ice cold beers.  Any place that serves you beer on the way to the bar is fine by me.  We found a seat and ordered their housemade chicken wings.  By the time they arrived Justin was Billy-Joel-drunk and proceeded to dunk the wings into his beer.  [Justin's Note: Unfortunately, all of this is true.]  The strangest thing about Mullen's -- other than the fact that one of its patrons was dunking chicken wings into his beer -- is what we found in the bathroom: an attendant handing out breath mints, hand sanitizer, and paper towels.  The attendant had the shape of a male but the face of a female.  [Justin's Note: I thought it was the other way around.]  We had two questions.  Why was there a bathroom attendant in a dive bar?  And were we in the wrong bathroom or was she/he?  

Twelve wings and four beers later we were ready ... to walk to the next bar.  There, we each ordered a beer and a sandwich to take into the game.  About 30 feet from the stadium entrance I spotted a vendor with reasonable beer prices.  I couldn't help myself.  Twenty seconds later I was stumbling into the ballpark with unusually bulky shorts.

We saw this guy on the way to the stadium.  Justin tried to surreptitiously sneak a photo of him, but the guy saw him.  Instead of getting upset, however, he posed.  We have no explanation for what you see in this photo. 

The Pittsburgh Pirates are relevant for the first time since this happened.  We saw them against divisional rival St. Louis, which would normally mean expensive tickets.  But the forecast called for rain and we snagged 25-cent tickets on StubHub.  It costs more to mail a letter than we paid for each ticket.

The rain also meant that a lot of people with good seats decided not to show.  Who were we not to take advantage?  We settled on the fourth row, directly behind the Cardinals’ dugout.  Our seats were phenomenal:

We had a great view of the scoreboard and left field.

We had a great view of the Pittsburgh skyline.

We had a great view of the action.

We had a great view of outfielder Matt Holliday's head.

Everything was fine until the top of the second inning, when the people whose seats we were in showed up.  Having spent two weeks on the road – and two weeks of sitting in seats that we did not purchase – we were accustomed to this.  Typically we just slide down the row to nearby empty seats.  

But not this time.   Not on Joe’s watch.  

Joe was the usher in Section 13 this fine night and he wasn’t going to have two scumbags like me and Justin mosey on into his section and get away with it.  “Get outta here!” he yelled.  “These aren’t your seats!”  Justin and I were not amused.  Or sober.  Justin looked straight into Joe’s eyes and boldly declared, “Oh, we’ll be back.”

In the meantime we had to leave.  We settled on seats atop the Pirates dugout, which afforded more great views.

The back of outfielder Andrew McCutchen's head.

Overall PNC Park offers an amazing experience to watch a baseball game.  When surveyed, most fans say PNC Park is the best stadium in all of baseball.  It’s easy to understand why.  Three things stood out to us:

• Despite having opened more than a decade ago the stadium feels brand new.  It was probably cleaner than any stadium we visited. 

Very clean.

• The seats are on top of the field.  No, not literally.  That would be weird.  But the stadium was clearly built with the fans in mind.  Our seats were closer to the field than in any other stadium we visited.  We were so close we could hear the runners’ feet pound the dirt as they sprinted towards first base. 

• The views are unparalleled.  Practically every seat in the house offers sightlines of nearby downtown. The city skyscrapers, multiple bridges, and the nearby Allegheny River just beyond the right field wall can make you forget you’re attending a baseball game.  

Pirates of the Pittsburgh rally the crowd with a scene from Pirates of the Caribbean.      

The game itself was entertaining.  It provided arguably the best pitching match-up of the trip: Kyle Lohse vs. AJ Burnett.  The Pirates jumped out to an early 2-0 lead, but it was only a matter of time until Burnett reverted to his former Yankee-pitching ways.  The game was tied in the fourth inning when the rain began pelting the field and the stands.  This delayed the action for thirty-five minutes.  

It was Walter White Night at the ballpark.

Justin and I deemed this a perfect time to try Pittsburgh’s famous Primanti Brothers sandwich, which happens to have a location at PNC Park.  Their calling card is that they take traditional sides – French fries and coleslaw – and place them inside their meaty sandwiches. We had heard from several locals that the hero is nothing special, but it’s a “definite must have.”  It turns out only one of those statements is accurate. The sandwich is, in fact, nothing special.  I didn’t anticipate it to be the tastiest sandwich in the world, but it was being lauded by Pittsburghsonians – manly, blue-collar, steel-carrying workers – as their signature delicacy.  I was expecting it to be messy, overstuffed, and manly.  It was none of these things.  As our Uncle Jonathan might say, it was “fine.”  To be completely honest, I’ve seen my dog Maximus prepare a more impressive sandwich.  And Maximus doesn’t even make that good of a sandwich.  [Justin's Note: Maximus makes a pretty good sandwich.]

Sandwich, about to be eaten

Justin, about to be disappointed

After surviving the rain and tolerating the Primanti Brothers sandwich, we decided it was time to make good on Justin's vow.  We returned to Joe's section above the first base dugout.

Hey Joe, we're in your section.

Hey Joe, you look Lou Holtz.

Of course, when we got to Joe's section, we celebrated.

When we finished celebrating, we decided to memorialize our victory.  I approached Joe and asked if he would take a photo with me.  He said yes.

As Justin got ready to take the photo, Joe had second thoughts.  Maybe he remembered us from earlier.  Maybe he's camera shy.  Or maybe he didn't like the bear-hug I gave him.  

I think the photo came out well.