No Regrets!

Rob and I woke up early to load his adorably sporty Kia Forte with clothes, gear, and snacks. GPS was configured. Wheels up at 6:11am with an odometer reading of 29,195. Rob immediately fired up “Beep Beep” by the Playmates, one of the songs from our western US road trip that still gives us a giggle.

Thick haze fills the sky this morning, shrouding everything in gray and turning the sun into a glowy, bright orange orb floating low in the sky. This might be a thing for the read of our road trip, as raging wildfires in Canada are casting smoke across most of the northeast US. Might make for interesting photo opportunities.

Our first stop of the trip was the grave of pitching great Walter Johnson in nearby Rockville, Maryland. The quaint Rockville Cemetery has a cool serenity to it, especially with the haze. A nice resting place. Rob and I spotted the graves of Dick and Butt as we drove in.

Walter Perry Johnson (November 6, 1887 – December 10, 1946), nicknamed “Barney” and “The Big Train”, was an American professional baseball player and manager.

Often regarded as one of the greatest pitchers in baseball history, Johnson established several pitching records, some of which remain unbroken nine decades after he retired from baseball. He remains by far the all-time career leader in shutouts with 110, second in wins with 417, and fourth in complete games with 531. He held the career record in strikeouts for nearly 56 years, with 3,508. Johnson led the league in strikeouts a Major League record 12 times—one more than current strikeout leader Nolan Ryan—including a record eight straight seasons.

In 1936, Johnson was elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame as one of its “first five” inaugural members. His gentle nature was legendary, and to this day he is held up as an example of good sportsmanship, while his name has become synonymous with friendly competition.

There seems to be a family marker for the Johnson family, and it is laden with baseballs and hats and other memorabilia that by appearances has been sitting there for months. Next to it, there are smaller stones for Walter and his wife Hazeltine.

Then a quick breakfast stop at Chick-Fil-A and back on the road through several highway interchanges and the pretty, Pennsylvania hills. Rob is quite aggressive with his cruise control around mountain bends with traffic, but I guess risking our lives to give us a few extra minutes at the Space Acorn is worth it.

Our drive continued through cute little Pennsylvania towns and Amish country, even passed a horse and buggy along the way. I was going to say that both of our musical tastes have improved since our western US road trip back in 2000, but I reconsidered this when Rob played “A Lap Dance Is So Much Better When The Stripper Is Crying” by Bloodhound Gang. I followed this up with “The Rodeo Song”, a hilariously rude melody by Garry Lee and the Showdown. So maybe we’re on the same level.

We finally pulled up to the Space Acorn in the tiny town of Kecksville, PA.

On the evening of December 9, 1965, a large, brilliant fireball was seen in at least six U.S. states and Ontario, Canada as it streaked over the Detroit, Michigan–Windsor, Ontario area. Reports of hot metal debris over Michigan and northern Ohio, grass fires, and sonic booms in the Pittsburgh metropolitan area were attributed to the fireball. Some people in the village of Kecksburg, about 30 miles (48 km) southeast of Pittsburgh, reported wisps of blue smoke, vibrations, and a “thump”, and also that something from the sky had crashed in the woods.

The incident gained wide notoriety in popular culture and UFOlogy, with speculation ranging from extraterrestrial craft to debris from the Soviet space probe Kosmos 96, and is often called “Pennsylvania’s Roswell”.

The Space Acorn was crap. A brown acorn made of rotting styrofoam painted brown with fancy “alien writing” has been perched atop a gravel parking lot. The acorn looks more like a poop emoji than anything, with an uninspired sign showing the date of the event and no other signage or plaques anywhere with more information.

After a few minutes of disappointment, we walked back to the car and were greeted by a couple of unsophisticated locals with the teeth and the accents and everything, who informed us that “it” fell into a nearby “holler” (which is a hollow or valley, according to Rob who is fluent in yokel) off nearby Meteor Road and was “hauled away without anyone sayin’ nothin’”. They couldn’t resist making a weird Biden joke when their little boy’s plastic tractor ran out of battery juice, repeating the comment several times to make sure we heard it in the hopes that we would laugh along with them.

Rob and I took a quick look at the serene but otherwise unremarkable valley where “it” fell and then got back on the road. Running a bit late for our baseball game, Rob drove like a bat out of hell to Pittsburgh.

After zipping through downtown and finding a spot in our parking garage, Rob and I got changed into our baseball gear and made our way on foot across the Andy Warhol Bridge to PNC Park for our game featuring the Oakland Athletics and Pittsburgh Pirates. We walked into the park, and I felt tingles. I was overcome by how easy the entrance was, how friendly security was, how nicely designed and spacious and clean the interior was, and how quickly things opened up to present us with impressive, panoramic views of the field. Within moments, we were down at our seats in the first row on the left field wall. The game had just started, and the first batter of the game was at the plate. Impeccable timing.

Our seats were wonderful, low enough and with an outfield wall low enough to make us feel like we were sitting on the left field grass with Pirates left fielder Bryan Reynolds and A’s left fielder Seth Brown. Rob brought his mitt in the hopes of catching a home run ball, so he got the aisle seat. And they weren’t even seats, they were proper bleachers. How cool! Bleacher benches allow people to take up their own space rather than being confined by seats and armrests that never seem to fit quite right, and they’re something I’m not used to in most of the parks I frequent, so they were a nice surprise.

The game was an extra thrill for Rob, who grew up in the Oakland area and has been a lifelong A’s fan. He was decked out in his bright green A’s jersey and cap for the game. But as an A’s fan, it’s also been a rough year for Rob, as his team is having a historically awful season and seems headed out of Oakland to Las Vegas in the next couple of years. Rob admitted that this would probably be the last time he’d see an Oakland A’s game in person.

And what a thrill it was for Rob to see Oakland jump out to an early lead with 7 runs in the first inning. As a very conspicuous A’s fan, he made quick friends with fans sitting across the aisle. While I mostly kept to myself and baked in the sun and took photos, Rob took every opportunity to talk to people, whether it was other fans, ushers, security guards, or left fielders. I’m pretty sure he’d talk to the damn foul pole if he was sitting close enough to it. Good on him, though. He made most everyone crack a smile with his charm and stupid jokes.

After a pierogy mascot race in the 5th inning, Rob blew a kiss to the Pirate Parrot, the team’s lovable green, furry parrot mascot, as he passed us on the outfield grass. The Parrot turned toward us and took a running leap over the outfield wall, where Rob caught him and helped him over. Quite a surprise! The excitement was tempered by what seemed to be an injury to the Parrot’s leg. After Rob released him, the Parrot bent down to feel his ankle, got up again to place his beak around Rob’s head for a quick bite, and then made his way up the aisle and out of view, not to be seen again for the remainder of the game.

At the start of the 6th inning, we got up to take a stroll around the stadium and take photos. Rob and I were both blown away by the sheer beauty, spaciousness, and clever layout of the ballpark. One secret to the park is the limited outfield seating, which offers the intimacy of a minor league field but opens up to a picturesque view of downtown Pittsburgh, with its varied architecture and bright yellow bridges. I wondered if limited this outfield seating affected the overall capacity of PNC Park, but it turns out capacity is around 39,000, only slightly below the major league average. In the spirit of spaciousness, even the tops of the dugouts are open and sunken into the field.

Casual barstool seating and high-top tables are located throughout the outfield. Every turn revealed clever and functional layouts, interesting and nicely designed nooks and crannies, attention to detail, and everything was so clean and new, despite the park opening back in 2001. To me, it seems like the perfect layout for a ballpark, and they’ve done an incredible job keeping it clean and feeling new. It didn’t take long for Rob and I to agree that this might be the most beautiful ballpark we had ever been to. And we’ve been to a lot of them. I’d love to return here for a night game. I’m sure it’s even more beautiful with a view of illuminated downtown Pittsburgh as the backdrop.

The only flaw, and I’m trying my hardest to be critical here, is that there’s a support column blocking the view from the concourse at the top of the field level seats at the exact midpoint of the stadium behind home plate. This ruins what would be an impressive photographic vantage point. But really, this is nitpicking. This place is amazing and more than lives up to the hype.

As we walked around, I continued to be impressed by everyone’s kindness and friendliness. Ushers and security guards smiled and really made us feel welcome. Fans spotting Rob in his Oakland green even ribbed him good-naturedly as we walked around the park.

We returned to our seats for the end of the game. It ended with an Oakland win, making Rob happy and setting him up for some more friendly ribbing from fans on our way out. Before leaving the field, Rob made himself and his green Oakland gear visible to Oakland pitcher Sam Moll, who happily tossed him a ball from the field.

Upon leaving the ballpark, Rob and I scanned the neighborhood for food options. Rob took it upon himself to question a cop directing pedestrians at the corner for some food recommendations. He happily suggested a place called Burgatory, and a quick look at TripAdvisor confirmed that it was ranked highly and an excellent choice. We made our way around the other side of the stadium to the restaurant and sat down for what would turn out to be an epic meal of truly amazing bison burgers. What a fantastic spot! Even the staff there was super-friendly. Friendliness really seems to be a thing for Pittsburgh.

After that, Rob and I went for a little stroll around downtown Pittsburgh. With its bridges and waterfront and open pedestrian walkways and panoramic views of the surrounding hills, Pittsburgh is a beautifully walkable city. Our first stop was the Fred “Mister Rogers” Memorial right on the water, featuring a cool statue of Mr. Rogers reminiscent of the Albert Einstein statue on DC’s National Mall.

Then across the Fort Duquesne Bridge to the magical, glass complex of PPG Plaza, through trendy and cool Market Square, and finally back to our car.

We zipped over to the Duquesne Incline, Pittsburgh’s famous funicular built in 1877 that runs to the top of Mount Washington, a hill offering great views of downtown Pittsburgh and many of the bridges along the river.

Then came the baseball stops. It was already early evening, so we tried to cram in as much as we could into what remaining daylight we had left.

First, we zipped over to Heinz Field (now officially called Acrisure Stadium after the Michigan-based insurance company took over naming rights in 2022) in search of a historical marker and the original home plate location of Three Rivers Stadium. We were informed by the parking attendant, who was of course friendly as hell, that the home plate had been removed. Undeterred, Rob parked the car, and we scoured the lot for any sign of where the home plate might have been, but we couldn’t find anything. Only thing I found in the parking lot was a fresh pile of vomit, likely from a fan at the boy band concert booming nearby. So this was a miss.

Our next stop was just outside of town at Allegheny Cemetery, where the gravesite of the legendary Josh Gibson can be found. We were disappointed to arrive and find that the vehicle gate was already closed, and even more disappointed to learn it would be nearly a mile walk through the massive cemetery grounds to get to the grave on foot. Looking at the setting sun, Rob and I fully committed to our mission and booked it across the cemetery.

Josh Gibson (December 21, 1911 – January 20, 1947) was an American baseball catcher primarily in the Negro leagues. Gibson was known as a spectacular power hitter who, by some accounts, hit close to 800 career home runs. He was known as the “black Babe Ruth”; in fact, some fans at the time who saw both Ruth and Gibson play called Ruth “the white Josh Gibson”. Gibson never played in the major leagues because of the unwritten “gentleman’s agreement” that prevented non-white players from participating.

When we finally found Gibson’s grave at the top of one of the cemetery’s many hills, it was not at all what we expected. The John Gibson grave is a simple stone in the ground just like many others. Laid around it were a few lame baseball cards, a bobblehead, a couple of cheap baseballs, and a small collection of colored Easter eggs. Most disappointing of all is that the stone itself was surrounded and partially covered by weeds.

Research revealed that Gibson laid in an unmarked grave until a small plaque was placed there in 1975. But it’s obvious that no one really maintains it, and that makes me sad. I’m surprised that the Hall of Fame or MLB or the Veteran’s Committee hasn’t done more to maintain the grave and glorify one of baseball’s greatest heroes, especially given the recent movement to more legitimately recognize the Negro Leagues.

Rob, who has extensive experience as a groundskeeper, took the lead clearing away weeds and twigs from around the stone. We took some photos that were greatly enhanced by the sun setting through the trees at the end of the day. Again, impeccable timing. Immediately next to the Gibson grave are others who don’t share Gibson’s last name but died in 1947 just like Gibson. I wonder if they were relatives, or if this was just a time and place where people were buried as efficiently and unceremoniously as possible.

With dusk setting in, we only had time to make one more stop, and we chose to head to the historical location of Forbes Field. A portion of the outfield wall is preserved in its original location on the campus of the University of Pittsburgh and was easy enough to find. We parked right next to it and hopped out for some creative photos and selfies with the last bit of light in the sky.

I had read that the original home plate of Forbes Field had also been preserved near its original location, but that the location was now inside the Wesley W. Posvar Hall building across the street. I doubted that it would be open to the public at 9pm, but Rob and I were absolutely delighted to find the doors unlocked. We walked in, made our way down the main hallway, and finally found the Forbes Field home plate. Online research reveals that its true, original location would place it inside a women’s restroom, so it was moved for obvious reasons to its current location. Finding the Forbes Field home plate was the icing on the cake and a perfect way to wrap up our day.

Walking back to our car, we noticed a brick line and little plaques along the sidewalk that marked the original location of the rest of the outfield wall. So cool!

An incredible first day. Now, relaxing in our Pittsburgh hotel room, Rob and I are amazed at the number of things that we were able to cram into it. Everything went like clockwork, our timing for everything was impeccable, and our only quibble is that maybe we shouldn’t have stopped at Chick-Fil-A to eat breakfast this morning. The key to a perfect road trip, I think, is to come up with a very detailed and ideal itinerary for each day but to be flexible enough to make changes on the fly.

We have a few more Pittsburgh stops tomorrow morning, and then we’re off to Cleveland for more adventures!