After driving from Inverness to Stirling, touring the castle, doing laundry, visiting the Falkirk Wheel and the Kelpies, we decided the next day to head back to Edinburgh. We didn’t feel like we had spent enough time in such a historic city.
Rather than drive in, we opted to take a train from the suburbs. Next to the station was a sports store warehouse. They had equipment for every conceivable sport from rock climbing to cycling. But, would they have baseball?
Baseball is certainly an American invention and is America’s game. I noted when landing first in Dublin, then Glasgow, the lack of baseball diamonds visible from the air. I have always paid attention to the various fields, easily identifiable from the small window of an airplane, anytime I travel in the US.
Thus, it was with curiosity that I set about this large wharehouse style sports store to see if they had anything in stock for America’s game.
In a far corner of the store, past the kayaks, mountain climbing ropes, skis and every other assortment of sports gear, I discovered a small 4 foot by 6 foot section devoted to baseball. It was not well stocked, a few lefty gloves, some baseballs and kids bats.
And then I saw it. Next to the famous Yankees logo and above the buried Red Sox hat, the PITTSBURGH PIRATES. My childhood team. My favorite team. My hometown team. That small market, low budget, great stadium team from a blue-collar mid-western US city. Oh the beauty of that moment, to be so far from home in a country that hasn’t adopted our national past time but to find my team’s cap.
It is seriously one of my proudest sports moments. Up there with the Cueto wild card game, the James Harrison 100 yard pick six in Superbowl 43, my brother winning 2 college football national championships…. oh the glory of it all.
Let’s go Bucs!
After this, it was off to Britain’s version of TJ Maxx, TK Maxx.