How did I miss the all-important public directive that when Pitt plays football at Heinz Field, spectators are not permitted to bring ANYTHING into the stadium? No bags, purses, pouches, or fanny packs allowed.
“Uh, it can only be the size of my hand,” the reluctant gatekeeper said, balling his hand into a fist to demonstrate the maximum carry-in size. He shrugged apologetically and seemed to feel bad for us, not because he had to turn us away, but probably because he couldn’t believe two people could be so out of touch with Pittsburgh reality as to think it’s possible to walk into a Pitt game carrying a small-ish purse and camera case.
After I removed only the most necessary items from my wallet, my gallant, but annoyed, husband returned to lock the contraband in our car, while I took my ticket and made my way up the escalator to meet our friends.
Let’s get this out now. Pitt lost. They played Notre Dame, which out-ranked and out-played Pitt from the beginning snap. But that’s not the point, because I had a blast!
Playing the devil, I enjoyed reminding my diehard Michigan alum husband how much more spacious and comfortable our seats were at Heinz Field compared to sitting on a sardine-packed bleachers at the Big House. I enjoyed the noise, atmosphere, band, cheerleaders and dancers.
Mostly, I loved seeing so many families there and got a kick out of kid-watching. Now that my kids are grown, it is fun to be reminded how silly and funny young kids are in public. A 7-ish year old boy sitting behind us chattered happily throughout the game and every time I stood up or glanced back, he was either bouncing in his seat, bouncing on someone’s lap, or sprawling himself across multiple seats and laps.
Another boy walked around with his sweatshirt pulled up over his head. When he had to go to the bathroom or had some reason to walk down the bleachers, someone appointed his patient older brother to escort him. Although the younger boy impressed me with his skill at maneuvering stairs with a sweatshirt pulled over his head, the older brother remained aloof, as if he had seen his little bro do it a million times.
They made me laugh.
The 50-degree fall weather that afternoon was warm for a football game, but I appreciated it and was glad I didn’t have to wear a jacket and gloves. I’m sure the kid with the sweatshirt appreciated it too, because it might have been a little trickier going up and down those stairs with a puffy parka pulled over his head.
It was a great afternoon and I look forward to the next time I have the chance to go to a Pitt game. Trust me, you won’t have to remind me to leave my purse behind.