The first and, hopefully, last time I used ChatGPT was at a jazz wine bar in Dublin, just over a week before Steelers fans were set to descend upon the city. What U.S. state is equivalent in size to Ireland? I typed, as a group called Organ Freeman played for a young crowd.
“West Virginia?!” I exclaimed at the bot’s answer. My husband, who was traveling with me, looked equally surprised. I would have guessed a mid-sized state, something in the area of North Carolina or Iowa, not Pennsylvania’s feral, beautiful cousin to the south.
And yet, the comparison seemed apt — while driving from Dublin to Galway to the oceanside community of Kinsale, then back to Dublin, the Republic of Ireland unfolded in endless greenery, similar to the state that rightfully bears the motto “Wild and Wonderful.” A similar environment exists just minutes outside Pittsburgh and across the commonwealth, as Pennsylvania boasts more than its fair share of verdant rolling hills, farmland, and wilderness.
However, Ireland comes dotted with small towns so enchantingly charming that I hardly believed them to be real. “Oh, come on!” I yelled in faux outrage at an ivy-covered, castle-like ruin surrounded by shaggy white ponies. Here, I encountered mountain goats while hiking the rocky terrain of Burren National Park, saw children playing hide-and-seek in the ruins of a four-century-old fort, and drove past miles of pastureland, with herds of sheep, cows, and horses enclosed by ancient-looking stone walls. It was almost as if the country was putting on a show, letting me know that, yes, the Ireland I saw depicted in old movies like John Ford’s The Quiet Man was indeed authentic.
That’s why seeing incongruous reminders of Pittsburgh shook me as I toured Dublin and Galway, and as I spied fellow travelers in Steelers gear during stops at various towns. Adding to the disconnect was that, when my husband and I booked the trip months ago, we had no idea that the team would follow us there for a matchup with the Minnesota Vikings. It wasn’t until just a few weeks before, when my husband saw someone with a Steelers Dublin shirt in the Strip District, that we realized the coincidence.
This historic game, part of the NFL’s Global Markets Program to expand its footprint overseas, could be partially attributed to the Steelers’ owners, the Rooney family, whose roots are traced back to what is now Newry in Northern Ireland. Before his death in 2017, patriarch Dan Rooney also served as U.S. Ambassador to Ireland during the Obama administration, cementing the NFL team’s connection to the Emerald Isle.
Before bringing a regular-season game to Ireland for the first time, the Steelers played there before, taking on the Chicago Bears in a preseason game in 1997 at Croke Park.
Walking through Dublin, various bars promoted the game with hand-painted window signs, black-and-gold (and, for the Vikings, purple-and-gold) balloon sculptures, and musicians pandering to U.S. customers with covers of traditional Irish tunes and “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers. From there, we drove about two hours to Galway, where a banner above the more touristy part of the city heralded the coming of the big game, and various shops sold official merch featuring football helmets wrapped in stereotypical Irish imagery (think Celtic knots and four-leaf clovers). Speaking of stereotypes, there were even electronic billboards encouraging Irish residents to visit the land of Heinz ketchup and big-time American sportsball (in one seemingly confused sign, a fan is featured cheering on either the Steelers or a local soccer team while wearing a Pirates hat).
As expected with any huge event, the hubbub was not without its detractors. It was at a bar in Galway that I heard a man behind me complain to the bartender about the sudden influx of American tourists. “They’re not well-trained,” he griped, to which the bartender shrugged and replied, “Most of them are from small towns.” My husband and I exchanged amused looks, wondering about the yinzer who got on this poor guy’s nerves. Though, to be fair, it could have also been some Minnesotan with a newly stamped passport. I also saw one person among the throngs of football fans in Dublin wearing a Philadelphia Eagles jersey (hell yeah, GO BIRDS!!!), so let’s not make assumptions.
While I didn’t stay to see the Steelers beat the Vikings 24-21 on Sept. 28 at Dublin’s Croke Park, I did experience the exciting build-up to the game on the preceding Friday night, as large crowds of American fans mingled with locals at various pubs, many of them dancing and singing, enjoying their first taste of Guinness on Irish soil, and taking in the sights along the River Liffey, where, like in Pittsburgh, numerous bridges stitch the city together. Watching the scene, I wondered if the whole affair would bring Irish travelers to Pittsburgh, where they, like me, might notice similarities to their home and experience awe at the new sights before them. Perhaps they could even be coaxed to West Virginia, but let’s take it one step at a time.
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