A skeptic might call it a cash-in, capitalizing on a captive crowd rolling into town after the Fenway love-in. And yes, the extra bodies and brisk beer sales certainly helped.
But, as with the Red Sox, it felt singular. Another baseball game, yet a completely different snapshot from a once-in-a-lifetime journey—stitched with football, friends, foot-long hot dogs, and some suspect sprints to first.
It was a ballpark night to treasure for years.
So much thought went into elevating the experience.
Even the concession stands offered a tartan-themed menu. A man with a Dundee United tattoo swore his mince-and-tattie hot dog was a nine out of ten—though still not as good as a day at Tannadice. Taste, eh?
Over on the far side, DJ CP—a warm soul draped in a Scotland flag—couldn’t wait to spin Bits and Pieces for the crowd, alongside the Beatles.
One home fan even shifted her season-ticket spot to the Scotland section for the night and brought along little traffic-cone keepsakes to hand out.
As the sun slipped behind the giant glass wall by Home Run Harbour and the ice cream stand, the Miami skyline faded, and the Scots cranked up the noise.
By the bottom of the sixth, the St Andrews Pipe Band of Miami, ringed by phones and selfie sticks, roared so mightily that a Marlins run was barely audible.
By the bottom of the eighth, a thunderous swing sent a shot screaming through the air like Cupid’s arrow, pulling Miami to within one of the Rangers.
Scotland supporters were on their feet celebrating—some even deliberately.
Heading into the ninth, Mr CP turned to the Proclaimers to spur the Marlins on.
Alas, it ended in another defeat, and the Tartan Army drifted out of loanDepot Park having now seen more Rangers wins at this World Cup than Scotland ones. Strange times.
There’s still time for that to change, and on this remarkable journey came a flicker of serendipity that felt like a good omen.
Stephen McGinn, brother of Scotland hero John, snagged a stray baseball as it ricocheted off a bat, pinged off a railing, and popped straight into his hands.
Another city. Another ballpark. Another Tartan Army love-in.
Scotland’s final Group C clash with Brazil on Wednesday may well decide whether this holiday romance gets another chapter.