Day 14: Flea Markets and the Chattanooga Lookouts

And so began our great Flea Market tour of Tennessee. Yes, we had already hit just about every antique store, mall and barn in the Kodak-Gatlinburg-Wears Valley triangle. Now it was time to go old school.

As flea markets go, these were similar to the old Pevely Flea Market (R.I.P.). Some worse, some slightly better, but overalls with no shirts worn beneath seemed to be the norm for both the male and female sellers.

I found that not only is it strange what people sell, it’s the utter randomness of it all. You’ll see old Louis L'Amour novels next to a porcelain doll that sits on top of a first edition copy of Death of a Salesman right next to 10 pairs of new tube socks. You trip over a stack of carpet samples on your way over to the table of used tools, military paraphernalia, .22 caliber ammunition, special imported Chinese toothpaste and fresh watermelons. Just an odd assortment of both people and items.

I did pick up a few baseball-related items: a 1958 Stan Musial and autographed Steve Carlton and Roger Clemens cards and a “close-out,” authentic Tim Lincecum San Francisco Giants 2011 alternate jersey (for $20!), and, of course, more books. The jersey was neither stolen, nor fake, or so the story was told to me. The guy had a store in Atlanta and it was part of a purging of older merchandise. In fact, he was a huge New England Patriots fan, just like my friend, Tony, and most of the jerseys were of the Tom Brady, and friends, variety. Since the NFL switched from Reebok to Nike as their supplier this year, he decided to unload some merchandise since it’s not the latest and greatest. In fact, the Lincecum jersey was one of only two baseball jerseys left. TMI? Too bad, so sad. Tell your mom, tell your dad.

I picked up some bargaining phrases from my friend, The Mayor, while hitting the antique stores in North Carolina that worked wonders when negotiating prices. And just so you don’t think that this was all about me, Julia got some socks and books, so neither of us left empty-handed and, thus, it was only mostly about me. Hey, July is my pre-pre birthday month, so I’m entitled.

Shawn Spencer

One last Flea Market story and I’ll mercifully end this portion of the post… At one particular place off of I-75, I was patrolling the booths, which were disappointingly baseball-free, until I came upon a woman hanging jerseys of all kinds in her stall – baseball, football, basketball, hockey, even a few college jerseys. I asked the price and she said $30 each. Not quite the $20 deal I got in Sevierville, but not too shabby. Not too shabby, that is, until I began to notice some things, Shawn Spencer style.

First, I spied a Roberto Clemente Pittsburgh Pirates jersey and tried to contain my excitement. I pulled it down and saw the coveted Mitchell and Ness tag on the inside and on the front at the bottom. It had the year printed below it, as Mitchell and Ness does on their Cooperstown Collection. The year on this particular jersey was 1979, the year the Pirates won the World Series. Pretty sweet, huh? It would be except for one small glaring error, considering that Roberto Clemente died in a plane crash on December 31, 1972, a mere seven years prior!

Clue #1: Clemente never wore this jersey. It didn't exist until 1977.

This is the tag one might expect to find on a legit Clemente jersey.

Clue #2: This is the tag I observed. Hmmmm.

These, unfortunately, were not legitimate jerseys, but she did have a 1986 Darryl Strawberry New York Mets and a 2012 Gretzky Winter Classic jersey that caught my interest. At least the numbers and years were correct. Had she accepted my offer of the $20 price I got back in Sevierville, I may have committed a criminal action, but when I tried The Mayor’s negotiating tactic, I was shot down. Thus, I walked away from the alleged counterfeit materials. Her reason for rejecting my offer was that if she only took $40 for both, I was really getting one free. Sound logic Flea Market lady. Sound logic, indeed.

We continued our journey onward to Chattanooga and arrived at our hotel around 3:30 p.m. The double header was set to start at 5:15. We checked into the Courtyard where our window faced the Tennessee Aquarium, a mere 500-foot walk across the parking lot. AT&T Field, the home of the Chattanooga Lookouts, was only a two-minute trek. The only oddity in Chattanooga was the fact that the parking garage for the Courtyard was in no way connected to the hotel. I had to walk down three flights of stairs to get to the street and then walk around the block to get to the main entrance. Odd, says I. Other than that though, we were pleasantly surprised by the quaintness of Chattanooga.

We headed up to the first game of the double header (the Thursday night game was rained out, thus causing the need for this twin bill). It was about 1.7 million degrees and our seats were in the first row behind the plate – not conducive to a comfortable game-watching experience in Satan's hell fires. After the flamethrower that was Asheville, we were not about to microwave ourselves again. We did a quick looksee around the stadium and saw that the last few general admission rows we kinda sorta in the shade due to a bit of a roof. It was fine for a while until the sun decided to move in that westward and downward path it likes to take just enough to poke out beneath the overhang and begin melting my limbs from my core. It wasn’t pretty.

For Game 2, we moved down to our actual seats, which were much better in both view and comfort level. The fact that the rain clouds moved in overhead helped with that, and boy did they make all the difference. Not only did I cease melting, but I think my sweating went from Victoria Falls to a slight trickle.

Sky reminiscent of Return of the Living Dead. Look it up.

Post-game, we decided to partake of the sacred Mellow Mushroom pizza about which we had heard so much from the young North Carolinians. It was pretty tasty stuff and it was cool and dry in there (it had started to rain a bit toward the end of the game), so it made for a fitting and filling end to another long day.

Tomorrow…on to Nashvegas!

To see photos of the Day 14 experience, click HERE.