Tilting in kilts

BETHLEHEM, Pa. - The 20th annual Celtic Classic is the place to watch lassies and colleens high-step, hear hundreds of bagpipes continually blow, relish fresh haggis, and observe big men in skirts flinging huge objects.

Make that very, very big men in skirts.

Men with biceps larger than the circumference of the ash caber they toss and calves the heft of the 22-pound Braemar stones they put.

The three-day Celtic Classic, which ended Sunday with record attendance of more than 240,000, has been the site of the U.S. National Highland Athletic Championships since 2005. The defending victor was Harrison Bailey III.

Bailey, 34, a shaved-pate competitor of nine years, is 6-foot-3 and 280 pounds, a former defensive end who played arena football for one season with the Connecticut Coyotes. He was the only one of 10 competitors from Pennsylvania, and spends most weekends during the summer competing at Scottish games.

By day, Bailey is vice principal at Parkland High School in Allentown. It comes as no surprise that Bailey, who can squat 750 pounds for five reps, is in charge of safety.

That he is African American - "the first and only African American on the pro circuit," he said - is another matter.

"I don't think we have any Scottish blood, though there may be some on his father's side," said his mother, Dolores, who had traveled from Lakewood, N.J., one of 14 family members cheering on the champion. They ranged in age from Bailey's sons, 6-month-old Torin and 3-year-old Harrison IV, to his 89-year-old grandmother, Alma Harris.

Highland games, an ancient predecessor of track and field, encompass a decathlon of events. Each professional must compete in all events. The Braemar stone resembles the shot put. The sheaf-toss involves hurling a 20-pound burlap bag by pitchfork over a bar raised by a cherry picker. The caber toss demands that competitors run with a dried tree trunk measuring 16 to 22 feet in height, 100 to 180 pounds in weight, then hurl it, hoping to tip the caber over at 12 o'clock. Instead of a discus, light and heavy hammers (16 and 22 pounds respectively) are tossed, the athlete aided by boots soled with a bed of nails to keep him grounded.

Understandably, it has gotten harder for the pros, whose travel is subsidized by event sponsors, to fly with their pitchforks and nailed boots.

Bailey has a solitary kilt, olive-and-blue plaid, which his wife, Kim, purchased for $200, a bargain considering there were $520 kilts for sale at the festival. Neither Bailey can identify the exact tartan, but it seems to work.

There are, to be sure, highland game admirers. Bailey is a very handsome man.

"Before we were married, there were plenty of women interested," said his wife (of German ancestry), who grew up in Lower Bucks and met Bailey at Lehigh during graduate school.

For most events, the pros wear sneakers. For all events, they sport bicycle shorts under their kilts.

"That's not fair," moaned Laura Hill of Bethlehem, placing $5 bets with her friends. "That's what we're here for."

"Harrison! C'mon Harrison!" the crowd cheered from the grandstands, though he had substantial competition from reigning Scottish Games Association World Heavyweight champion Ryan Vierra, the redheaded Barron brothers (Will and David), bruising Craig Smith, and hot-dogging Larry Brock, the only competitor to collect NASCAR-like endorsements, Power Bar flashes on his kilt hose, Irn-Bru fruit drink on his kilt.

The athletes are serious-minded in their pursuit, despite the relentless bleating of bagpipes.

"Personally, I hate them," says Bailey's wife, Kim, "but Harrison insisted on them at our wedding."

The weekend's weather was perfect, which was not true in Scotland, where he has competed three times at the Halkirk Highland Games. He has also traveled to Canada and Brazil, all his expenses covered.

Wet weather doesn't help, nor do the huge divots in the field. On Saturday, Mike Zolkiewicz, of Springfield, Mass., stumbled in a hole while holding the 18-foot-4-inch, 139-pound caber, which fell on his foot. Unlike other pro sports, there were no medics standing by.

Bailey had modest hopes for this year's games despite being the poster boy for the Classic, his picture plastered on the brochure of events.

"The organizers begged Harrison to compete," Kim Bailey said. In May, he tore his right biceps in competition. Despite having a practice area in his backyard, preparation has been limited.

Walking around the Celtic Classic between events, it was possible to see tots in kilts and cops in kilts, heavily made-up dancers in kilts, and many a punk in tats, piercings and skirt.

It turns out there's a very thin line between Celt and punk.

Festival savories included shepherd's pie, corned beef and cabbage, Irish beef stew in soda bread, meat pies, Irish tacos (the usual toppings on a bed of potatoes), and, naturally, good old haggis.

Frank Donovan, of Glenside, sported a Scotland cap and an jjIrish name, though he originally hails from Liverpool. Donovan brought 350 pounds of haggis, which was selling briskly, made with ground beef - "too hard to find mutton" - lamb hearts, lamb liver, oatmeal (yes, oatmeal), and seasonings, $6 a scoop or in puff pastry.

In the interest of investigative reporting, haggis was sampled.

It has nothing on paté.

Or even chopped liver.

In the end, after the challenge caber toss Sunday, Harrison Bailey III was no longer U.S. champion. The torn right biceps had done him in, though he had competed valiantly, besting his event record in the sheaf toss at 34 feet, 1 inch.

Larry Brock of Charlotte, N.C., was the new victor, followed by Sean Betz of Omaha, Neb., and Ryan Vierra of Stevinson, Calif.

The hometown favorite had come in a respectable fifth out of 10. Bailey had a scheduled MRI yesterday to see if surgery was necessary.

But before surgery, he has one last competition to complete, the St. Andrew's Society of Connecticut Scottish Festival this weekend in Goshen, Conn., finishing this year's circuit.