Yet Another Letter to Roger Goodell

Yes, I know it will not change things. Yes, I know I have a highly inflated view of my own importance. Yes, I know there is small change Goodell will even see, let alone read my letter. I am still mailing it in the morning and posting it anywhere I can find a link. Here we go


Roger Goodell,

I refuse to use your title because that would imply a modicum of respect. I do not respect you. Your mismanagement is evident in so many aspects of the National Football League. You have shown yourself to be a very poor leader. I do not understand this. The principles of management are simple. They are not significantly different in a war zone or on a Boy Scout backpacking trip. Leading in business is very similar to leading a children’s sports team. I have done all of these effectively and can tell you the basic tenets do not change.

To begin, you have to define clear standards, then enforce those standards. Your attempts to do either are laughable. Your players do not clearly understand the rules of the game you manage. Your attempts to clarify the rules only created more confusion. You did not prepare your referees to enforce the changes you demanded, so their application of your rules is, therefore, arbitrary, subjective and prejudicial.

If you want loyalty from your people, you must be loyal to them. The people who work for you must know that they are a priority. Rules have to be rules, regardless of your last name or position. When you show preferential treatment to your special favorites, you promote dissension and disrespect among the rest.

If you expect honorable behavior, you must act honorably. This is the area where you really disgust me. Dan Rooney supported you, both publicly and vocally. Even when you fined him for criticizing your officials, he publicly supported you. When Ben Roethlisberger was accused and Art Rooney II said the team would abide by your decision, you took it as carte blanche to impose any punishment you saw fit. Because the team did not protest your ham-handed application of justice, you saw an opportunity to launch a discipline campaign, using one of their players as an example. You took advantage of the Rooney family honor because you know they would not publicly contradict your poor decisions.

All I ask is an even enforcement of the rules. You would not act against Al Davis when Coach Cable was accused and charged with assault. You dealt a minor slap to Robert Kraft when Coach Belichick threatened the integrity of the game. You ignored the allegations against an icon when Brett Favre was accused of sexual harassment and transmitting pornography. You fine aggressive players for legal hits and ignore those acts you defined as “egregious” simply because the offender is on a protected team. This was clear in the Pittsburgh – Buffalo game, 28 November 2010, when you validated a bad call against Harrison with a fine but did nothing to the players who piled on and injured Roethlisberger when he was already down. So much for your intent to promote player safety.

I only support fining a player like James Harrison if every other player is subjected to the same rules, the same scrutiny and the same enforcement. You may not feel you owe him a refund but you certainly owe him and the Rooney family an apology.

As I said, the tenets of management are simple. All you need to apply them is a brain and a spine. I am waiting for you to exhibit either.

With no respect whatsoever,

Tony Devlin
Lifelong Steeler fan

I already sent in my dollar to pay James Harrison’s bogus fines. The enclosed dollar is from a fan who does not even like the Steelers. He is a Chiefs fan who feels you are unjustly targeting a great player.

Is Football Becoming a Sissy Sport?

This morning, I got to do one of my favorite things in the world. I have to warn you that it is very petty so don't think too badly of me. Let me set the stage: I drive to work through Baltimore. This used to be a lot more fun when I drove home through B-more, too. I leave the house at a completely uncivilized time and it is too dark to see all of the Steelers paraphernalia on my car. Driving home in daylight, I've had people flip me off for reasons other than my driving and a couple people have actually tried to force me off the road. So, yeah, I just love Balti-morons.

All this just makes my evil little pleasure all the more fun. I love to listen to Baltimore sports talk radio the day after the Ravens lose. I love the rationalization. If this had just happened; if that pass had not dropped; whatever. I am sure that fans of other teams can be whiny, too. There is even a very small possibility that one or two Steelers fans may whine about a loss. Nah! Such a world can't exist!

This morning, it was the refs fault that Matty Ice was able to drive the length of the field in less than a minute and find Roddy White in the end zone. Crappy calls allowed the Falcons to sustain the drive cause the refs ABSOLUTELY hate the Ravens. (Hmmm...questionable calls to sustain a drive, allowing marginal QB to find, say, TJ Houshmazilly in the end zone? Nope, couldn't be.) And, fortunately, the Ravens are on the side of the angels, as they have never benefitted from bad calls. Beating the Titans in the playoffs two years ago because the refs forgot to call that delay of game was simply an oversight, not a bad call. This went on for thirty minutes or so, till I got out of radio range, but cheered me up for the whole day.

I contend that, to be a champion, you have to beat the other team AND the refs. Those who remember the 2005 playoff game against the Colts know exactly what I am talking about. I was disgusted with how many blatant calls went against the Black and Gold. Sure, Peyton is a great quarterback who kept them in the game but he had significant help. I was convinced the script was already set and the Steelers were just upsetting the apple cart. We proved it again last week against the Bungles. Two horrendous calls in a row allowed Palmer to stay on the field and come within one reception of the upset.  Casey Hampton's bogus Roughing the Passer call and the horrible Pass Interference call on Ike were particularly egregious. (Check it out! I used egregious, the hot new word this season, in a sentence! Yay, me!) The NFL came back with a mea culpa today.

So, what is the title about, you ask? Is the NFL really becoming a league for sissies? Are we getting ready to chug on over to Mamby-Pamby Land ? (Great GEICO commercial, by the way!) Well, the fact that Bart Scott still has a job leads me to think it is true. I don't pay attention to that puss bag anymore. Is he still whining about the Hines Ward hit from 83 years ago? Get over it, you girl.

Now, we could talk about the completely bogus $75K fine to James Harrison or we could focus on the Troy Polamalu comments but that would be taking the easy way out. The fact that the Commish does not fine The Hairy One for so blatantly criticizing the league is testimony in itself. I would prefer to focus on the comment of Ravens stud (?) Haloti Ngata. When explaining why his team got their butts handed to them in Atlanta, Ngata said, "“I don’t know if it was that we just played Sunday, but I was tired.” Another player agree and Ed Reed, at least, had the decency to be emabarrassed by the comments but are you serious? You get paid 14 gajillion dollars to play football and you're too tired to do your job? Did you happen to notice that the team who made you look so bad ALSO PLAYED ON SUNDAY?!?!?!? Oh, my sweet Aunt Mary! What's next? No Gatorade showers cause it stings the eyes? Maybe we should have cupcake parties on the sidelines after a win. I'll bring the drink boxes and orange slices to pass out at half time.

Perils of Homerliness

I was going over some of the week's football news. I had some free time with the Steelers on their bye week and, let's face it, cutting grass is not all that intellectually stimulating. I reflected on what a bunch of homers we have in the world of sports. Then I started thinking: we should break down and fully define a homer. What can I say? I was bored.

Before I begin, I have to state that I am a proud homer. I believe the Steelers are the best team in football, the Penguins are the best team in hockey and the Pirates are a team in baseball. I will defend the Big Doof until he either makes the Hall of Fame or is charged with something. In the first case, he would no longer need me coming to his defense. In the latter case, I would be happy to introduce him to his new friends on D Block. Even with my homerism, I thought this was really funny:

We all know that a basic homer is someone who really, and I mean really loves his or her sports team. Think Penn State fans or, inexplicably, Browns fans. Homers love their teams for better or for worse. In the case of Browns fans, for worser or for worst. Penn State gets absolutely lambasted by a good team. The next week they beat up on East Mumford Typing Academy and everyone talks about how the boys have turned a corner. This is the year Joepa gets another national title...until the Nittany Lions get their butts kicked again.

We see a lot of homerliness in the team blogs, naturally, and in the local news. I guess this is normal though, like in everything else, Philadelphia breaks the mold. Their homers kvetch at every opportunity. This past weekend, the Eagles travelled across the country and played a decent game against the 49ers. They came away with an exciting win. Instead of being happy for the home team, Philly sports writer Bob Ford wrote one of the most depressing articles about a win I've ever read. Chill out, dude! Your team won with your back-up franchise quarterback, who took the place of your redemption project quarterback who will never start, who took the place of your new franchise quarterback who wasn't all that good to begin with, who took the place of your old franchise quarterback who just whooped your team last week. Hmm. Maybe Ford has a point.

The ones I really love are the national pundits who change an opinion faster than I can change channels. For guys like Phil Simms, whoever is winning is the best team in football (I told you they were great!) unitl the other team pulls ahead (you know, their defense has some pretty big holes!) Romo and the 'Boys manage not to suck for one week and beat the Texans. Woohoo! We always knew Romo was that elite quarterback Jerry Jones promised he would be! Next week, CLANG! Romo falls back to Earth. (Speaking of Jerry J., was it way too much plastic surgery that gave his face that freaky, Joan Rivers look? I'd be afraid to let him near a tailgate party grill for fear his cheeks would melt off.) The Titans and Falcons put together some very good games and the TV genuises talk about them like they are the best teams on the planet. Why is it they never mention that both teams are only very good when not playing teams called Steelers? It was a smidge gratifying not to have to hear all that Chris Johnson 2500 yard season crap anymore. And to think, all it took was a 34 yard day of running into a guy named Timmons. CJ can still make his goal but he has to run for 387.3 yards per game to it.

Sadly, I continually bounce from station to station during the pregame shows to tune out, rather than tune in. I am still trying to figure the need to fill the opinionated ass slot for each of these shows. Do we really need football versions of Bill O'Reilly on every network? I have to flip channels every time those two tools, Irvin and Sapp, start yabbering on NFL Network. Prior to the Tampa Bay game, both were talking about how easy it would be to beat the Steelers D. "Just push them off the ball." "You can move the ball on the Steelers." I thought these guys were loud mouthed jerks when they were playing. And someone thought giving them a national pulpit was a good thing? ESPN: Keyshawn. CBS: Shannon. (though he is very knowledgeable, he bugs the crap out of me!) Fox: Terry. (Yeah, I know it is sacrilege but, sometimes, the guy just won’t shut up!) NBC: Is Keith Oberman still on? What an arrogant ass he is. I stopped watching because of him. NFL Network had to one-up the competion by putting two mouths next to each other. Can we please go back to Woodson and Terrel Davis arguing while Rich Eisen played the straight man?

All right, enough whining, back to football! MiniVan Gundy posted a great bit in preparation for the Steelers/Browns game this weekend:

Colt McCoy Obituary

I fully expect the Steelers to win easily. In fact, I expect every Pittsburgh receiver to catch at least one touchdown and Rushhard to set seven or eight rushing records. I conservatively estimate that the Big Doof will throw for 1409 yards, give or take. I heard a rumor that the NFL was instituting a Mercy Rule for this game. By the end of the second quarter, Woodley will be replaced by the beer vendor. Ike gets pulled in favor of the Sno-Cone guy (who actually snags two interceptions.) Polamalu has to walk on his hands and the line has to play without shoelaces. And we have to play with one of their crappy quarterbacks. That should even it up.

If we lose this game, I am SO toast!

By the way, congrats to the Penguins for laying an absolute slobberknocker on the Broad Street Bullies! Sid is the Man!

Et tu, Ed?



                Verily, TMQ, I have angered the Football gods

So, tell me, what was my downfall? Was it the fact that I used a cheesy George McFly picture? Was it the fact that I brought it up at all? All I did was predict that the Steelers would be undefeated and win the Super Bowl. The football gods chortled to themselves at the end of the game. I can just see them. "Hey, Phil, that Devlin guy just called for an undefeated Steelers season! Ha!" "Oh, cool, Sid! Let's make them get beat. By Baltimore. In Pittsburgh. Last minute catch in the endzone by Houshmazillie! That'll really rub it in!" (Right. Even the football gods can't spell Housyourmama.) "Oh, wait, Phil, let's give that jagoff, Ray Lewis, an interception to end the game!" Hardy har har, football gods. You got me. Can you please back off now? Go mess with the Jets. What a bunch of cocky slugs they are!

And you want to know who really let me down? The offensive line? No. They just couldn't get us a DAMN FIRST DOWN!!! Jeff Reed? No. He might have made one of those two kicks if the offensive line could have gotten us a DAMN FIRST DOWN!!! Charlie Batch? No. He was fine. Except when he ran into Flozell, who was busy not getting us a DAMN FIRST DOWN!!! No, I am saving all my angst for Ed Hoculi. I thought Mr. Big Guns was the man. I thought he was for truth, justice and the Black and Gold. I am not saying that the game was poorly officiated or that the officiating cost us the game. Our inability to get a DAMN FIRST DOWN!!! cost us the game. But why, in the wide, wide world of sports, was Michael Oher allowed to false start on every play? Was Ed thinking, "Dude, you have to go against Harrison. He's going to hand you your butt unless I even things up" or maybe "I wonder if he can introduce me to Sandra Bullock." Whatever the case, the Blind Side extended to the refs where that guy was concerned. I would pay good money to see some poor schlub have to block Deebo without an assist.

                              Hmmm......a referee conspiracy?
               Or did I get a penalty for giving him the business?

One of the things that really bugged me the past couple weeks is how niceness seems to be busting out all over. The Big Doof and our man, Ray, are texting each other for support. How nice. Potsie and Ray Ray are actually buds. Wonderful. T-Ocho are holding hands and being such good friends and everything is fine in Cincy. We really respect the Ravens cause they are such a fine, fine football team. Oh, yack! Are you people serious? Are you so afraid of leaving bulletin board material that you have to make up crap about a city and a team we hate? With the recent trend of bringing back old Steelers, can we please bring back Joey Porter? Can we get one guy in the NFL to call a scumbag a scumbag? Say what you want about Joey. The man talked smack then backed it up. I have a lot of respect for the guy.

I guess it is left to the fans. There is no way on God's green earth that I will give in. Ask me if there is anything good about Baltimore and I will tell you that I like the Inner Harbor. You can see all the boats and the water and don't have to look at the city. I'm okay with that. What good can we say about Cleveland. Um. Um. Nope, sorry, drawing a blank. I used to love the t-shirt that said, "The only sign of intelligent life in Cleveland:" and it had a picture of a highway sign with "Pittsburgh - 60 miles." In Cincinnati, they are still waiting for Carson Palmer to arrive. Yep, this is his year! Oops, wait, no, it's THIS year. I mean, this is the year. How long will this go on?

Actually, there was a great story out of Baltimore a few days ago. Remember when the Steelers released Byron Leftwich to free a roster spot for the weekend, then signed him again on Monday? The Rat Birds tried to do the same thing with Trevor Price. After he got cut, he drove north and signed with the Jets. How pathetic does your team have to be when players are defecting to other teams? I can see it now: road games will be like Russian cultural exchanges. Some big woman in a babushka, sitting on the team bus to keep players from escaping. Maybe a Checkpoint Charlie on the Jersey Turnpike for player exchange. Where will it end?


                      "Please to be taking your seat, Todd.
                      You cannot go play for the Vikings."

Honestly, I have a hard time busting on Cleveland and Cincy. There are only so many insults you can heap before it becomes old hat. It's just too easy and I end up feeling like the guy who picks on the goofy kid with glasses. As much as I hate them, the Ravens are a decent team (who get really lucky, now and then, and beat us.) They have some self respect so it is a fair exchange. Steeler fans are left with the option of picking on the Browns and the Clowns or go outside the division. Our choices are to go old school and hate teams who used to be in our division, like the Titans; hate the teams who dissed the Towel, like the Titans; or hate teams who just tick us off, like the Titans. We can hate on teams who passed on Ben, like the Chargers and the Giants; or teams with crappy, overrated quarterbacks, like the Chargers and the Giants; or teams who just tick us off, like the Chargers and the Giants. We can hate on teams who jump ahead of us in the draft to take Revis, like the Jets; or teams filled with snotty, obnoxious ex-Ravens, like the Jets; or teams who just tick us off, like the Jets.

You might notice a pattern. There is a reason I don't play fantasy football. It is very hard to field a team that consists only of Steelers, former Steelers who still speak well of the Burgh and players from the few teams who haven't ticked me off. Yet. 

Put Me In, Coach. I'm Ready To Play!

Remember John Fogerty's song, Centerfield? It's a snappy celebration about the beginning of baseball season. You can't keep your feet still when the song is on, all full of promise and good things to come. Baseball is not something we typically celebrate in Pittsburgh. But football...ah, football! This is absolutely the best time of year, with changing leaves and fresh mown hay. Man, nothing smells better than football season. Well, except maybe apple pie. And fresh brats with grilled onions. Oh, hell, throw in a cold, yeasty beer or twelve and call it a tailgate party. We are talking heaven on earth, my friends. Only one thing makes it better and that would be cheering for the best football team on the planet.

Yes, it is true. I kind of like the Steelers. Everything about them is cool. Follow me, here. On any other team, playing your fourth string quarterback means you have to ask him to stop parking cars or selling sno-cones. In Pittsburgh, our fourth string turned out to be better than many first string QBs. Charlie Batch is an all-around great guy and we knew he could manage a game. I don't think many of us believed he could kick the crap out of another team, though, and be so humble about it, afterward.

I love the team first attitude. Take James Harrison's recent comments about how the defensive players would die for Coach LeBeau and Troy Polamalu's belief that he is more lucky than good. Fans of lesser teams (meaning all of them) call this false modesty but the Steelers sound sincere to me. Aren't they just like a normal family? You have the goofy brother, who always has the big smile, no matter how hard you hit him. Over there, you have the nine or ten guys who will stick up for you in a fight and that one really scary dude that no one wants to piss off. Here, you have the big doof of a little brother, who is always doing something stupid and you just want to staple that motorcycle helmet on his head and tell him to stay the hell out of college bars. You have a bunch of guys who could retire or second stringers who could start for another team but they stay for the family. This is the reason I am a Steelers fan.

Other teams make that kind of noise, but you believe it in Pittsburgh.  You will notice that our players all talk about taking it "one game at a time" and "concentrating on next week's opponent." That kind of humility works. For players. Fortunately, I am a fan and not subject to rules of humilty. In fact, being a fan gives me the right to be wildly enthusiastic. For Steeler fans, a bad season is one where we do not win the Super Bowl. Forget those 13 and 3 seasons, baby. Show me the Lombardi. This year, I am more wildly enthusiastic than normal, and that is saying something. I am already counting down our magic number. Usually, I am satisfied with eleven wins and a playoff berth. If that were the case, our magic number would be eight. Eight wins and/or Bungles/Rat Bird losses and we are in the post season.

This year, though, I am taking a tip from Coach Tomlin. I am cheering with intensity. Ladies and gentlemen, our magic number is 16. As freaky good as the defense is playing and with an offense that has something to prove, this is our undefeated season. Why not us? The Patriots tried to go undefeated but couldn't hang. The Colts looked like they were trying but wimped out in the end. That leaves it up to us. It is time for a real team to give it a shot. I'm going all "George McFly" this season:

"Undefeated season, you are my density."

Coach has the team all fired up so why can't this be our year? After the press conference where Tomlin melted down about the premature rumors of the Steeler's death, I read an interview with James Farrior. He said that Coach Tomlin was taking out his anger on the team so the team was taking it out on the rest of the league. That's the right attitude. Play on the grass where the blood stains don't show. The fans are doing their part, too, making Raymond James a home stadium for the day. That had to be one outrageous show, even with the humidity. To give you an idea of how bad it gets in Tampa, I was there a few weeks ago. On the flight home, the airline had the AC jacked up so high to combat the humidity, we walked through a cloud to get to our seats. See for yourself:

Tackling people in this kind of heat had to be a real pain. At first, during the Tampa game, I though the Steelers were making very poor tackles. It looked like the Bucs players were greased because our guys could not hold on. I saw a lot of ankle tackles and realized everyone must be sweating like pigs. Get those tight uniforms wet enough and they get awfully tough to grab. This was an impressive win.

I work in DC and have to be around fans of all kinds of crappy teams on a regular basis. Fortunately, there are plenty of Steelers fans to even things out. Needless to say, my talk of an undefeated season, three games in, does not play well. Redskins fans do not bother with me. They have their own troubles. Cowboys fans are still a few wins away from reverting to their normal, overbearing selves.  The fun ones are the few Ravens fans, who seem like otherwise normal people, despite their brain defects. They do not think the Steelers will survive the week, let alone the season. Ha, I say! They dream of their single moment in the sun, when they lucked into winning a Super Bowl. One even said we will need a quarterback to win another Super Bowl. Ummm...Trent Dilfer? Hello? I would take the Statue of Leftwich over Dilfer any old day! With Batch at the helm, I am not worried.

I do not expect the Steelers to lose in the next few years. If the unthinkable happens and the Ravens actually beat us, next Monday will be a smidge uncomfortable. Not that it will happen, though. In fact, I am planning to bring back the Playoff Beard around Week 10 or 11. Nothing can stop us now!

The Good, the Bad and the Pirates

Every year, some wizards at Beloit College put together a list of cultural changes in the lives of new college students. I'm sure you've seen the list. Kids going to college this year never made Jiffy Pop, used bar soap or got up to change the channel. But Beloit missed one key cultural change. The Class of 2014 was born in 1992. For them, the Pirates have always been a crappy team. For them, it is completely normal to hear someone call, "Wait till next year!" while still in Bradenton for spring training.

But not this year. NO way! We have our secret weapon. Okay, I know it's September. Yes, I know that the Buccos would have to win six games every day for the next month just to reach mediocre. I also know that the Pirates are 743 games under .500. I got all that. But there is.........hope! Our secret weapon has arrived:

Yep, the kid that saved Pittsburgh is back. Apparently, Sidney can swing more than one kind of stick. He showed up at Pirates batting practice and knocked a couple to the wall. Then he went to the yard, putting one cleanly out of PNC Park. Typical of the Pirates leadership, they brought Sid in too late to help the team. Next year, though, watch out! Right after the Pens win the Stanley Cup, Sid will slide over for a little Designated Batter action, then provide some hip check pass protection for the Steelers. We were going to win the Lombardi anyway but Sid on the team guarantees it.

This is one of the reasons I love Pittsburgh sports. Well, most sports, anyway. I am still holding out on the Bucs. The Pens are more than Sid Crosby. The rest of the team gets in on the fun. They all give back, too. This year, Penguin players continued the tradition of delivering season tickets to fans in the city. This has got to be one of the best things players can do. Sure, you have to get face licks from goofy poodles in Crosby jerseys but what a great way to show fans you appreciate them. Being a sports fan gets pretty pricey these days. It's nice to know the players see us as more than just a paycheck. Is that Sid's influence on the team or a smart marketing move? When Talbot, Flower or Crosby walks up your driveway and trades high fives with your kids, who really cares? Way to go, guys.

But, back to those college kids. They could also say that the Steelers have always been the best team in football. This has been true for much longer than 1992. I think it was back in 1823, when Art Rooney saved the Steeler's train from going over the cliff into Eastwood Ravine. Wait. Wrong story.

Except for that brief period they call the 80s, the Steelers have rocked for almost 40 years. If we had been able to snag Dan the Man when he came out of Pitt, the 80s might have been a high point, too. There are not a lot of places where NFL fans would consider a 9-7 season a failure. Detroit has parades when their team wins three games. Cleveland might not completely suck this year and win four or five games. Then again, it IS Cleveland. Maybe they will just suck again. I can't imagine being a Browns fan. It's almost as bad...as...being...a...Pirates...fan. Oh, crap, that was a downer.

Okay, Bucco fans, before you get suicidal, think of it this way: the Pirates could be the Dorian Gray of sports. They stay in the basement, getting worse every year, while the Steelers and the Penguins rack up trophy after trophy. The Burgh has three Superbowl appearances (thank you, Neil O'Donnell, for THAT pain!) and four Stanley Cup series since the Pirates demise. If the Condors were still around, they probably would have won a couple championships, too. Come to think of it, maybe the Bucs did go off that cliff into Eastwood Ravine. Hmmmm.......

Hall of Fame Induction, Part 2

Day Two of my Hall of Fame trip started off slow. I was so wired from the Enshrinement Ceremony that, when we got back to my cousin's house, there was no way I was going to bed. We recorded the ceremony so I watched most of the speeches again, with extensive commentary. When everyone else went to bed, I borrowed computer time to write about the event while it was still fresh.

We all slept in on Sunday and decided not to visit the Hall this year. I wish I had sucked it up and went over for an hour or two. The HOF is such a cool place. You never see everything in one trip and the staff is always updating things so a trip is always worthwhile. If nothing else, they have a great gift shop and you can pick up something for your favorite Steelers fan. They sell other team's stuff, too, though I don't know why. I will add a HOF visit back to the agenda for next year.

The next event is usually the highlight of the trip even though that Enshrinement ceremony would be pretty hard to top. Let me set the stage. Nearly 700,000 people visited Canton during the festivities. Canton really, and I mean really, goes all out for this event, hosting 18 different events over 11 days. This includes concerts, parades, a rib cook-off, a fashion show, fireworks and more. The Enshrinees Roundtable is held in the Canton Memorial Civic Center and is broken into three sections. If you have the general admission-type tickets, you have lunch in one of the meeting areas, then come into the big hall for the roundtable. My cousin and some very cool friends managed to score a table in the main hall. Now we have our own "season tickets" to the roundtable. We keep the same table every year. Ricky Jackson's family was supposed to sit at the table next to us but must have left early. Sitting next to an Enshrinee's family would be wild. Maybe next year!

In the main hall, you eat lunch with the Enshrinees and their presenters. We can take pictures of the stars but are not supposed to ask for autographs or harass them while they eat. That sounded like a good rule, so we just basked in the glow of our heroes. Each table has a commemorative Fotoball with the Enshrinees pictures that one person gets to keep. The people we share the table with won two years in a row. We were a little disappointed and teased them about collusion but I know that I used up all my luck when I scored those great tickets to the ceremony. Seriously, after lucking into seats right behind the Steelers, I'm not due to win for a few more years.

There are speeches and presentations but the reason we show up comes after the meal. All seven Enshrinees joined the Bills Hall of Fame receiver, James Lofton, for a free-for-all talk about football. Lofton asked each player questions about his career. Things started off quietly but, after a bit, they started interrupting each other and having fun. Lofton asked Jerry Rice about the great catch he made to win the 1989 Super Bowl. Rice explained that, if the Bengals were crazy enough to leave him in single coverage, the ball was coming to him to win the game. Rice must have forgotten that the Bengals Defensive Coordinator was sitting right next to him. Coach LeBeau broke down what really happened on that play, explaining that sometime players don't do what you tell them to do. Rice was actually in triple coverage but did not recognize it. He beat three guys who had zeroed in on him and came away as the hero. LeBeau said that was the only time, as a coach, that he wished he was still a player, saying, "If I'd have been on that field, I would have got that ball!" I really cannot do justice to LeBeau's description. Try to catch it on YouTube.

Emmitt Smith got the most cheers, as it was a Dallas crowd, and had some good stories but he was a little quiet. I thought LeBeau, Rice, John Randall and Floyd Little were the most entertaining. If you have not had the chance to hear Floyd Little talk, the man can speak. He has great stories, dating back to being recruited by the Elmira Express, Ernie Davis. Russ Grimm caused a real ruckus when he said that he hated Dallas. Lofton immediately tried to calm down the booing by saying that there was a fine line between love and hate in football. Russ didn't REALLY hate Dallas, right Russ? Grimm said the Cowboys had some of the most loyal fans (big cheer) and some really great players (bigger cheer) but, as a Redskin, even the word "Dallas" got him going. Randall came to Grimm's defense by talking about how much the Vikings hate Green Bay. I can see the point. If the Steelers had any decent teams in their division, I would probably hate them, too.

Just kidding! Rest assured, I can't stand Baltimore, Cincinnati or Cleveland. The talk went on for more than an hour and was as much fun as I expected. I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon than to listen to football greats telling war stories.

After the roundtable, we packed up and headed home. We don't stay for the game. My cousin tells me that watching the game at the HOF is like seeing a high school game. You are very close to the players. If they ever have two teams I even remotely like, I might stay around. The only way I would enjoy a Cowboys-Bengals game is if they beat each other senseless and both lose. I'd pay to see that game.

So now, needless to say, we start thinking about next year's Enshrinement. I am very hopeful for good things. The Bus is eligible for selection and Canton is already planning for the onslaught. If he goes in, I expect each of you to join me in Ohio. We're are thinking about going a few days early to really get into the party.

Now that you suffered through the blog, here is your prize. Enjoy some of the photos from the weekend. If you click a picture, you can view it full size.

Notice that even Joey Porter has a Terrible Towel. The man is cool!

Faneca has one, too!

Obviously, this isn't Ben, though he was there.

Even sitting down, Starks is taller than me.

I hope you enjoyed the piece. Come join us next year and write your own summary.

Hall of Fame Induction, Part 1

Oh. My. God!

I will get the pictures posted after I get back home but I had to write about tonight while the memories were still fresh. What an amazing night. It could have turned out to be very crappy, indeed. I was so excited to see Coach Dick LeBeau at the Hall of Fame parade this morning; I was so busy cheering and clapping, that my pictures of him were not very good. More about that later. Our tickets to the Enshrinement fell through. My cousin and I actually discussed blowing off the ceremony and watching the whole thing on ESPN. We were floating on our host cousin's boat, enjoying cold, refreshing beverages, deciding whether or not to stay at home. We agreed that we came too far and enjoyed last year's ceremony too much to miss out on this opportunity. A lot of things could have gone wrong but things started going right.

I talked before about how welcoming and wonderful the people of Canton, Ohio, are. Every single one of them gets into this whole Hall of Fame celebration. I have exceedingly cool relatives in Canton who host us and hang out with us every year, scoring tickets to big events and making sure we don't get too lost.

Things broke down this year. We did not have tickets and, to make matters worse, we thought the ceremony started an hour later than it actually did. We drove to the field and parked in some nice family's back yard. (Yes, we paid to park. These folks have the right to make a buck on the hysteria, too.) We walked to the field and started talking to the scalpers. These vultures wanted $50 for a $30 ticket and couldn't even give us two seats together. We decided to try the ticket counter but my cousin found the Will Call window and we went there first. The nice people at the window saw we were Steelers fans and said they had some great seats for us and a surprise we would really like. All for the normal price of $30.

We had to rush in because Coach Dad was about to start speaking. We hurried around to our section and hustled up the stairs to find our seats. It wasn't until we were sitting down, enjoying the speech when I looked a few rows ahead of us and saw Chris Kemoeatu. We kept looking around. There was James Harrison, Troy Polamalu, Ryan Clark. There was Ben Roethlisberger and Ike Taylor and Max Starks and Heath Miller. Alan Faneca and Joey Porter both made the trip, too. All of the Steelers had Terrible Towels and they waved them freely. I thought it was very classy that Joey Porter, now a Cardinal, waved a Towel with the rest of the team.

Many of the players had on their Detroit #44 LeBeau jerseys and Coach gave a great speech. This is truly an amazing man who deserves every single honor he has received. You can tell his players love him as much as Coach LeBeau loves them. He forgot to mention the linebackers and single out any of them. I am sure he got caught up in the excitement and missed part of his speech. I hope our great linebacking corps does not feel slighted; he certainly talks about their quality every other time he gets the chance.

After the speech, I went down a few rows with the rest of the Steeler fans in that section and got some snaps of the team. If any of them are decent, I will post them here. It was an absolute football fan dream. I got to spend an evening in the sun with the best football team in the world, honoring the best coach in the world. Ahh. Mission complete.

Many of the Steelers took off after that but some stayed around. When John Randall finished his speech, the hoopla started for Russ Grimm and a very cool thing happened. Most of the Steelers who stayed were offensive linemen. They all put away their Terrible Towels and put on Russ Grimm Redskins jerseys. I thought this was a very nice tribute to a great player and a great coach. I guess Faneca was not in on the coordination because he did not have a jersey to wear. But it was good to see him make the trip for an old coach. I always liked Faneca. He still does a lot for the city of Pittsburgh and remains one of my favorite linemen.

Coach Grimm's speech was another very good one. I will replay some of his comments for my sons, two of whom were linemen. The part about the how the best feeling for an offensive lineman was to move another man from point A to point B against his will was pure gold. I hope you all took time to listen to him talk.

The rest of the speeches were good, though Ricky Jackson must have had a few concussions too many. Emmitt Smith sure is a talented speaker, though all his talk of how great it was to be a Cowboy got me nauseous. He started laying it on so thick, I thought someone was going to lay out a patch of water for him to walk across. Dude, you were a fantastic running back and, apparently, a snazzy dancer but get over yourself! All that crap about how the "Triplets" and their incredible balance were what won the Super Bowl against the Steelers. Give me a break! Neil O'Donnell should have won the MVP for Dallas in that game. Seriously! I tried to call Neil to talk about this but he couldn't find his receiver. (That's right! The old jokes are still the best!)

Leaving the stadium, we had to walk up a big hill to get the the right gate. We hadn't taken two steps when a nice Browns fan (Yeah, who knew?) in a golf cart offered us a ride up the hill and would have driven us all the way to my car if we had let him. We had a nice talk about football, the Hall and his restaurant. We may go to North Canton tomorrow and check out Mr. Walther's restaurant. He said he would be open. Come on by!

Just a quick note about the parade. It was very well attended and very well run, like every year. There were more floats than last year and people did seem more into it. I get such a kick out of seeing the Hall of Fame greats like Lem Barney and Art Donovan, who come back every year. Seeing my childhood demi-god, Gayle Sayers, is a high point, each time. What bugged me last year and this year was the lack of Steeler greats in the parade. Franco and Swannie came this year but where were the rest? Dick Lebeau goes into the Hall as a Lion. But, let's be honest: This man is as significant a part of Steelers history as anyone since Our Father, Who Is Art In Heaven learned to play poker and win a football franchise. Rod Woodson didn't even show up for the parade. What was that about. I would like to see more of the alumni come to commune with the fans,

So Day One of fanboy heaven is done. We may hit the Hall in the morning but will play that by ear.  All in all, Canton, you have done your town proud. I can't wait for Day Two!

Football Season: T - 2 and Counting!

So, what is going on in the world of Pittsburgh sports? How about them Pirates? Bwaaa haaa haaa haaa! In case you haven't been keeping track, the Bucs lost so many games that they are last place in four different divisions. They are so far back, they would have to win every game for the rest of this season and next to make the playoffs.  Is this some Curse of the Bambino thing? We let Barry Bonds get away and have sucked ever since?

Enough with the torture. Let's talk about real sports.

Ahhhhh!  Can you smell it?  Football season is finally here!  In my humble opinion, the season starts with with the annual Haj to Canton.  Hanging out at the Hall of Fame, soaking up all that atmosphere, really gets me psyched for the season.  Apparently, the Steelers agree with me.  They plan to modify their practice schedule to come hang out with me at the Hall of Fame induction ceremony.  No, seriously! I'm saving a seat for Potsie, one for Deebo, two for Big Snack, one for B-Mac.  I expect the O-line will also come to honor Coach Grimm, but I can only save so many seats, guys. You'll have to find your own!

Also, with the start of the season, I can feel the playoff beard itching to break free.  Soon, beard, soon! Your time will come!  As soon as, and I mean the very second, the Steelers make the playoffs, the beard gets to come back!  By my professional calculation, that should be by the third quarter of game seven, halftime of game eight, at the latest.  Hey, it's the beginning of the season. I am supposed to be ridiculously overconfident! The team looks great this year.  With Smith and Polamalu healthy and Farrior doing that Dorian Gray thing, the D will be on fire. If the secondary gets motivated and Special Teams comes along my plan will have a lot better chance of succeeding. Plan, you say? What plan would that be? This year, the playoff beard will be special.  I will start it when the Steelers make the playoffs, keep it growing through our Super Bowl win, carry it through the Penguins playoffs and celebrate with Vince and Stanley in the same town again. Now that, my friends, is a dream worth dreaming!

And it all starts tomorrow with the drive to Canton. For an Ohio town, those folks really do it right. The population of the town more than doubles for a few days. From what I can tell, most of the locals welcome the madness. It seems that everyone knows how big of a deal this is so they pull out all the stops.  I will miss some of the festivities but will catch the rib burnoff, the parade, the ceremony and the luncheon.  I enjoyed the speeches last year but the luncheon was the absolute coolest part.  Being a few tables away while football royalty talks about their playing days is such a high.  If you watch the session on ESPN, I'll be the guy in the Woodson jersey, with the mile wide smile.  If I get to shake hands with Coach Dad, I'll be in heaven.  I know most of the 17.43 billion Steelers fans on hand will want autographs but not me.  I just want to shake his hand and thank him for fifty years of football, the zone blitz, the best defense in the game, and just being one hell of a great guy.  The ritual of reading "T'was the Night Before Christmas" is one of my favorite stories in football.  I'd kill to sneak into the room for that some year.  Okay, maybe not actually "kill" cause Coach would have to pipe the narration into my cell and that would not be cool.  How about if I just nudge someone really hard? Maybe that would work.

Okay.  I'll get some pictures up after the event for those sad souls forced to live vicariously through me. Wow. I can't imaging how boring your life must be that you have to look to me for entertainment. Here is a day in the life: sleep, drive, work, drive, sleep, drive, work, drive, sleep, drive, cookie break, sleep, etc. Seriously folks, run now! Save yourselves!

See y'all after the induction!

Football? Wherefore Art Thou, Football?

Oh, for the love of Mike, what do I have to do to get some football around here?  I've been patient; I've been good; can I PLEASE have some damn football?

Sorry.  I get this way every year in the last couple weeks before Training Camp opens.  You can tell that I am not the only one affected so.  The media gets more and more manic, as they try desperately to find any newsworthy nugget.  Case in point is today's gem from that tool, Mike Florio, at PFT.  You might want to have your kids avert their eyes for the next part.  Our Big Doof QB was playing golf in Ohio...and...peed...on...the...grass.  Oh my stars and garters!  A guy is playing golf on a forty bazillion acre expanse of land, hydrates properly with a number of favorite beverages and feels the call.  SOMEBODY CALL THE COPS!  BEN'S PEEING ON THE GRASS!  Crack investigative reporting there, Mikey!  (Just leave that crappy pun dangling, please!)  Seriously, check out the link.  This yutz, with his man-hate, has cycled way down but, if you think about it, there is real newsworthy piece of this story.  Ben is a Steeler, playing golf in Ohio, home of the Bungles and the Brownnosers, but all he does is pee on the ground?  What in the Wide, Wide World of Sports is going on here?  Is Ben going soft in the head?  (Oops, obvious question.)  Does this mean he will take it easy on the Ohio teams?  My Lord!  Call the reporters!

And Bus?  How the mighty have fallen.  Geez, friend, you're a Steeler.  Can you please go drop dimes on some other team for a while?  Bill hung around that lame duck year because you couldn't shut your yap.  Please stop giving us your "insights" on the Black and Gold!

Of course, there are good reporters, too, and good football stories.  I make it a point to stop by BTSC for my daily Steelers fix.  I also stop by Yahoo! for the lastest Jason Cole column.  I do not agree with Mr. Cole all the time, but the guy writes very well.  You can tell he loves the game as much as the rest of us.  I like that he continues to find fanboy kind of things to keep me interested in the offseason.  When he ranked 3-4 defensive lines and the Steelers were 6th, though, I cacked on my Raisin Bran.  Sure, you mention Smith and the Snack-meister but, dude, have you heard of Brett Keisel?  The guy is a beast! He got a little lost as the number one guy on the end last year but, with Aaron healthy, it should be a fun year for the Deisel.  In his defense, Cole more than made up for his temporary insanity by ranking the linebacking corps.

"With LaMarr Woodley and James Harrison, the Steelers have the best combination of accomplished pass rushers among 3-4 defenses in the NFL.  In fact, it’s not real close.  The only team that could close the gap anytime soon is Dallas if Anthony Spencer improves.  When you add in inside linebackers James Farrior and Lawrence Timmons (seven sacks last season), you have the best overall linebacking corps in the league by a pretty good margin.  Dallas is really good, but the Steelers are special."   Ahhhh.  Things are fine again in Steelerville.

I have to admit, I am getting a little manic, myself.  The start of Training Camp means it is almost time for the annual pilgrimage to football Mecca.

This year in Canton is going to absolutely rock.  Pittsburgh years in Canton are always pretty cool but this year is special.  Take a look at the Class of 2010:

Russ Grimm                 Pitt kid

Rickey Jackson            Pitt kid

Dick LeBeau               Coach Dad - How cool is that?

Floyd Little                 Ummm.....flew through Pittsburgh a few times

John Randle                Great player who deserves to get in

Jerry Rice                   The Roy Hobbs of receivers - the best there

                                   ever was and ever will be

Emmitt Smith              Pittsburgh traded away the pick that
                                  gave Emmitt to the Boys - you're welcome!

My big plan is to work my way into the volunteer committee so I can get a high five from Jerome when he makes the grade.  I swear I will be on my best behavior.  I promise not to bust on him for his foray into journalism.  And, even though Canton is in Ohio, no peeing on the grass! 

Great Moments in Dadliness - 19 Jun 2010

You might have learned everything you needed to know in kin- dergarten but I learned it all from my dad. Seriously, once you learn how to play fair, live with honor and never, ever back down, what else is there? Sure, fart jokes are important and every guy has to learn his way around a grill but you can pick those up along the way.

I wanted to take a break from the kinda, sorta sports talk you normally have to slog through for a Father's Day piece. You know what they say, "My blog, my rules." Okay, nobody actually says that, but they should! Besides, the Pirates are 826 games out of first place. It's not like you're missing any breaking baseball news. These guys reached rock bottom and keep digging.

I've been a lot of places and done some very cool things but the best job I ever had was being a dad. Just coming home to see my sons' faces light up as I got out of the car made my life complete. This, of course, was before they became teens and hated me. They got over it and, now, I get to be a Pap to my grandkids, an even cooler job. I didn't think you could get cooler than the coolest, but there you go. From those wild, full body hugs only a little kid can give to the weekly walks to the cornerstore with my first son for my newspaper and his piece of candy, this was a job I could really get into.

I learned how to be a dad from a guy who was pretty good at it himself. My dad was invincible. He knew everything and everybody. He told us of how he had regular conversations with Steelers and Pirates, TV stars and Pittsburgh bigwigs. This was heady stuff for a kid who already worshipped the guy. As I got older, my brothers, sister and I started to think my dad was actually full of crap. Nobody could be the hero of every single situation, not even him.

We were driving through some town in Ohio. I was probably around twelve. My sister, brother and I were working out the lines of demarcation in the back seat of the station wagon when my dad rolled down the window and called, "Hey, Bill! How are you doing?" We looked at each other and sniggered, like he was trying to impress us with some new BS story. The guy on the street turned around, looked and said, "Hey, Jack, good to see you!" Whoa. I mean, really. Whoa.

Whoa, again. How wild is it to have a dad who knows absolutely everyone? We were just passing through some random town and he was chatting with buds on the street! I was suitably impressed for years. It wasn't until much later, when real cynicism set in, that I started to wonder if Dad set it up. My dad could be pretty sneaky. I still wonder if he slipped a twenty to a friend and said, "I want to impress my kids. Drive over to this little town and be standing on the corner at 3:15. I'll drive by and call to you."

So I learned to be a dad from the best. I learned that you do whatever it takes to be the great dad. Decades later, driving through Ohio again, but this time with my middle son in the back seat. We just got back on the road after our 47th potty break. Traffic was a mess around Cincinatti, due to construction and we were crawling. I realized I did not close the back door securely but there was no shoulder through the construction zone, so I asked my son to open and close it for me. When he did, his prized, personalized license plate from California fell out. The hysterics were immediate but I still could not pull off the road or stop. I tried the dad thing and told him to grow up. Yeah, that worked. Next, I told him I would get him a new one when I took another trip to CA. Still no luck. I finally found a tiny highway alcove almost a mile up the road. You have not lived till you have to trek back a mile, through a highway construction zone, with a bawling little boy, trying to find a crappy blue piece of tin. We finally found the license plate and trudged back to the van, with the accompanying horns and cat calls. We got back and only lost an hour or so. I strapped my son back into his seat, happy now that he had his treasure. As I pulled back into traffic, he wanted to thank me for being such a great dad. To this day, I am sure of it. But, when he opened his mouth, he said, "Dad. I need to pee!"

Sadly, kids grow up. I always wanted to shellack them at six or seven and keep them that age. Wishing was in vain, though, because I just couldn't figure out how to make air holes for the process. Before you know it, they are grown and you have these huge, hairy things shambling around the house like your own personal mastodons. Once my youngest son, my baby boy, opened the fridge and took out a large Tupperware container with a complete family dinner. He got a fork and started eating out of the container, so I said, "Hey! Just take what you're going to eat!" He said, "Dad, I did." I think the rest of us ate macaroni the next night.

I was lost when Dad, Phase One, ended and our youngest went off to college. The grandkids initiated Phase Two and we are happily making up songs about bananas, telling gross booger jokes, filling the house with pink and purple for Tinkerbell festivals and reading stories with Grover voices. So I get all this AND a day in my honor? Well, doesn't that just rock!

I am sure this was not the yuckfest you came here to read. Deal with it. For Father's Day, I want to thank the man who made me what I am and the three young men who tolerated my attempts at dadhood. I really do want to thank them, I am sure of it, but I need to pee. Take that, Mike!

Hibernating, 12 June 2010

Congratulations to the Chicago Blackhawks for winning the Stanley Cup. To paraphrase one Pittsburgh fan, "Thanks for volunteering to take care of the Cup for us till next year." So again, congrats to the Hawks and especially to Marian Hossa.

Yep. Got that right. I am over the Hossa hate that gripped so many Burghers after he sold us out to join the Red Wings. A lot of us have not made the transition, hoping that he would lose forever, in everything he did. Some went so far as to (gasp!) cheer...for...the...Flyers. Even my cousin, who is normally very cool (she's from Pittsburgh; she can't help it) wanted the Flyers to win game six. Not me. I would even consider rooting for the Crapitals against Philly. Another very cool relative (somehow I managed to score all the cool relatives) wanted to congratulate all of the Blackhawks except Hossa. You're my hero, Sabman, but I have to disagree. When I became a temporary life-long Blackhawks fan, I knew that Hossa could raise Lord Stanley.

Really bad aside: in the buildup for the game when the Steelers played the Cardinals in the Greatest Superbowl Ever, the media interviewed one doof Cardinals fan who said he had been a lifelong Cardinals fan for five years. I've been using the line ever since.

I can hold a grudge for decades. There are people who ticked me off when I was eight that I still have not forgiven, so I get it. But Hossa? I can't hate the guy. What did he do that was so bad? He went to another team, in search of Lord Stanley. He made a bad choice and we had a lot of fun rubbing that in his face but the guy paid his dues. It's not like he jumped at the money like, oh...I don't know...Barry Bonds? Hossa took a cut in pay to get a shot at the Cup with a perennial contender. I have to respect that. Bonds went where the money was best and we forgave him. Sure, it took fifteen years, but the point is that we forgave him. Personally, I never understood the Barry hate and got over it after only ten years. Look at the circumstances: San Fran offers twice as much money as the Bucs, keys to the city and, apparently, keys to the pharmacueticals locker. Who in his right mind would turn down DOUBLING HIS SALARY for the love of the game? I guarantee that, if you doubled my salary, I could love the game a whole lot in my new city.

Hossa did not badmouth his former team. Taken in the correct context, he did kind of call the Penguins losers by saying he wanted a better chance at the Cup. We have to keep in mind that the man is from Czechoslovakia. Poor word choices in translation are to be expected. It's not like he hired a speech writer so cut the guy some slack. We can't forgive a player who openly talks bad about his former team after he leaves Pittsburgh. If Yancey Thigpen had a career after he left the Steelers, we would still be pissed about the comments he made. Instead, he went to the Titans and disappeared. That'll teach him not to criticize his oldteam! Even the great Terry Bradshaw had to apologize to the city before we would show him some love.

So the hockey season ends but the blog must go on. Baseball playoffs are only a couple months away. Bwaaahaaahaaa! I almost typed that with a straight face. The Pirates are fifteen games below .500 and it is only June! I wasn't even sure it was mathematically possible to lose more games than you played, then the Buccos come to town. OMG! (Sorry, had to put that in for the younger readers. For us older guys, it means Oh My God! Just doing my part to keep you current.) Anyway, it's close enough to the football season to start getting nuts about the Steelers. If it works right, I'll carry my football playoff beard right into the hockey finals. Another year with Lombardi and Stanley in the same city would be uber-sweet. (Umm, that means having both football and hockey championship trophies in the city would be one heck of a lot of fun. Try to keep up) Check back now and then to say hello.

Hibernating, 9 June 2010

This is the worst time of the sports year: the in between seasons time when your team is sitting at home, watching some crappy team play the Blackhawks for the Cup. Man, I hate that! The Steelers are still hanging out at OTAs (Offseason Time is Awful) and being pretty boring though, with our doofus quarterback, boring is okay. The Bucs are, well, the Bucs. The other day, they got beat by a 12 year old kid on the Nationals. I heard he struck out everyone on the Pirates, the snow cone guy, three Bud Light vendors, a parking lot attendant and seven of his own players. Sheesh! When will our baseball pain end? As for hockey, the big event in the Burgh is the Student Flush at the new Consol Center to test the toilets in the Pen's new home. Be sure to catch the highlights tomorrow on Sports Center. Sad as it sounds, you know they will cover it.

So, anyway, offseason is not fun. How do people talk smack in the days of no sport? Office chair races? "I can staple faster than you" races? Sadly, there is no firing range at the Pentagon so marksmanship (and dueling) are out. Arrrrrggggggghh! Hurry up, football!

My favorite tradition of championship sports, aside from the obvious one of Pittsburgh players hoisting whatever trophy, is the bet between the local politicians. The mayors and governors of the respective cities and states in the champoinship pony up whatever their big specialties if their teams lose. The losing politician has to deliver the delicious food to a soup kitchen in the winning city. The mark of a really cool politician (Come on! There has to be at least one!) is standing in line to help serve the food he or she just delivered. When the Steelers played the Seahawks a few years ago, we bet pierogies and Primanti's, while they put up foie gras and pooftyburgers or something like that.

I used to get a little angry about the custom. Our tax dollars were subsidizing a stupid public relations stunt. Then I realized that we subsidize things much more stupid than this: the weaponization of the frisbee; bailouts for arrogant jerks; performance art; critical junkets to Barbados; on and on. At least with sports, some less fortunate people get a decent meal.

This has to be the only good thing about the current Stanley Cup match up: pizza vs. cheesesteak. Man, I am salivating, just thinking about it. A hot cheesesteak would taste pretty good right now! Go, Blackhawks!

Hibernating, 25 May 2010

We were talking at work today about why I don't like the Flyers. Have you noticed that every one of my posts has some variation of the phrase, "We were talking at work today?" Just because I work for the government, please don't get the impression that ALL I do is sit around, talking about sports. Sometimes, we talk about other things. Just kidding! Ha ha! Please don't tell the Government Accountability Office. Crap. I am so busted.

Actually, I have to burst your bubble about government slothliness. We multitask and, while we are saving the world from mean, nasty, ugly people, we yabber about all kinds of cool stuff. The other day, we talked about different callibers of ammunition. See what I mean? Fun Central!

So, back to the story at hand. The question is: here I am, a Pennsyltucky boy, born and bred. I should be thrilled that a PA team is in the Cup Finals. But.....not so much. I don't really have anything against the individual players on the Flyers. I am sure they are marginally nice guys who just have the misfortune to play for a crappy city. Let's put aside all the many, many reasons I don't like Philly, even the fact that Philadelphia is not Pittsburgh. I just can't cheer for a team with orange uniforms. Come on, now. Orange? Are you serious? Orange is just fine if you live in Syracuse. (Right. Don't ask me why. They kind of get into all that Orangeman stuff.) Only the worst professional teams have orange uniforms. Case in point: Cincinnati Bengals. The tiger stripe could be cool but not on a perennial loser team like the Bungles.

Oooh, wait! How about the Cleveland Browns? It is just sad when you name your team after a color and then get the wrong color. What happened that day? The decorator had a hangover? "Oh, I swear, Mr. Modell! Those uniforms were just the brownest brown when I colored them!" (Cleveland fans can all take a momentary pause to spit and curse Art Modell. Never letting THAT one go, are we?)

A friend brought up that the Knicks wear orange and are horrible but that goes outside of my sports range. I stopped caring about about basketball when the Pittsburgh Condors bit the big one and we had to endure that ridiculous "The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh" movie. Who in the wide, wide world of sports picked my beloved town for a movie starring Gary Coleman? Sheesh!

In fact, the one saving grace of the Pirates is that they have not shifted to an orange uniform. That tells me that someday, somehow, in a universe far, far away, the Buccos might not suck so much. I hope.

And all this comes back to the Flyers. They're from Philadelphia. And they wear orange. Yick. Guess I'll be a Blackhawks fan for a few weeks.