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!