Steelers, We Choose You

The decision's made: We’re riding dirty with the Pittsburgh Steelers for the rest of the season.

You probably had a hunch that it would turn out this way, or maybe I’m just projecting my own hunch onto you. In any case, the decision wasn’t easy. I’m walking away from a lot of teams with a lot of great football yet to play.

Look at the Jets next four games, for instance:

@ Patriots (9-2)

Dolphins (6-5)

@ Steelers (8-3)

@ Bears (8-3)

You just peered into HELL, homie. You think every one of the Jets fans down at 51st State Tavern will survive that stretch? Once they finally lose on of these nail-biters, there’s going to be a riot. Who doesn’t want front seats to a bona fide riot? 

The Eagles. Michael Vick. Funny thing about Vick: he’s popular again. And I don’t mean just with black fans (but yeah –  us, for sure). Whenever I have occasion to take the temperature on his popularity, the people I talk to are, at worst, ambivalent about his success, and more often in awe of what he’s done this season and thirsty to see more. How did this happen?   The man killed dogs for entertainment.  Americans love dogs. I love dogs. And somehow the vast majority of us not only been won over by the reformed Michael Vick but accept that he may be on the verge of being the face of the NFL. 

There are several reasons this has happened.

The price Vick paid for his crimes – his freedom, his fortune, his career as he knew it – was dear enough for most.

     
 He's literally said and done everything right since his conviction – and  done so with sincerity that no one questions.

 He’s been the best player in the League this season. In fact, at age 30 he's significantly better than he was before the dog business. Maybe better isn't the word - he's evolved. Before prison, the prevailing question about Vick was can a QB with his skill set win be considered elite? Know what? Now we'll never know. His skill set has changed, expanded to include the full passing package -- short routes, bombs, play-action flicks. The threat of his running game sets up his passing, whereas it used  to be the other way around. Perhaps the best part is that neither his early critics nor his true blue fans can feel vindicated by whats happened here; he simply isn't the same player we used to prop up or knock down.

 All of which means that he’s become one of those rare talents in the NFL that you’re allowed to cheer for regardless of how you feel about his team. And given the opportunity to have my cake and eat it, too, I’m choosing to do just that. Hasta, Eagles fandom. Mr. Vick, you remain a weekly appointment.

The Bills. Bad team, incredibly gracious fans. Ultimately, the lack of postseason prospects did them in. 

The Ravens. McFadden’s in Foggy Bottom is a great venue to watch games, what with the crab cake sandwiches and its location right off the Metro. I don’t know what to say. Sometimes you catch feelings for a team, and sometimes you don’t. In this case, I didn't.

The Redskins. Eh. You know where I'm at on this. I've said my piece. I love McNabb,  but the reality of the moment is that he's a bad player being treated badly...and I don't know what to do with that. Well, yes I do: avert my gaze from the entire situation and check back in next year.

So why the Steelers?

For me, it starts with the personnel. 

Here, I'll introduce you: 

Strong Safety Troy Polamalu. He's having a down season by most measures. Still, there's only one way to describe his game, and his hair: buck wild.

Receiver Hines Ward. Veteran with an unapologetically dirty game. As much a contributor to the Steelers’ personality as any player.

Linebacker James Harrison. Another veteran with an unapologetically dirty game, except he may actually kill someone – or go broke trying. 

Ben Roethlisberger. AKA Big Ben. AKA White Mamba. AKA Ben Crotchlessberger. If anyone else has a nickname that makes light of sexual assault, the comment section’s open!

Before I make the last intro, indulge me in an aside: You know how we elected Obama, by all accounts a Gentle Scholar, and now want him to kick the Republicans’ asses up and down the street? Yeah, well. We ordered Gentle Scholar. It’s a fine dish; it just doesn’t satisfy our taste for ass-kicking. May I recommend another when the new menu rolls out? Can I? You ready for it? OK. Here it is:

NUBIAN WAR GOD!!!

HA. That's right. Coach Mike 'BLACK MANHOOD' Tomlin. When I write my non-fiction bestseller How to Enjoy a Long Tenure as an African-American Coach in the NFL Despite the Odds, the first chapter will be called the Mike Tomlin Blueprint: Win Games and Look Cold-Blooded. You see this guy? Does he look like he’s playing games? You think he'd consult the polls on a damn thing? EFF the Pew Research Center, Nubian War God's letting those tax cuts expire, and then taking a long slow whiskey piss all over your tea party. In all seriousness, Tomlin's solid. Hired as the Steelers head coach at age 35, he won the Super Bowl a year later in 2008. This season he watched as not one, not two, but three of his quarterbacks went down to injuries or suspension, and his team still ran roughshod over the AFC. Throw in Crotchlessberger's ongoing health issues and the Steelers' decimated offensive line, and it's fair to say that Tomlin's accomplished as much as any coach in the NFL this season. So yeah. Give him a look 2032, or whenever the fuck. If not him, one of the offspring he spawned while in the form of a bull.

So here we are. I’m a Steelers fan. My quarterback is an alleged rapist, my coach an evolutionary black president, and my haunt, the Tortoise & Hare bar in Crystal City, sports the motto Hop in, Crawl Out. Steelers Nation is wild. There’s no time for me to dip my toe in and test the waters, I’ve got to get wild with it, immediately. This Sunday night we play the Ravens, with whom we share the lead in the AFC North at 8-3.

It’s a crazy rivalry, from what I gather, made more interesting by the fact that it escapes national attention in most years. This isn’t a Battle of the League Darlings a la the Colts versus Patriots, and it doesn’t have the charm of Packers-Vikings or Bears-Packers (as a Midwesterner, I’ve always sensed that outsiders are drawn to the quaintness of Flyover State rivalries). 

Steelers-Ravens is a grind-it-out contest between two cities no one wants to live in, or visit, or drive through at night. It’s hard to even talk about Pittsburgh and Baltimore without a hint of eulogy. In fact, Steelers nation enjoys the league’s most expansive fan diaspora because Pittsburgh's fallen from grace; when steel production jobs dried up in the seventies and eighties, many of its residents sought greener pastures -- and to this day remain in your city, invading all your damn home games. To know the Steelers is to understand that Wounded Might is a dominant theme in its history. Which, when you think about it, should make them America's Team more than the Cowboys ever were.

That’s the bird’s-eye view of the team, with a dose of amateur sociology for good measure.  Understand that there’ll be no more of that from here on out. I’m in the thick of it now.  If next time you hear from me I’m not trying to get out from under a hangover, I didn’t do this coming Sunday Night right. I’ll get back to you around Tuesday December 7^th with the first recap of life within the Black and Gold.