Three years ago, we went to Detroit to see the Steelers play Seattle. I wrote about it at length. Some of you were kind enough to read it. The joy of taking your football playing dad to a super bowl – Bettis returns to Detroit for his last game – gorgeous Ford Field – the snow and sleet….well, hey, it felt like Erie, we were right at home.

This year, all of us so-called steel experts looked at the team in August, checked the schedule, and pronounced 8-8 a success and 9-7 a good year. As the team wove through the Eagles, Colts, Ravens, Chargers, Patriots, Cowboys, Redskins, Titans and Jaguars, all we could say was “thank GOD we play the Bungles and the Browns, otherwise this might be a totally lost season.

So….it was thrilling and surprising to find ourselves hunting StubHub and Ebay and Southwest Air to find out whether a trip to Tampa would be possible. To find ourselves in the house on a beautiful warm evening, watching all of this unfold, it was completely different than what we expected on Labor Day. This was the year for Joe and Sam, joined by my brother Jeff, to go join Steeler nation in the hunt for number 6. We managed to convince my friend Tim to join us as well, a decision I’m certain he’ll review with approval for years to come.

So…..on to the observations.

The night before , we spent time in Ybor City “with the people.” A party atmosphere that looked to be a combination of Pittsburgh’s south side and New Orleans. A typical exchange - two dudes at an ATM: “How much do we need?” “$800”. We concluded they were about to buy tickets or an expensive chick.

Game day opened in the elevator where we met a woman on her way to the game in cowboy boots and a Cards shirt. She is a native of Arizona and has been a long time season ticket holder. We wished her well and told her she’s exactly the kind of fan that teams love. I wished her as well as I possibly could.

On to the Renaissance Vinoy, a beautiful hotel in St. Petersburg, where we convened for a huge brunch, intended to hold us until the evening. Entering the resort, Joe and Sam quickly spied the red Ferrari bearing plates SPRTS AGT, which began a fulsome conversation over why young kids just out of high school would be impressed with that and not see that their good labor was funding that dude’s fancy car and ostentatious lifestyle. Brunch was great, we toasted with juices, and acknowledged that the beautiful morning meal could well be the day’s high point.

Arriving at the stadium, we were aggressively accosted by the proselytizers and it is apparent the tone has changed. Not too long ago, one dude would be on a corner handing out cards and asking if you had been saved. Now they are everywhere, standing up on platforms, with bull horns. And their message has gone negative. Everything is about death and judgment. People around us, good people, were resentful, especially when they were ranting at us in the security line where we were trapped like cattle. One guy yelled out, “hey, if we have to listen to you, can’t you make it a little more positive?” For this occasion, we much preferred the dude dressed up as a Steeler Santa, wearing all black and gold, saying to the girls, “naughty or nice?”

I took great joy in telling anyone wearing a Pat Tillman Cards jersey, “I love that Tillman jersey.” And I got wonderful responses except from my sons who rolled their eyes incessantly throughout the weekend .. One old vet came over and put his arm around me – he started telling me about how people forget what you did just a few weeks or months after you get home serving your country. I told him, people who might not agree about the war, could agree about THAT, pointing to his jersey and what it stood for. It was a great moment, shaking his hand and thanking him for his service. The league did a 30 second tribute to Tillman at 5:00 PM, when of course we were in line for food. The rest of the day they jammed screaming repetitive highlight packages at us – we watched Ed Reed score the same touchdown two dozen times. They have all this good content and lots of players to talk to, and this is what they give us. I guess they spent all their money on Bruce (who was of course, sensational). Still, would it be asking too much for someone from the Tillman family to toss the coin? Of course, having read an article or two, perhaps his widow would have slugged General Petraeus right there on the 50 yard line.

The field was beautiful. They were cutting it so short it seemed like it was almost a putting green. And for some reason, it didn’t stain pants. These big huge guys driving knees and hips into the turf and not a single grass stain – only on the jerseys.

Long before game time, out from the tunnel, dressed in sweats, comes Hines Ward to jog and get the feel of a large brace on his knee. He tested it out, made some soft cuts, and everyone was buzzing about whether he would play.

The pre-game discussion inevitably turned to Casey Hampton’s butt. It seemingly always does. It’s like when you see the grand canyon – everyone stares - in awe of the thing. Lots of guys have bellies. Few have this ass. He actually runs pretty fast for a regular person, let alone a guy who was placed on the “physically unable to perform” list in training camp this year because of his enormity.

Spotted Joe Namath walking along the sideline in a suit and shades. Still wearing the hair long. Now I’m biased because in 1969 I was wearing his jersey and getting my ass kicked by all the kids who hated him, but you gotta know this – to this day the guy remains cool like a Beatle. At the end of the game, he walked off the field with not one, but two gorgeous chicks (another 60’s term). One in high boots. We cheered loudly at this.

The next order of business was to get the binoculars trained on Ben in the pre-game. In 06 he looked completely freaked out and when Randle El threw the game winning pass to Hines Ward, we knew that play was called in part because Ben couldn’t do it. This year, completely different. As the team stretched, Ben made the rounds, touching each one, hugging a few, and it was clear his manner was much more relaxed than what we saw in Detroit. In the second half of the season, he has been amazing – just throwing bullets all over the field and doing it when they need it most. He’s got a totally different kind of cool than Namath (won’t see him in a white mink) but it is nonetheless cool. It really is his team now and he was as relaxed as Warner, who at 37 looked great, runs slow, throws accurately, thinks quickly, and clearly has another year or two left in his body, especially if he gets even decent protection.

Our row was anchored by a really wild dude, wearing a court jester cap, face painted, yelling gibberish the whole game. Jeff was sitting next to two Steeler chicks and their mom. Mom was mean and foul mouthed, just like we like ‘em. Mom bought the tickets and so they had to sit with her and the jester, who would come past us heading to the bathroom yelling things like “Stub Hub!”.

Early in the game, I spotted Franco Harris sitting about ten rows behind us. We all waved up to him and he gave us two thumbs up. My kids have had terrible luck getting autographs from famous people – and they have made plenty of efforts on their own. I don’t know why a kid wants an autograph to begin with, but they do. So we borrowed a pen and gave Sam the game program, opened to the page with Franco’s picture on it, and sent him out on a mission. The result: “Sorry kid, I’m not allowed to sign autographs.” I don’t know how hard it was for Franco to say those words, but Sam just sat down next to me, pretending it was no big deal, for about a minute – until I saw big tears rolling down onto his sweatshirt. If the NFLPA or the HoF have rules against having Hall of Famers sign, it’s a stupid rule. The memorabilia industry has killed it for the little kid who just wants a small gesture.

Looked everywhere for Bradshaw but didn’t see him………..AGAIN. You do have to be mentally ill or clinically depressed to have won four super bowls and not be able to come to any subsequent game to feel the love. And we do love Bradshaw, for all of his shortcomings he was our greatest quarterback. One day he’s going to write or say how much he regrets not coming back and waving the towel – what a retard – take the pills and come have a good time will ya?

A moment of Karma. Ben does not get into the end zone on the opening drive. We all think it is a touchdown, and when it is reversed, the old bugaboo about the referees returns. There is an old conspiracy theory about the refs being biased against the Steelers over many years, all of which was forgiven in XL when several key calls went our way. We felt we got some calls back that were due us on that day, and today, that Karma came back to us. We thought about those four points lost on the first drive the entire game…..believe me.

So there we were, 18 seconds from half the whole crowd pissing about how it’s just awful to cuff this team around so much for the entire half, only to go in tied or down four, largely because of a lucky deflected pass. I had the binoculars down on the other end of the field, and nobody in our area could see it but me, I shot my hand into the air, glasses held high, and shouted, “Intercepted!” A huge scream went up in our section as the wave of noise at the other end started rolling in our direction. I know how long you think it took for Harrison to run 100 yards, but that’s because you watched it on TV. Were you there, you would understand fully – it did not take 18 seconds – it took several minutes for that episode to end with him tumbling, head over tin cups, into our end zone down in front of us. Trust me, the seconds ticking down on your TV were fictional. In the stadium, for both Cards and Steeler fans, reality was wayyyy longer than that.

Rarely has there ever been a celebration in a super bowl, because it ended the half and continued right into Bruce’s segment. The buzz just continued with nobody believing the score……right into a rousing “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out.” The party was on…….

As we approached the fourth quarter, with the score 20-7, we all wanted just one more point. Watching them run about 26 plays inside the five yard line without being able to score a touchdown, right below us, which would have iced the game at 24-7……….just turned our stomachs. Everyone commented on what a potent offense they have – and it could bust out at any moment.

After Fitzgerald’s first TD, the unease turned sour – Ben sacked and after an exchange of punts….we’re at 20-14 on our own one foot line, a place the Steelers have been awful from all year. In our end, the next sequence was disorienting. Right below us, Ben steps back and zips one out to the 20 yard line that is caught by Holmes for a first down. Game now nearly over. The ball was 2/3 of the way to Holmes before he ever turned. Have a friend toss you a tennis ball while your back is turned, calling out to you while it is in the air. You turn and try to catch it. Now tell him to whip it at you and see how you do. Well, anyway, we’re celebrating over there like knuckleheads while the referees are throwing a yellow flag into our yellow end zone. Nobody saw it. All of a sudden it is 20-16 and our crack punter Mitch Berger has to kick it away.

The mood is dark. I said, ‘boys, we could see overtime in the Super Bowl.’

Watching University of Pittsburgh football, we have long known how good Fitzgerald is. He is basically a basketball player in pads. The timing of an excellent rebounder – getting the ball at its peak. Until the fourth quarter, we watched them throw the ball everywhere but his direction. In the fourth, he hit us like a sudden gust. Most of the time he was covered – it didn’t matter. For the great ones – it never does.

I love primary colors. So many of these teams have various shades of teal, and marmalade, and silver, and such. The Cards’ uniforms have always been one of my favorites – just the right shade of red. And so when Fitz picked that pass clean, slipped Taylor’s ankle tackle, and shot down the middle like a flaming red arrow, it was like watching a burning building at night: It’s a friggin’ disaster, but it truly is a thing of beauty.

When Harrison rumbled down the sideline, Steeler fans were screaming, but it was the scream of a group that expected to win. The sound that went through the stadium as he broke into the clear was unique. We heard the sound of an underdog, having held the fort against a superior opponent, counterstriking with deadly force. It was a scream of joy that I believe Steeler fans have not uttered since Super Bowl IX, a time when the team had never won anything. It was thrilling to see their team celebrate in that unforgettable way and had they won, we would have been crushed – but truly happy that it was them and not one of the NFC’s douche bag teams such as (you fill in the blank here).

Fitz drove a stake right through our hearts and the proof was the Steeler fan reaction. All the swears and complaints were silenced. We were all witnesses to the greatest fourth quarter comeback in super bowl history unfolding before our eyes and if that team won, they deserved it. They scored on the best defense – they held their poise after the Harrison disaster. And they did it with a long pass play – I can’t remember any team completing a clean pass like that on us the entire season. So hats off to Warner, hats off to his line, and hats off to Fitz, who found a way to make it happen.

Sam and Joe have rarely had such grim looks on their faces in a sports event and I don’t know when they will again. They responded slightly more than a dead person when I said, “hey, there’s more than two minutes left and Ben has been very good in these situations all year.” As the Steelers moved steadily down the field, I began to flash back to XL, when Ben floated one out into the flat, short, weak, low, where it could be picked off and run back. (I have also, unsuccessfully, tried to block out the other one to Rodney Harrison his rookie year that led to him walking into our end zone in Pittsburgh). I imagined Ben doing it again here, a continuing nightmare that would cause casual fans to say that he really wasn’t up to the big game, when in fact he’s been up to every big game but one thus far. (People forget quickly how well he played in the three road playoff games leading up to XL).

So when it was first and 20 at your own 12 yard line – and your quarterback is in the grasp of a dude at his own goal line, running around trying to make something happen, it’s just looking really….really bad. By the time they went down to the Cardinals’ five yard line, the ability to inhale had almost completely ceased. During a pause in the action, I turned to an older guy, held my heart, looked up, and yelled, “Elizabeth, I’m coming home to you!” We all laughed, but barely. And recalling the nightmare of him chasing a guy down our sidelines, and the nightmare that was Neil O’Donnell, all we said was – “he better not leave a sideline pass short right now.”

A field goal meant a coin flip would likely decide the title.

When the last pass went down into that corner to Holmes, all we could see was his two hands sticking up, awash in red. The ref was blocked to us and we reacted to the screams down in that corner. Of course the zebras had to review it forever, and when it was finally decided, a gigantic vertical mosh pit broke out in our stands. Ben was transformed. Santonio (who was informed earlier this year that he’s down to his last mistake after a pot bust) was redeemed. The hugging and high fiving and screaming went on and on.

Mr. Rooney took the trophy, held it for less than a second, and handed it off to someone else. He is incapable of making himself the center of attention.

Outside the stadium, it was exhaustion. Nobody had much energy for anything but the walk to the cars. Remarkably little noise to drone out the proselytizers.

The Steeler season can be encapsuled in the following sequence at the end of the Dallas game. Cowgirls have the ball on their own 20 with two minutes to go. They run one play and the Steelers call time out. Romo looks at Woodley and says, “did you just call time out?” Woodley says, “somebody has to.” Romo says, “Are you kidding me?” implying that this is arrogance to presume that the Steelers can stop the Cowboys from getting in position for the winning field goal. Woodley looks back and says, “hey, we intend to score the ball.” Two plays later Townsend intercepts and runs it in. That sequence not only ended the Cowboys’ season, it signaled to the offense that there was an arrogance on defense that would keep the team in every game. The Ravens game ended with Troy’s interception. Two good offenses played in the Super Bowl – in the end, the teams were separated by a defensive touchdown.
In closing, one lesson for kids can be drawn largely from Ben’s example. Watching him on the field after, and then seeing some interviews, it is clear what a remarkable person he is. He was denied the MVP. He takes a lot of criticism, especially from folks who see the team only a few times every year. In fact, he knows himself better than most athletes. He’s not changing his game to look like any other player. He doesn’t even push back on his critics – I’ve heard him agree that he holds on to the ball too long. If Ben cared a whit about any of this, it never showed. He’s a good example for all those kids playing team sports – just do what it takes to win and don’t worry about what anyone else does, what anyone else gets, what anyone else says.

It is a good example for all of us – from a kid.