And so, here we are again, for the seventh time, about to take the last step in a journey that brought us to the top of the toughest division, through the harshest schedule that the nay-sayers were convinced would leave us bruised, battered and at the bottom of our division, if not the entire conference. Our beloved Steelers have confounded everyone, clinched a playoff berth and won a bye-week leading up to the AFC Conference game against the Ravens. With that behind us, we enter Super Bowl XLIII as the heavy favorites, thank you very much. Mike Tomlin is not only the youngest NFL coach to lead a team to the Super Bowl, he is the third consecutive coach in the last 40 years to take the Steelers to the hallowed match. He has only been here for two years.
President Obama, Vice-President Biden, the NFL Commissioner and Keith Olbermann are just the latest in a long, long line of Pittsburgh Steelers supporters. There are hundreds of Steelers bars all around the nation, Steeler Nation, that is... I've been to a few of them. The one in Bismark, ND is my favorite- they serve a reasonable facsimile to the world-famous Primanti sandwich... these are the establishments that will play host to the 5-time World Champion Steelers' fan base this Sunday. With Terrible Towels at the ready in this country and across the globe- and in space since the Commander of the current Space Station crew is a Pittsburgh native and has taken the icon with him- we will be united in rabid support of our Steelers. HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO!!!!
Jet-Blue began offering round trip flights to Tampa, FL from Pittsburgh just for the big game- no other carrier has direct routes- with the pilots of the first trip donning Reed and Roethlisberger jerseys, the flight crew dressed in Black & Gold, the ticket counters decked out with banners, bunting and all sorts of other accoutrement to send the faithful on their way to XLIII. The plane itself was sent off with a line of towel waving maintenance workers. I'll admit, it brought a tear to my eye.
A 'Cage the Cardinals' rally in dahn-tahn Thursday afternoon brought thousands into the streets to yell and scream and shout: HERE WE GO STEELERS!!!
Here we go indeed. My grandma was a Steelers fan. Not just any Steelers fan, either: she would get out of her chair and scold the television for a bad call, missed pass, fumble (occasionally slipping into her native German for the real doozies)... or jump, arms in air, at a touchdown. She had a pink Steelers hat, with lights. That is the essence of a rabid fan. Not just the scolding and the cheering and the fancy hats, but watching and absorbing each game with intensity as though it didn't matter if the sun came up the next day (though it always has, even in the darkest of days), just as long as the chains moved after the quarterback sneak on 4th and 2.
My Uncle Michael was probably the best role-model for how to be a rabid Steelers fan. I'll never forget singing the Steelers Polka with him on many occasions. Thinking back, I don't remember him not wearing a bright yellow tee shirt with the Steelers logo emblazoned in the center or the iconic font proudly declaring his allegiance.
We went to a Steelers game with my Uncle Sam at Three Rivers Stadium, in late 1980, carrying with us the hopes of an emigrating steel-worker population (eventually becoming Steeler Nation), that we could manage a come-from-behind playoff berth. The season stood at 8-6 with a good chance that we could repeat what we had done for the last four of six years- win another Lombardi trophy (you know... for the thumb). It was close to Christmas, not bitterly cold, but cold enough to have a knitted Steelers scarf, knitted Steelers hat, complete with pom-pom on top and a blanket atop our laps. We were playing the Kansas City Chiefs. Where we sat I can not recall, but we were trailing in the 4th with a score of 16-7. In the last minutes of the game, snow began to fall and Rocky Blier ran one into the endzone to finish the game 16-21. The crowd went nuts (so loud I knew I was screaming, but could not hear myself), Uncle Sam scooped me up onto his shoulder and we just cheered and cheered and cheered. Uncle Michael, kept yelling, '...did you see him run that ball in, did you see it, DID YOU SEE IT?!?!'
We were sure to get into the playoffs now! Alas, it didn't happen that way... the next game finished our season and it would be 26 years before we would finally get that one for the thumb.
But I don't remember ever being disappointed at a Steelers loss. I always look back to that one afternoon, a four-year-old at a snowy Steelers game with my two favorite uncles, sharing in the excitement of it all and I remember that it's not just about winning a game (though it is nice), it's about dancing to the Steelers Polka and eating chipped ham barbecue and wearing old, yellow tee-shirts, waving a towel, tailgating in the parking lot- even during away games. It's about sending a text message after a winning playoff game: GO STILLERS!!! It's about crazy fight songs...
It's about being a part of something special, something memorable, something that you can actually sense in strangers walking down the streets of Pittsburgh... pride. Thank you, Uncle Mike... you turned me rabid all those years ago and I couldn't be happier.
I'll always be a resident of Steeler Country. Here, we bleed Black & Gold. We take no prisoners, we'll run that ball, move those chains, go for 2... we've been here before... we are proud... we are many... we are STEELER NATION!!! Hear. Us. Roar!!!
Now, as we stand on the precipice of a seventh Super Bowl appearance, at the doorway of history, I call upon Steeler Nation... get out that old, smelly tee shirt that hasn't been washed since the post-season began, call ahead to Giant Iggle for your 4 pounds of chipped ham, put on your pink, lighted hats, clench that towel in your fist, batten down the hatches and hoist the main sails, cause this ship is goin' to Tampa and it ain't comin' back without a six-pack!!!
Washington- President Barack Obama may be surrounded in red as he signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act today, but he'll be rooting for the black & gold on Sunday!
When it comes to Super Bowl XLIII, the Steelers have received the Presidential seal.
During an appearance at the White House this afternoon with Vice President Joe Biden, President Barack Obama was asked by a reporter, who he'd like to see win the Super Bowl.
The President said that while he likes the Arizona Cardinals, he will be rooting for the Steelers on Sunday night.
"You know, Kurt Warner is a great story -- and he's closer to my age than anybody else on the field," President Obama told reporters, "but I am a longtime Steelers fan."
Steelers Chairman Dan Rooney was an outspoken supporter of Obama. Several former Steelers including Franco Harris campaigned for Obama for the Democratic primary and general election.
Obama, who is from Chicago, says he's a die hard Bears fan, but next to the Bears, the Steelers are close to his heart.
"I wish the best to the Cardinals," President Obama added. "They've been long suffering. It's a great Cinderella story. But other than the Bears, the Steelers are probably the team that's closest to my heart."
Curse Of The Terrible Towel A Poem By Dave Crawley
There is power, they say, in the towels that wave. Like black and gold shrouds on the visitor's grave. It's a mojo opponents should never neglect. The Terrible Towel requires respect.
Then this! A deed unspeakably foul! The Tennessee Titans defiles the towel! Although their crass actions made Steeler fans wince, You'll notice that Titan team hasn't won since.
They lost to the Colts. Then the Ravens came in, A game Tennessee was expected to win. But the curse of the towel gave Tennessee shakes, As they sank in a series of stunning mistakes.
Our Black and Gold guys had a much different story. Santonio Holmes led the gallop to glory. Fast Willie scored, and the Steelers were winning. For the Chargers the torment was only beginning.
Third quarter. Alas, on the Bolts' only play, Foote gives them the boot, and he takes it away. The towels were twirling as Ben let it go, And the much maligned offense was starting to flow.
That towel brings sorcery into the fray. If you don't believe it, well, check out this play. To add to the Chargers' grim feelings of dread, A punt that careened off this poor fellow's head.
The message, of course, as we hooted with glee, From the Terrible Towel: Do not tread on me. A word to the Ravens. The moment draws nigh. This is the reason you're still flying high.
The Titans besmirched it, and now to our glee They will be watching this game on TV. As you enter the confines where Steeler fans howl: Beware of the curse of the Terrible Towel.
Truly, we are. By virtue of the fact that we have all, by now, witnessed the administration of the Oath of Office of Presidency of The United States of America, we are forever linked together with each other and with the significant historical event which unfolded at 12:05pm(ET) 20 January 2009.
Fifty, even one-hundred years from now, this will still be a major historical event.
There is a back-story before we get into Unlikely and Random Event (or URE) II of Saturday, 17 January 2009...
The computer was taking longer than normal to pull the latest RSS feeds into my aggregator the night before (this would be Friday night), so I decided to do without any sort of breaking news (though I did miss that there was video of the plane landing in the Hudson) and retire to the bedchamber. The top of my office window had been cracked to allow for smoke to escape, so I proceed to close it and noticed that not only was there a strange noise coming from outside, it appeared that our youngest cat, Manfred, was at the top of the back steps, stuck.
What's more, the strange noise seemed to be emanating from him. I quickly jumped into action, retrieving my flashlight and throwing on a pair of shoes, leaving my coat behind even though the temperature at that time was 7 below. After running full speed to the area where I thought Manfred was, I noticed that there was nothing but a snow heap that looked strangely like a cat, if one were to look at the heap from a particular direction and at a specific angle. In frustration, I demolished the snow heap with a kick and headed back inside via the side gate, just to make sure that our precious angel had not ventured out into the wilderness of the side yard. Upon regaining entry to the house through the front door and finally making my way to the bed room, I found Manfred quietly asleep at the foot of our bed.
Mystery solved. At least partially. What had made that awful noise? It really did sound like a cat in distress. Oh well, perhaps it was another cat in the neighborhood- we do have alot of those.
Unlikely and Random Event I
During the hitherto quiet Saturday morning, while anxiously viewing the video of the plane landing in the Hudson River on You Tube, I heard Marieke step outside, having called to the front door from the kitchen. Curious, I made my way down the steps to find that she was conversing on the porch with one of the two 'Corgi Ladies' that live on our street, with whom we are friendly, but not acquainted.
At first step out the front door, Marieke turned to me and asked what the name of Kara's first floor neighbor was- I didn't know. Linelle proceeded to re-tell the story she had obviously told Marieke before my arrival. Said neighbor's car, a teal Plymouth Sundance (previously marred by a brick through the windshield not 4 months prior), had been parked in front of their house for at least the past two hours while running. Concerned for the safety of the owner, Linelle had a police car dispatched to deal with the unusual situation.
The police informed her that the car was that of one of her neighbors, but could not provide exact identification. Linelle and her partner, Judy, then attempted to gain assistance from our end of the street, where she eventually came upon us. After failing to succinctly describe the confusing location of the owner's apartment within the mire of Kara's current multi-tenant domicile, I accompanied Linelle to the premises, two doors down, where we discovered the owner to be either not at home or not aware of our exertion to find him.
Finally and as a last resort- and by last, I mean that we had gone to all three of the doors associated with the apartment of the car owner- Linelle asked for the phone number of the landlord.
Oh lord.
His name is Yan. No manner of Pulitzer-prize winning author, or indeed, non-Pulitzer-prize winning author, in either the realms of fiction or non-fiction could possibly define this man by use of any known literary devise, creed or creativity. To describe him as simply a unique individual would be to describe the soon-to-be-former President of the United States (and in all likelihood, the current former President) in the same manner. They both are charming in person and on the surface there is a certain appeal and charm to the manner in which they express their personality. But the policies of these two leave a great many people, including neighbors, associates and those who have unwittingly given them authority, wondering if they are within the framework of any sort of pre-defined and existing law.
Any attempt at further description will heave this into voluminous explorations of sociology, psychology and other such subjects, of which I am ill-qualified to render.
At first contact between Yan and Linelle, the conversation seemed to be hindered by a thick accent on the other end of the phone and the fact that this end was grounded in logic. The second attempt didn't go very far either. By the third phone call, it was apparent that Yan took as much interest in the subject as he did with needed repairs to his properties.
The abrupt conclusion of the conversations led both Judy and Linelle to the unfortunate realization that the situation could not be helped by Yan. We parted ways with well-wishes and a promise to keep each other updated as the situation evolved.
At this time, I am not certain of the outcome... updates forthcoming. In and of itself, it could have just been a Random Event, normally not blog-worthy. The fact that it happened in the same day and within minutes of other Unlikely Events which also carry the distinction of Random, it is a part of this account.
Unlikely and Random Event II
Within minutes of stepping back into the house, I was prompted to fulfill the dogs request to visit the yard, since my absence and subsequent return was obviously an excuse to play in the snow. As I opened the screen door, I noticed an odd looking item that did not fit in with the other odd looking items of my placement in the mud room. It was a can top without its can. I questioned Marieke on its origins and was stunned by her answer.
She had come across the object laying in front of the door in the mud room on the floor, accompanied by the long lighter I use in the summer to start the grill. She then informed me that both the kitchen door to the mud room and the mud room door to the outside were unlocked as was the front door, when she first came down this morning to let the dogs out. Since there were numerous other odd looking items in the mud room, the origins of which she never questioned, as it was sort of my 'area', she didn't really give much thought to it; instead, simply relocated it to a spot where it would do no harm to anyone traversing the room.
Given our location of Greenfield, suspicious activity never came into mind. This was not the first time we had left one or more doors unlocked during the night due to our safety of being situated between two rather long and dangerously cumbersome sets of steps.
I, on the other hand, did not recognize this particular item, for it was so unusual, I would surely have made a mental note of its strange appearance before now.
For at least the past four or five years, Marieke has lovingly persuaded me to wake up by setting a steaming cup of coffee on my nightstand. She has informed me that I usually take this time to regale her in tales that either make no sense or are spoken in foreign tongues. I remember telling her of my exploits the night before that resulted in the kicking over of a snow heap that resembled Manfred, but she took this as just one of my many pre-wake-up, post-sleep deliriums she occasionally suffers through. She also stated that if true, she figured I was again sleep-walking (another of my afflictions she as patiently and understandingly suffered through during our relationship) and had placed the item, along with the long lighter in front of the door in a manner consistent with my unending effort to produce symmetrical lines of things during parasomnia.
I don't normally recall episodes of sleep walking and certainly not in that detailed a manner- and I seem to have trouble with screen doors when sleep walking (a fact which has kept me inside)- so I couldn't have been the night before.
After exchanging looks of puzzlement at the origins of the odd yet interesting item in question, my investigation began.
Of course, one begins such investigations with the philosophies of Sherlock Holmes close at hand: "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sleep walking was eliminated. Thus, the only logical explanation was that a strange person had entered the house, intent on plunging us into the quagmire of a mystery for reasons unknown, placed the interesting item on the floor in front of the door in the mud room in perfect relation to the long lighter. Without the usual pipe and magnifying glass, I ventured outdoors in search of the quagmire-inducing mystery person. Only one set of footprints were present at the side gate- mine from the night before. The back gate was undisturbed, as was the layer of snow covering the tire kept in front of the gate to keep the dogs from eating the people who walk past.
Marieke suggested that perhaps we had another case of hobos living nearby... the shed in the back, perhaps, since Autumn (who located the hobo guesting in the basement area of our old apartment) had been frequently going in there to sniff around. This was improbable because Oskar would have eaten him by now- and it was too cold to survive. But her suggestion got me thinking about the front door having been unlocked. I went on a frantic search for my wallet because that would be a logical end to these mystery-inducing means. The wallet was in my office. OK. What about the DVDs? Surely, whoever placed such an odd object was throwing us from the theft of our DVDs. They're all there. By the fates- what is going on here?!
The solution presented itself only after the events of the third URE.
Unlikely and Random Event III
For the past five consecutive summers, a blue-jay has been resident in the trees to the front of the side yard. Aside from their constant and irritating screaming every fifth second, they were of no concern to us. Until one of them dive-bombed me and left a gash in my head. Ever the stand-shoulder-to-shoulder-you-mess-with-my-family-you-mess-with-me kind of person Neil is, he scored an amazing shot to the blue-jay with his paint ball pistol about two days after the gash was inflicted.
We identified him later that summer by the yellow paint ball shell still lodged in his wing, when the bird flew into the porch for some retribution; all he managed to do was scream what sounded like a convincing approximation of my name- which duly freaked me out.
After Neil enlisted himself in the US Navy, I was forced to do battle with this bird on my own, though there were no further confrontations. I suspected the bird was 'sharpening his claws', as it were, for battle in the coming spring.
Having a suspicion that the perpetrator of UREII had used the small gap between our house and the one next-door to inflict his mystery on us, I went back outside to look for indications of his/her presence. It was then that the events of UREIII unfolded. On my way to look down the gap between the houses, I heard some rustling from the yard next-door. At first I didn't see what was there. I moved closer to the house to get a better view and to my utter amazement, I saw it.
Quietly, I called Marieke to the door and she saw it too. A Peregrine Falcon had the remains of a blue-jay pinned to the ground with its talons. The bird was near the top of the hill next door, too far away to obtain a better view. Marieke asked me where the camera was and brought it back, handing it to me.
The falcon must have been one of the ones living on the Cathedral of Learning. There are no other Peregrine Falcons within the city.
We watched as the majestic creature began de-feathering its prey.
Simply amazing.
And comforting. No blue-jay attacks to worry about this spring!
It was very cold that morning, so we watched for about another five minutes and would have liked to have stayed longer, but had to retreat back into the house.
Unlikely and Random Event II (conclusion)
Hoping I could get a better view of the carnage taking place mere feet from us, I went upstairs and looked out of my office window to find the event was obstructed by trees.
Satisfied that nature would take its course and the blue-jay would soon become nothing more than a splatter on someone's windshield, I was confronted with the as yet unsolved mystery of earlier that morning.
While Marieke was drying the dishes, we went over the facts that were present so far in our investigation.
We had a can lid without the can that nobody had placed in the position Marieke found it that morning.
Wait a minute.
We had all sorts of cans back there... for Christmas! They were the beverages and we kept them back there because we had no room for the giant ham AND the cans of pop.
Suppose one of those cans was still in the mud room and exploded from the record cold snap!!
Marieke's eyes went wide... that had to be the culprit.
Sure enough, I discovered a can of Diet Dr. Pepper filled with slush and without its lid! I took the lid, looking for a fit and found one. Even the source of the dents in the lid were apparent as I saw that the can was hidden under a plant pot and estimated the trajectory of the can lid upon explosion. It was a pretty good estimation- complete with sound effects and everything!
On the ceiling was a huge mound of stuck on frozen Diet Dr. Pepper. As we looked around the mud room we found several mounds of frozen Diet Dr. Pepper.
At least that mystery was solved. Now, what about the noises I heard that sounded like a cat in distress? Marieke came up with a brilliant solution: it was probably trapped gas in the can seeking escape through any minor opening it could find in the about-to-explode can. I probably missed the sound of the actual explosion in my efforts to save the mound-of-snow-that-looked-like-a-cat.
This may seem utterly random and completely unlikely, but in our house, it's just one of 365 other days on the calendar.
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30 January 2009
...Pittsburgh's goin' to the Super Bowl!!!
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