Football at its finest is a cathartic emotional experience for those lucky enough to see it in person and no one is as lucky as my wife and I to own the two best seats to see the greatest sports team in the world, the Pittsburghs. Steelers. It was a pretty rude slap in the face last week to walk up to my prized Heinz Field seats and see, sitting directly behind me, three fully functional Packer Backers. They were presented, head to toe, in green and gold, complete with a head of rigueuer foam cheese. As the game progressed, it became clear that the cheese head was worn as a crown by the overbearing Packer fan who looked like Drew Carey and seemed to talk non-stop for the first 59 minutes and 59 seconds of the afternoon’s contest. .
The Men of Steel continued the recent custom of allowing touchdowns shortly after each score. Fortunately we held the lead for most of the game thanks to a brilliant passing performance from Ben Roeslisberger. By the third quarter it felt more like a Lakers game with the score changing on every possession. It really seemed like the last team to hold the possession arrow would win. With each score, the Cheese Master would grow stronger. Over time I deduced that he had brought his daughter in what was, in my opinion, a sleazy but effective attempt to protect himself from abuse.
The nadir of the game came midway through the fourth quarter when, with a slim lead, the stadium rocked to Styx’s “Renegade,” a defensive call to excellence with over 60,000 burghers yelling at globe-breaking decibels. ocular. This rally had served the Super Bowl run of recent years well, but instead of inspiring the D into an iron curtain stance, the Packers jammed the ball downfield for a short-range touchdown. As the Pack promptly returned the ball, the cheese carrier behind me yelled, “Maybe they should play Renegade again.” Only the fact that he had brought his daughter saved Mr. Cheese from tripping over the stadium railing.
Green Bay eventually took the lead with about a minute remaining in the game and the Steelers missed enough of the kickoff to get the ball back at their own 10-yard line. Ninety-yard drives with no time on the clock may have become the Big Ben and the Steelers. rose to fame last year but this year the trend has been the opposite. Somehow they managed to get the ball into the red zone with just a couple of seconds left, but there was barely time for one more play and Green Bay fans were living the reality of victory. As the clock ran out, the ball went flying out of bounds, surely past the outstretched fingers of rookie catcher Mike Wallace. I can’t imagine how many joints Mr. Wallace had to dislocate to get the necessary 6 inches off his 6-foot frame to make the impossible catch possible, but he made that catch to give the Steelers a season-saving win.
My wife hit me like cheap London roast as we rejoiced with a passion no 7-7 team record should deserve. Then I turned to see the Packer fans standing silent, numb and drooling as if they had won a free session of electroshock therapy. This is why I write a check for season tickets every year.