My Unexepected Steeler Weekend

Before I share my weekend activities with all of you�.what say all of you to according �Grizzled Vet� status to SteelDan.� His story of sitting in the Dawg Pound with all of the Shit Stains is a classic, and is quite an accomplishment.�

Last Thursday night, I received word that my mother was in Braddock Hospital.� In addition to wishing she was in just about any other hospital in the region instead of this one, I remembered that E-savers through USAirways were being offered to Pittsburgh last weekend out of Portland, Maine.� I talked this over with my wife on Friday morning, who encouraged me to make the 2 hr. drive to Portland, board the flight and visit Mom.� After I got to work, I e-mailed my brother Tony, and said that I assumed that my nephew, who generally uses Tony�s two Stiller tickets, had already committed the other ticket to one of his buddies.� Well�.my nephew apparently has no friends, �cause 10 minutes later I received word that I had a ticket if I came to the Burgh.� I booked the flight.

My plan was to stay at my Mom�s place with her, as she thought she would be out of� the hospital by Saturday.� Tony though, called on Saturday morning to let me know that Mom was staying a few more days.� My wife says, �Maybe you should think about not going to the game, and spending Sunday in the hospital with your Mom.�� I try not to look directly at her, lest I convey my �Are you F�..in� crazy,� look, and merely say, �No dear, I don�t think that I�ll do that.�� My daughter�s new friend Amy, says, � You need to have fun, too.�� I say, �Thank you, Amy; you can come to visit any time.�

Around noon Saturday, I head off to Portland for the flight to Pittsbugh.� There�s a problem with my ticket at check-in�.two guys at the counter, one of whom is wearing a Steeler sweatshirt, are having the same problem.� We get our problems resolved, then head off to the Shipyard Pub, which features local Portland beers.� It turns out that Dave, the guy with the sweatshirt, is a Maine native, but a lifelong Steeler fan, having grown up during the �70s, and he�ll �be damned if he was going to root for the shitty Patriots as a kid.�� His lifelong Buddy, Tom, is a Cowboys fan.� Tom & Dave have been fighting about their respective teams since boyhood.� Dave is on the season-ticket wait list, and invited Tom to the Cinci game.� Dave is paying for Tom�s ticket, his flight, and the hotel�.as well as my two very large beers.

After Saturday night in Braddock Hospital, listening to my mother�s hacking, farting roommate, I enjoy a great Vincent�s Pizza with Canadian bacon, don�t sleep much, and head off to Heinz Field around 10am with my nephew, Dave.� It�s really cool going to the games with Dave.� Tony doesn�t really enjoy going, so since the mid-90s when Dave was 11, the deal has been that if I show up�.I�m in the House with Dave.� It�s kind of funny, though.� I remember buying Dave hot chocolate during the Buffalo playoff game in �95, as his teeth were chattering.� Now, I�m buying him beers.

We meet up with Dave & Tom, my newfound Steeler buds.� Tom, the Cowboys fan, is nevertheless decked out in a Kendrell Bell #97 jersey (hope Tom�s groin is in better shape) with a �Terrible Towel, and a Red Sox cap.� Dave is wearing a Ben #7 jersey, which he bought the night before.

I was damn worried about this game, but all�s well that end�s well.� Three of four Stiller touchdowns are scored down our end (we�re in Section 516), we soak in the sun, have a few beers, scream ourselves hoarse.�

About the screaming, though.� Dave�s adopted my practice of screaming from the time the opposing O leaves the huddle until they snap the ball.� We don�t actually say anything, just �AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH� as load as we can scream.� We�re making our contribution to our team, trying to disrupt the snap count.� I�m sad to say, though, that this time, probably �cause I�m damn near 50, the constant screaming is making me light headed, and compromises my ability to watch intently.� What the hell do I do!!� Contribute to my team to the best of my ability�or enjoy the game???� I play it 50-50�.Dave more than makes up for my being a slacker.

Back to the Airport, I catch up with Dave & Tom at TGI Friday�s.� Dave bought himself a Polamalu #43 jersey at the stadium.� He also bought all kinds of other shit.� Tom says, �He bought me a terrible towel.� What am I going to do with a terrible towel.�� Tom also reports that after wearing a Steeler jersey, and waving the towel, that Dave rats him out as a Cowboys fan in the 4^th quarter.� Tom takes good-natured abuse from Steeler fans, good-natured slaps to the head, good-natured stealing of his cap, good-natured taunts of �Cowboy asshole.�

Dave shares some similarities with me, though he raises the bar a bit.� Dave, like me, hates the New England Patriots.� Dave though, says that he hates the Patriots so much, that he hates the Red Sox, too.� �Cause they have the same fans�..�� That�s more hatred than I can muster.� I like the Sox�..not like the Buccos will ever pose any threat to them.

On the way back to Portland, I sit next to a kid who attends Bates College in Maine�had been visiting his girlfriend at Northwestern.� This kid is majoring in RHETORIC.� I ask him if that�s like majoring in a BULLSHIT.� Y�know�.that�s a bunch of rhetoric�.same meaning as�.that�s a bunch of bullshit�..right?� He laughs, has know idea what the hell he�s going to do with a degree in Rhetoric, but his goal is to go to the World Cup in Germany in the summer of �06.� He graduates in the Spring of �05, and he intends to spend a year not getting serious about his life.

Anyway, I visited Mom, had Vinny�s, saw a Stiller Division win, made 2 new friends, and met a Rhetoric major during my unexpected Steeler weekend.