or Holy Crap the Stillers made it to the Super Bowl?!?
Okay, so as many of you know by now my sports-luvin heart belongs to my beloved Boys of Winter, Sid the Kid and the rest of our fabulous Penguins. That said, it's hard not to get caught up in the fervor of Steelers mania when they've managed to overcome key-player injuries, huge fines and a major pre-season controversy involving a quarterback being an utter asshole jerkface jagoff, to somehow win a Super Bowl berth.
Have you heard?
We're in the SUPER BOWL, BABY!!!
And almost everyone is consumed by the spectacle. Believe it or not, the Burgh has more women donning team sports shirts (football or hockey) per capita than any other city. We lovely ladies are loyal franchise supporters... or maybe we're just a town of beer-swilling tomboys. Whatever the case, virtually every office is awash in a sea of Black and Gold wearing employees on Fridays. Hospitals, banks, doctor's offices, department stores, television anchor desks...
|They got the fevah...except for Gomer there|
Pittsburgh is weird, but in a good way.
The tremendously tressed Troy Polamalu and company are in search of their seventh trophy, while the Packers of Green Bay are hellbent on returning the Lombardi to its roots. As I write this, things don't look so good for the home team. We're down by 11.
The thing is this. The Mother of all Sporting Championships is being played in Dallas, Texas.
There is a long, storied history of hatred between Cowboys and Steelers fans. We CANNOT lose here. We just can't. Losing in Dallas would be akin to the searing pain of falling to the self-proclaimed "America's effing Team" back in 1995. It's a matter of principle.
The Steelers hoisting their seventh Lombardi trophy in Dallas would be a poetic end to this troubled season.
And then there's this.
|Et tu, Rhette?|
As much as I adore Rhett Miller, and you all know how ridiculously deep that is, he can't get his wish. He just can't.
This game is already way too freaking tense. I doubt I'll have any nails left when this is over. There's no way I'm getting any sleep tonight. Tomorrow will definitely be a espresso-IV-drip kind of morning. Until the outcome is determined, let me leave you (and me) with the most ADORABLE photo of my friend Lori's Terrible Towel-waving bambino to calm our collective nerves.
Look at that beautiful cherub! How can you possibly disappoint the cutest toddler on the face of this crazy blue planet? Do you hear me, Steelers? Good God! Win this thing already, you know, for the kids.
Where the hell's my valium?