Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

I Hate the Steelers

I fell asleep when the Steelers were beating up the Colts 14 to 3. Just know this ... I hate the Steelers. It's a Steelers -- Browns thing. It goes back to John Henry Johnson running wild for 200 yards on a warm October night, as I listened to the game on WHK, 1420 on the radio dial, and the Steelers decimating the superior, Jim-Brown-led Cleveland Browns. It was a massacre and molded my whole world view. I hate the Steelers.

So, Stacey woke me up after Jerome Bettis fumbled at the goal line with a minute left, the score being 21 to 18, Pittsburgh leading.

I know what you're thinking, but this development sucked big time, of course, because I was rooting for the Steelers. I hate the Steelers, but I was rooting for them. It's not that I hate the Colts more, either, except that I dislike Peyton Manning, not that Peyton Manning has ever done anything to make me dislike him, but his father made such a big fucking deal about Peyton's contract and who he would and wouldn't play for ... that's why I can't stand Peyton Manning, but the Colts, they're okay. It's that I hate the fucking Broncos. And the winner of the Steelers -- Colts game would be playing the Broncos next week. So, I was rooting for the Steelers to beat the Colts.

You must bare with me ... or bear with me ... whatever ... because it all makes sense. The thing about the Broncos is that it's not the same quality of hatred as I have for the Steelers ... with the Steelers, it's a long-standing, deep-seated hatred, but it's a comfortable, almost affectionate hatred born out of this long-standing, time-honored feud (and I was at the 1975 AFC Championship game against the Raiders when it was 92 below zero); with the Broncos, that's a fucking John-Elway-Drive hatred and John-Elway-Jinx-Fumble hatred that all Browns' fans have in common, born not of sport, but of some strange, other-worldly designer's awful, yet artful, imagination, a truth-is-stranger-than-fiction, evil imagination. On another timeline, the Browns won two Super Bowls, never left town, like the Colts abandoned Baltimore in the middle of the night ... and isn't it ironic that the Browns ended up in Baltimore to replace the Colts and won the Super Bowl in real time? So, you see, there is some hand out there, not saying it's an intelligent hand, but there's something out there -- Las Vegas bookies, perhaps -- directing this high drama called the N. F. L.

So, I wanted the Steelers to beat the Colts; and the Steelers would then face the evil-incarnate Broncos for the AFC championship. And with less than a minute left and the ball in the hands of Peyton Manning, things did not look good for the Steelers. At that point, I knew the Steelers would lose because that's destiny. The team for which I root invariably loses. The Browns, the Indians, the Akron Aeros -- all losers when I'm rooting for them ... that's fate; so, I knew my hated Steelers were going to lose.

Then with about 35 seconds left, the telephone chimed in. Who the fuck could be calling now? It was Sindi (I could tell) from Enterprise Rent-A-Car calling about my recent rental experience, and her nice voice from the ether wanted me to answer just a few questions, which would help them to improve service and only take a few minutes of my time. I said, "No;" and I touched the "off" button. And then, all of a sudden, it's Mike the Kicker in the game to try a game-tying field goal for the Colts, which would set up the Steelers' losing the coin toss, and the Colts then marching down the field and scoring for an overtime win ... it was already planned out by some guy in a Vegas backroom, like Cal Ripken hitting a homerun in his final, fixed, at-bat of his career.

But, apparently, other forces were at work. Because Mike the Kicker choked big-time, missing. And next week, it's the Steelers against the Broncos. I'm rooting for the Steelers, which I hate, to beat the fucking Broncos, which I hate. Don't call during the game.

Posted by Bill at January 15, 2006 11:56 PM