Pittsburgh Dish

18-1

Hahahahahahahahaha!

Photo: Scene where a local Patriots fan's hopes for perfection were murdered.

What a long strange football season it was. Almost from the first week, a fourth Super Bowl victory seemed a preordained, unavoidable fait accompli of the gridiron for the New England Patriots. In the beginning, the Pats blitzkrieg looked unstoppable, as they shamelessly ran up the score in DC and Dallas. I hated them. As the season wore on, they became a more familiar villain, winning close games against the Ravens, Eagles and Giants. These were the guys who had won three Super Bowls by a combined nine points, the ones who hung around like a venereal disease and squeaked out wins in the waning moments. It was even more demoralizing than their shock and awe attack tactics. I knew this team. They were enough to quell my love for the game.

I didn’t look forward to the playoffs and by the time Super Bowl XLII rolled into Glendale, Arizona, I was dreading it. Even worse, I was already dreading the 2008 season. I felt like King Henry II inciting his henchmen to assassinate Archbishop of Canterbury. Would nobody rid me of these meddlesome cheaters?

I wasn't myself. I was more apathetic about football than ever before in my life. The Patriots seemed, literally, bullet-proof. SpyGate? But a trifle. Salary Cap? No problem. Injuries? Those are for other teams. Their march toward immortality was downright inexorable.

I could not bring myself to watch Bill Belichick equal Chuck Noll (at least so far as the record books were concerned.) I couldn’t stand to see Tedy Bruschi and his childish cohort, Mike Vrabel, celebrate again. I couldn’t stomach the talk that, not only should Randy Moss be inducted into Canton at the first possible moment, he should win the Nobel Prize for Peace for behaving like an adult for the first time in his life. I could not watch owner Robert Kraft (who aligns himself with Jerry Jones and Danny Snyer at every owners meeting, giving new meaning to the term, Axis of Evil), hoist the trophy.

I had gone completely off the reservation in my hatred of the Patriots. So disheartened was I that for the first time since Super Bowl IX, I barely watched the game, seeing probably only 10 minutes of live action. What kind of crazy voodoo had the Patriots domination of all things NFL wrought? I blame head cheat, Bill Belichick.

For football fans, Super Bowls mark the passage of time. I can tell you where I was, who I was with and, despite the adage that nobody remembers the losers, I remember them. I’m enough of a dork that I’ve committed to memory the results of Super Bowls I through VIII. And enough of a geek that I simply remember IX through XLII.

I watched some stinkers. I distinctly remember folding laundry as a gimpy Doug Williams rained down TD’s on a shell-shocked Broncos’ defense in Super Bowl XXII. I watched in my college dorm on a tiny television as the Bears dominated the Patriots in every possible way in Super Bowl XX, giving Tony Eason a certain case of post-traumatic stress disorder. I watched the amazing Niners comeback over the "Ickey Shuffle" Bengals in Super Bowl XXIII at a friend’s apartment in the East End (we ordered in some fantastic Chinese food and smoked something that you might find in Randy Moss’ ashtray. If you know what I mean.)

I remember watching Super Bowl XXV, of the infamous "wide right" Norwood kick alone in my first apartment on Butler Street. I watched the Pats first Super Bowl win in XXXVI at a party in my North Side neighborhood.

I remember freezing while watching John Elway get his first ring in Super Bowl XXXIII at a bar that had no heat. It was about 7 degrees Fahrenheit outside and not much warmer inside, but the wings and beer, football and friends were enough to keep us there.

I always associate the Ravens win in Super Bowl XXXV with my friend R.J. screaming, "Aaaah! I’m blind!" as commissioner Tagliabue passed the Lombardi Trophy to Art Modell.

The Redskins broke open Super Bowl XVII when John Riggins’ ripped off a touchdown run on a 4th and 2 play. I watched that one with my Uncle Brendan. Several years later, he died in a car crash, and although that wasn’t the last football game we watched together, it was the last Super Bowl. I’ve had a soft spot for Riggins ever since.

But no matter the company, I simply could not bear to watch that gang of beantown miscreants crow after their inevitable Super Bowl XLII win. I feared it would make me violent. Or ill. Or, more likely, violently ill with Linda Blair like projectile vomit spewing all over the beautiful HD screen.

So it came to pass that I rented season one of "Rescue Me" and turned on the game intermittently. By the time Super Bowl XLII was over, Eli Manning gave me my football groove back. I never would have guessed that my hero who would be the lesser scion of the self-proclaimed royal clan of football. The Aw Shucks Kid, the kid straight out of a central casting for a revival of Mayberry RFD, Eli Manning, beat Tom Terrific, of the Hollywood good looks and trail of super models in his wake.

And for denying the Patriots their perfect season and place among the immortals in sport, and in very Patriot like fashion, I am forever indebted to Michael Strahan, Justin Tuck and Osi Umenyiora, Eli, Tom Coughlin and Plaxico Burress. Oh, it's a good feeling.

So congrats to the New York Giants and the Mara family and especially the fans. Because it sucks to have your team travel this far and lose. Just ask the Patriots faithful.

18-1, baby, 18-1. Say it again. It feels good. 18-1. This isn’t as good as the afterglow after Super Bowl Extra Large, but it’s damned close.

Three rings, not four. 18-1. I can hardly wait for training camp.

Let's Go Pens

At least we have hockey.

Jody DiPerna refelects on the Steelers

All through the 2007 season, the Steelers were a team lacking in identity. Or rather, maybe, they lacked consistency. Were they the team with the top ranked defense? Or the team that was carved up by Tom Brady and the Patriots for 34 points and more than 400 yards? Were they the opportunistic, high-flying offense who embarrassed the Baltimore Ravens on a wet Monday night? Or the team that scored just 16 points against the lowly New York Jets?

Turns out, they were all of the above, and the 31-29 loss to the Jacksonville Jaguars in the wild card round of the playoffs was the prism that clarified everything right about 2007. And everything wrong.

If you’re at all like me, you’ve reached the breaking point watching the Steelers special teams. Year in, year out, I wonder if there are even any Division III college teams with worse special teams coverage? In fact, mano a mano, I’d put money on the Gateway Gators returning kicks against the Steelers.

And so it was on Saturday early on in the disappointing playoff loss to Jacksonville. If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, then watching Steelers games and expecting adequate special teams play is the height of insanity.

Jeff Reed is one of the best field goal kickers around with thighs like Eric Heiden. So how is it that he rarely kicks into the end zone? I'm not suggesting that it's easy, but it seems to me one of the most uncomplicated elements of a professional football game. Given that the coverage units available to him are mostly inert, he could become a Pittsburgh legend if he could take them out of the game entirely by forcing touchbacks. Heck, Mr. Rooney might even give him a pay raise for it. For my part, I’d personally lobby Mayor Ravenstahl to rename the Fort Duquesne Bridge in his honor.

Coach Tomlin tried to address special teams. Maybe it really is that difficult to run hard, stay in your lane and tackle, but I don’t think so. The first guy to make a mistake on kick coverage in August 2008 should get a visit from the Turk. It would send a message: either play smart special teams or look for employment elsewhere.

There’s plenty more blame to be ladled out and despite his greatness, Ben Roethlisberger didn’t help by throwing a pick six to allow the Jags to take the lead. And throwing another interception before halftime, squelching a potential field goal drive. He overcame his mistakes in the second half, so I’m going to defend him because the Steelers would have lost the division to Cleveland (gah) without Roethlisberger.

Coach Cowher had some great teams that never won a Super Bowl. 1994. 1995. 1997. 2001. 2002. Those teams had everything you needed. Except those teams could not overcome their quarterbacks: Neil O'Donnell, Kordell Stewart and Tommy Maddox. That Cowher finally got that elusive ring when he finally got a franchise quarterback is no coincidence.

There will be missteps and interceptions. But there will be more comebacks like the one he orchestrated Saturday night. Roethlisberger remains their best player and their best chance.

The mistake parade just keeps on rolling though because this loss was a team effort. The defense reminded us of how it was that the Steelers lost to the Jets. (Kellen Clemens drove the Jets from their own 14 to tie the game on a field goal and force overtime. Kellen Clemens.)

Coach Tomlin looked like the rookie that he is when he stubbornly went for a two-point conversion from the 12-yard line.

Meanwhile, offensive coordinator Bruce Arians reminded us of why he was once fired from a coaching position with Temple (yes, Temple University) by becoming inexplicably enamored of fade patterns in crucial situations. At best, fade patterns probably work about 10-15% of the time. They essentially take away the quarterback out of the play by giving him just one option -- he’s got to make that toss, without looking anywhere else.

But Arians saved his worst for last, calling a head-scratching quarterback end around behind Trai Essex (of all people) on a 3rd and six which might have put the game out of reach for Jacksonville.

I’m not calling for Tomlin to fire Arians (yet), but really, once you’ve been fired by Temple, perhaps your football career should be over. Tomlin needs to rein Arians, by taking the moronic fade patterns out of the repertoire and limiting the number of slow developing plays, in lieu of quick tosses to Heath Miller, Hines Ward and Santonio Holmes. Every time they throw a quick slant to Holmes, he turns it into a touchdown. That’s just what the man does.

And though my dawg, Captain Glenn will disagree with me, there are some positives to the Arians offense. There are likewise some glaring negatives. It's up to Tomlin to find a way to emphasis the former and minimize the latter this off-season.

Nobody involved with the Steelers should feel good about losing a game that was there to be won. To their credit, the Jaguars made fewer mistakes, David Garrard made key runs and they did just enough to win. They should be feeling good about that. Though I will be rooting for them, I don’t expect them to go into New England and shock the world. Sadly.

It’s always hard to handle a playoff loss and losses by one’s own hand are particularly hard to get over. I’m putting aside dreams of glory this year and looking forward to draft day in April. I hope it goes something like this: Offensive Line, Offensive Line, Defensive Line, Defensive Line, Offensive Line, Offensive Line, Safety.

Photos found here.

New England Hatriots: Screed '07

by Jody DiPerna

As Sunday’s date with destiny rolls around for the Steelers, I try to remind myself that what feels like a cataclysmic clash of good versus evil is just one more regular season game. With a two game lead on the Cleveland Browns, it’s not the end of the world if the Steelers lose. At least that’s what I told myself in the shower this morning. And again as I sat down at my desk. Lather, rinse, repeat.

During the course of my tenure at the Dish (ha, I said ‘tenure’ and ‘Dish’ in the same sentence), I have written many nasty things about the New England Patriots. We are way ahead of the curve, producing venom filled anti-Patriots screeds as far back as the fall of 2005. But this season, the rest of America has finally come to realize that the Pats are pox upon football fans. I blame Dick Cheney.

Here’s what we know. The Patriots own their division and have all but locked up the number one seed in the AFC, running up the score on more teams than I can count without taking off my shoes. But how do they really compare to the good guys?

The quarterbacks have surprisingly similar career passer ratings (91.5 for Ben Roethlisberger and 92.7 for Tom Brady) and career completion percentages (63.5% and 62.9%, respectively.) It’s the touchdown to interception ratio where Brady really shines (188 TDs-83 INTS compared to Roethlisberger’s 77 TDs-54 INTs). Add those stats to all the Brady Babymamas running around out there and you’d be foolish to argue with Tom Terrific’s ability to score. But I’d say Roethlisberger knows how to use a sack better.

At the wide receiver positions, Pittsburgh has Hines "First Down" Ward, Super Bowl XL MVP and champion of little bi-racial children everywhere. He gets his weekly manicures and pedicures at former Steelers Mike Logan’s shop (Fahrenheit 212, 1901 Centre Avenue, Pittsburgh.) Talk about giving back to the community! Or New England’s Randy "Roach Clip" Moss, a superstar talent who admits to taking plays off. I admit a small fondness for Moss because he sent Joe Buck into near apoplexy by fake mooning fans.

For the good guys is Zen master, Gatorade eschewing, soft-spoken, deeply religious, hard-hitting safety, Troy Polamalu. He looks like a yetti and has the closing speed of Secretariat. On the other side is the biggest mouthpiece in the NFL, renown cheap shot artist, and proven HGH cheat, Rodney Harrison.

Suiting up at outside linebacker are James Harrison and Mike Vrabel, respectively. Both played college ball in Ohio. Harrison went to Kent State. Vrabel went to The Ohio State. Nuff said.

At inside linebacker, in black and gold is James Farrior, the mild-mannered product of the University of Virginia, whose tackles remain textbook perfection. Trotting out in the silver and blue (and red and white) is Tedy Bruschi, the stroke-addled backer who struts around like Patrick Swayze in "The Outsiders." Oh Pony Boy!

It doesn’t matter who plays at the other safety spot for the New England, because Rhodes Scholar Anthony Smith plays for the Steelers. I know the writers’ strike has everybody down, but hasn’t Smith learned anything from the ‘Daily Show?’ Gentlemen, start your platitudes ...

As to the coaches, Pittsburgh’s Mike Tomlin is dreamy while it’s a minor miracle that New England’s Bill Belichick even had a mistress (maybe she had a thing for hoodies ...)

Tomlin is thought of as a stand up guy, much in the mold of his mentor, Tony Dungy, who was mentored, of course, by Chuck Noll. So confident is Tomlin that he retained beloved defensive genius, Dick LeBeau, allowing him to continue running his zone blitz packages.

Despite the accolades, his reputation as a football genius, the best coach of his era, and maybe the best coach ever, despite three Super Bowl victories as head coach in New England (and a few others as the defensive coordinator with the New York Giants) -- despite all that, Bill Belichick was insecure enough that he cheated.

It’s evident that the New England franchise is pure evil -- if you still buy into their disingenuous goody two shoes act, either your area code is 617 or I’ve got some really valuable property in Munhall that I’d like to sell you for a small fortune. But when it’s all over, either the Steelers will have smote the evil empire, goodness and light will blanket Western Pennsylvania and there will be much rejoicing at Dish headquarters.

Or, the Steelers will be just another victim of the Patriots machine. Sure it will hurt, but worst case scenario has them just one game ahead of the Browns rather than two (or even three.) It’s just one more regular season game. I’ll try to remind myself of that on Sunday while I put on the eye black and my Pitt Football t-shirt (in the hopes of bringing some of that upset special karma along.) Go ahead and laugh. I’m a dork like that.

Bungle buffoonery basted

I love Bengals week

by Jody DiPerna

In addition to participating in the wildly popular Carson Palmer Cornhole Classic this off-season, the Cincinnati Bengals receiving corps may want to acquaint themselves with reality. Chad Johnson, T.J. Houshmandzadeh, Chris Henry, meet reality. Steelers 24, Bengals 10.

They could also introduce themselves to reality by watching film of Hines Ward. The guy who is routinely mugged, but still had 11 receptions against the Bengals for 90 yards, and two touchdowns while T.J. Houshmandzadeh complained all night for a flag on every play. As my buddy Smiley pointed out, "watch and learn, crybaby."

They could learn from Ward. The receiver who is the best blocking wide out in the league without question. The one with a Super Bowl ring to accompany his Super Bowl MVP award. The receiver who holds the record for the most touchdown grabs in Steelers history. The guy who was drafted as a utility player out of Georgia and who is making a strong case for a party in Canton a few years after his retirement.

That Hines Ward. The one who smiles and blocks and absorbs hits so violent that defenders limp off the field while he trots back to the huddle. Not that he needs the help, but thanks to Marvin Lewis’ defense for leaving him completely uncovered in the back of the end zone for his first touchdown.

In typical Cincinnati fashion, Houshmandzadeh had a Terrible Towel on his waist during pre-game warm ups. What was he planning to do with that? Oh, right, to polish his shoes. Or some other equally unrealistic obnoxious nonsense given his team’s 4-7 record and the fact that the Steelers are, in fact, Dey. You have to wonder if there is a bigger bunch of a-holes than the Bengals wide receivers.

The great and magnificent Carson Palmer was 17 of 44 on the night. That’s not a typo: he completed just 39% of his passes. If you take away the Bengals first drive, when they looked like an actual team, when Palmer was five for seven, then he was 12 of 37, connecting 32% of the time.

The Steelers defensive backs got so far into Houshmandzadeh’s head that by the end of the night, he was jumping up and down, taking off his helmet, stomping off the field like a spoiled brat. The magnificent defense, combined with Palmer’s inaccuracy and Houshmandzadeh was so frustrated that he may have been benched for the Bengals last gasp series. It is unconfirmed, but it was the only time I didn’t see him crying to the refs, so I suspect Lewis took him out of the game to avoid having him penalized and/or tossed.

The Bengals had one last chance to do something to salvage the season. They had a chance to, at the very least, put their hated rivals’ in a less than optimal spot for a playoff run. With just under two minutes left in the game, they had a chance to tighten the score. On 4th and 17, Palmer hit Chad Johnson on the sidelines for 13 yards. Johnson stepped out of bounds to save clock. He had no idea it was 4th down and he was shy of the 1st down. Thanks, Ocho Stinko, for putting an exclamation point on what I had been saying all night about the Bengals being callow. His face was brilliant, as you could see this wash over him, "What? We have to give the ball back? Why? Why didn't somebody remind me of what down it was."

Too bad Houshmandzadeh was on sitting on a cooler on the sidelines. Had he been in the game he might have reminded Johnson of the down and distance. Wanna bet Hines Ward knew it was 4th down?

I don’t know why I expected anything else from the Bengals, particularly in this 21st Century version of the NFL, when nothing is ever the fault of the players or the coaches. It’s the field. It’s the refs. It’s the position of the moon in the sky. It’s the halftime entertainment. It’s the media’s treatment of Britney Spears. It’s the stale nachos. Wah, wah, wah.

Cincinnati could have won that game. If they were more mature. If they were more disciplined. If they were, you know, just more better. But they aren't. They are who we thought they were. The Bungles.

Jets ground Steelers

Pittsburgh hurls

by Jody DiPerna

Coach Cowher used to like to say that there’s a fine line in football. I always took that to mean that very little separates good teams from great teams, good teams from bad teams. Maybe it meant that just a few breaks, consistent quarterbacking, few injuries and a small dose of luck separated the 2005 Super Bowl Champion Steelers from the mediocre 2006 version. Like the old ball coach, I have a football saying, too: Is it safe to stop puking? You may interpret that any old way you like.

Before the New England Patriots took the field in Buffalo last night, fans of their evil dominance could dismiss the last legitimate threats to their 2007 reign of terror. The San Diego Chargers are lead by Norv Turner. Nuff said. The Indianapolis Colts have been wracked with heinous injuries. And the Steelers? Coach Tomlin may want to make Ben Roethlisberger a healthy scratch for the New England game on December 9th, for fear that he may be decapitated. Or worse.

Apparently, the Steelers once again felt that it was too expensive to travel with their offensive line and appeared to suit up a handful of tailgaters to lead the way for Roethlisberger and Willie Parker. Sacked seven times and hit countless other times, Roethlisberger faced a D-Day like barrage from the Jets, who had averaged one sack per game prior to this classic showdown. They hardly put anybody in mind of the 1985 Bears or even the old Gang Green teams. So the question remains: what do Sean Mahan and Jeff Hartings have in common? That’s a trick question. I don’t see a single similarity.

Meanwhile, the Steelers defense allowed the 29th ranked offense in the league to drive the length of the field with 2:23 left in the game. Frankly, the Jets should have won the game in regulation, had Brad Smith hauled in the perfectly thrown ball from Kellen Clemens to the corner of the endzone on 2nd and goal.

Instead, the Jets had to wait until overtime for the third phase of the game to help them out, when the Steelers special teams handed them field goal field position on a short punt by rookie, Daniel Sepulveda. Is it me or does he boom them when it doesn't matter, and spit the bit at big moments? It’s certainly something worth keeping your eye on. With that special teams contribution, I suppose you could say that the Steelers were clicking on all cylinders.

As all three losses have come on the road to arguably inferior opponents, you have to wonder: are they letting down? are they playing to the level of the opposition or at least the perceived level of the opposition? Regardless of the outcome of the season, the Steelers have to know that elite teams roll the Jets and really good ones squeak out a win, despite not playing their best ball.

If the Steelers miss the playoffs (which is not impossible as Cleveland could win out) they can point to this display of inestimable putridity as the reason. If they make the playoffs, they may be looking at another rematch with the Browns and good god, it really is 2002 all over again. If you weren't already retching, that might signal Avril Lavigne releasing a new disc during this calendar year.

Oddly, there is an upside, which is that I was too disgusted with the Steelers to watch any football last night and thus, spared myself watching the Patriots eviscerate yet another victim. I also caught up on two episodes of the Family Guy. Good times.

Still, I'm in a foul humor this afternoon. If moods were celebrities, mine would be Britney Spears right now. I may injure myself at the gym and there is the real possibility of a torn pectoralis in my near future. I’m submitting the bill the Steelers HQ.

Browns go down

Was it good for you?

by Jody DiPerna

How many different ways can you say that the Cleveland Browns are Ben Roethlisberger’s bitch? Throw out franchise records and Jim Brown. It has nothing to do with the Steel Curtain, or with Bernie Kosar, Martyball and the unfortunate Malone and Brister eras. Forget about Bill Belichick and Bill Cowher.

Simply put, Ben Roethlisberger owns Cleveland. They should give him a key to the city or something.

There is no way to statistically account for the importance of Roethlisberger to his team. His QB rating is impressive at 110.2 for the season, but that hardly touches his magnificence against the Browns. Despite being sacked four times, hit three more times, throwing an interception and losing a fumble (which was mercifully recovered by Johnny on the Spot, a/k/a, Heath Miller), Roethlisberger did something that great quarterbacks do - shook off hits and miscues to drag his team to victory. Ordinary quarterbacks cannot do this. And by ordinary quarterbacks, I mean, pretty much every QB that suited up in black and gold since Bradshaw retired (not to name names.)

Which was more impressive: Roethlisberger’s near perfect passer rating and five touchdown passes in the first half against the Ravens on Monday night? Or Roethlisberger picking his team up off the turf, swatting aside special teams follies like they were gnats, and carrying his team to a two game lead in the AFC North? (It’s a trick question. They’re both equally impressive.)

It wasn’t all Roethlisberger. Miller had another clutch day, catching the go ahead touchdown which came in with enough velocity to have been shot from a bazooka. Hines Ward played like Hines Ward, with a touchdown and 80 yards on the day, along with blocking everything within his site in an orange helmet. (Too much has already been written about Roethlisberger’s TD scramble, but if you look downfield, Ward is holding his block and holding his block, waiting for his QB to cross the goal line.)

My buddy Banyas emailed me this morning pointing to the defensive halftime adjustments as difference between Dick LeBeau and former Steelers DC, Tim Lewis. He's so much more polite than I am. If there were a category for NFL Defensive Schemes in "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader," Lewis would no doubt fail. Meanwhile, LeBeau would be teaching post-doctoral seminars on halftime adjustments at Yale.

The Browns 2nd half possessions looked like this: three and out; three and out; fumble; three and out; six and out [penalties accounting for the extra snaps]; kick off return for touchdown; three and out; and seven plays for 32 yards leading to the short field goal to end the game.

LeBeau took away what Anderson wanted to do, forcing him to go outside his comfort zone. To the players' credit, they stayed home and played out their assignments. I have no idea what he said to his squad at halftime, but whatever it was, they should write it down and enshrine it at Canton, along with coach Lebeau himself, who is long, long over due.

A five carry day for 49 yards and a touchdown is an average day for Vince Young and a fond memory for Mike Vick. But for Roethlisberger’s team, it meant the difference between a divisional tie with the Browns and control of their own destiny. (If the playoffs started now, the Steelers would be the No. 2 seed, as one of their losses was out of conference and both of the Colts losses have come from AFC foes.)

Roethlisberger put his team here with his arm and his legs. And with his karma as he willed the Dawson kick short and wrestled Hines Ward to the turf in celebration. Like I said, the stats hardly tell the story.

Stillers v. Nevermores

Stellar defenses on tap tonight

by Jody DiPerna

We’ll find out just how good Mike Tomlin’s Steelers really are when they host the Ravens tonight, which won’t be as easy as last Sunday because that orange and black roadkill you see in the rearview? That there is a train wreck of a football team.

Still, Ray Lewis’ presence on the North Side shouldn’t inflate the heinous amount of gunplay we’ve witnessed in the last six months (reference video below), but I am in hiding for fear of a potential shiving. (Is shiv a verb? Or do you use a shiv (n.) to shank (v.) a potential victim? These are the things I need to know.)

The point is, as much as the Ravens may miss Adalius Thomas, this defense is still ferocious and it wasn’t Thomas, but Bart Scott who hit Ben Roethlisberger so violently I felt pain in my own spleen. Looking at Roethlisberger lying on the Baltimore turf during that 27-0 drubbing, I thought he might actually be dead.

In tonight’s meeting of the defenses currently ranked one and two in the NFL, maybe the Steelers give the Ravens a little taste of their own medicine. You know, what’s good for the goose, is good for the largest species of passerine birds.

I'm not much of a numbers cruncher most of the time, but if the Pats-Colts can be billed as Super Bowl XLI ½ (the dumbest thing I've heard since, well, since somebody gave Paris Hilton a TV show), it’s worth seeing if we I can tease anything out of the stats for tonight’s match up.

The defenses are both stellar. The Steelers and Ravens are one and two, giving up an average of 257 and 268 yards per game, respectively. Teams have attempted 30 more running plays against the Ravens than Steelers opponents, which is just stupid, because while the Steelers yield just 3.8 yards per attempt, the Ravens have been even stingier, giving up just 2.9 yards per attempt.

The Steelers have caused ball carriers to drop, mishandle or otherwise, you know, fumble the ball, 12 times, six of which have been recovered by the Steelers. (Although I think probably five of those were attributable to Charlie Frye, thus throwing off the stats.) Baltimore has caused just five fumbles and recovered three. But still, it's pretty likely that it'll be tough sledding for both Willie Parker and Willis McGahee. Glad I could help get that bit of obviousness out of the way.

Add to that, neither team has shown a propensity to self-immolate on defense. The Steelers have drawn the fewest defensive penalties in the league, with just 26 flags for 201 yards; the Ravens have only been flagged 33 times this year, so they won't be of much help to Ben & Co. much, either.

As to the passing games, one team starts a guy who ranks 4th in the NFL in passer rating behind a couple of guys I never heard of and Jacksonville's David Garrard. The Ravens injury report lists Airless McNair as probable, and he ranks 19th in the league; back up and former first round draft pick, Kyle Boller, ranks 23rd in the league. So there's that. Even with defensive backfield injuries (Bryant McFadden will be running on a bum ankle and Ryan Clark is out), that looks like a huge advantage to the Steelers.

But ... every time I think about Ben dropping back to pass, I think about Bart Scott and honestly, my spleen hurts just thinking about it. The Steelers converted only three of 26 third downs in the two Baltimore smack downs in 2006. I know it’s a new year and Roethlisberger is playing better, but the line isn’t. Add to that, Carey Davis is not the blocking back that Dan Kreider is and Kreider’s gonna go on a bum ankle.
In short, the Ravens D still scares me.

How can the Steelers overcome a defense which has allowed the fewest first downs in the NFL (94) and the fewest via the air (59), [only one-third of the third downs they’ve faced]?

Roethlisberger is back to his old tricks of shaking off and stiff-arming defenders, running around to buy time, and probably even holding on to the ball a little too long from time to time, confident in his abilities to make a play down field. He probably won’t have much time tonight, even with his own physical gifts. The best way to beat the Nevermores is to hit quick, short passes over the middle. Which should mean that Matt Spaeth and Heath Miller have huge games. If Miller doesn’t have five catches in the first half, start to fret. It’s their best hope to keep Roethlisberger upright.

But maybe there’s another advantage. The Steelers cut Ricardo Colclough after the Bengals game (and I'll just let that speak for itself.) With Ravens regular return B.J. Sams on IR, maybe the real advantage will be to the Steelers newly revamped special teams?

What can the Browns do for you?

They can lose very well

by Jody DiPerna

For weeks, I kept asking, is it football yet? I was bored with pouring over cut lists and available free agents, and sick of ferreting out the Steelers potential schemes and development. I was ready for some meaningful football, Mike Tomlin-style. And so were the Steelers. Apparently, the Browns ... well, not so much.

One has to wonder what the Browns front office might have done to piss off NFL HQ which would cause them to scheduled a certain loss to open the season. Ben Roethlisberger has never lost to the Browns. And the Browns? Under Romeo Crennel they are 1-12 against divisional foes. Really. Crennel has just one win as a head coach against AFC North teams. That’s a winning percentage of 8%, people. (That can’t be right. Am I doing my percentages right? 1 divided by 13 equals .08. Yup. 8 percent.)

It wasn’t surprising that the outcome was already decided a few minutes into the second quarter when fans started screaming for the former fighting papist and No. 1 draft pick, the great and magnificent Brady-Quinn-from-Charlie-Weis’-pro-style-system-at-Notre-Dame. I wanted to see Quinn behind that horrific Cleveland line to be steam-rolled by James Farrior, myself. Actually, I wanted to see Quinn because he really brings out the fag in every announcer as they embarrass themselves ooohing and aaaahing over his amazing biceps development. Who doesn't want to hear CBS’ Rich Gannon swoon about Quinn?

But even zombie Crennel knew better. Instead of throwing his Catholic to the lions, he inserted a former Beaver for the struggling former Zip. (As I write this, ESPN has just announced that the Browns traded Charlie Frye to the Seattle Seahawks, for which Charlie should be thankful: compared to what Browns fans were ready to do to him, Pittsburghers were downright cuddy with Kordell Stewart .)

Dick LeBeau’s defense looks just like a LeBeau defense, which is to say, fast, aggressive and magnificent. The impressive stat line (six sacks, three fumbles forced, two interceptions) doesn’t do justice to the complete dominance of the Cleveland offensive line. Just 38 seconds into the game, Aaron Smith dropped Frye in the backfield for a 5 yard sack on a 3rd and 8.

Question: When was the last time Aaron Smith got a sack?

Answer: When was the last time the Steelers played Cleveland?

Everybody was in on the act. James Farrior had a spectacular game and at one point, James Harrison hit Frye so hard, I think he knocked the green dot off his helmet. Even Crennel invoking the ghost of the Patriots tuck rule on his challenge of the Ryan Clark/Derek Anderson fumble didn’t work. It’s a good day when that ghost is left to sleep.

On the other side, Roethlisberger shook off the doubts of 2006 and the ghosts of his Second Avenue skidmarks with his pin-point accuracy. Bruce Arians play calling was eerily reminiscent of Terry Bradshaw's. The deep touchdown to Santonio Holmes following Jamal Lewis’ fumble? Vintage TB. Things were going so well that even tight ends Matt Spaeth and Heath Miller got into the endzone.

Disgruntled guard Alan Faneca had a Hollywood glamour moment while lead blocking on Ced Wilson’s spectacular reverse. (I turn that exact same shade of deep red when I’m running in hot weather, too.) If Faneca plays that well when he’s unhappy, then the line will be fine once they work out the kinks.

As to the forgotten third phase of the game, Ronald Reagan was still cogent the last time the Steelers special teams looked this good.

The new guy, Sepulveda, dropped punts that bounced straight up in the air and hung there for his coverage teams. It’s freakish. His first punt was downed at the Cleveland 30 by Lawrence Timmons; the second punt was downed at the 2 by Nate Washington; his third effort was downed by Timmons at the 13; his fourth kick was downed at the Cleveland 9. Cleveland returner Josh Cribbs didn’t get to make a single attempt at a return all day. Now that’s what I call coverage.

Coming off an era marked by punt and kick return coverage blunders that killed the Steelers’ at crucial moments, the idea simply putting the ball where the returner cannot or will not get to it seems to be a grand strategy.

It is nearly impossible to judge the Steelers based on what we know the Browns are under Romeo Crennel. Wins won’t always be this effortless for coach Tomlin and the Steelers probably aren’t quite as good as they looked. Then again, they didn’t have to be. They only had to beat the Browns. So they punched their time cards, knocked the snot out of Cleveland and came home. Next week, they get to beat the Bills. Maybe I’m looking at the world through Brownie colored glasses, but I like their chances.

Meantime, don’t be surprised if you hear Cleveland fans chanting for Bill Cowher during next week’s Browns-Bengals game.

Pittsburgh passion

Lady gridders bring home the title

by Jody DiPerna

On a cool Saturday evening, just 8 miles outside of Nashville, Tennessee, the Pittsburgh Passion women’s football team bitchslapped the Columbus Comets, to bring home their first NWFL Championship. The Passion showed themselves to be the class of the league in every possible way -- talent, coaching, comportment
and even their uniforms.

Just as the 2nd half was about to start, there was nearly an hours delay due to a power outage at charming (some might say archaic) Whites Creek Stadium. The Pittsburgh squad filled the time by stretching and going over schemes in the locker room. The Comets coach took the time to keep his team on the field and berate them for some extra time. One word: wanker.

I'm not sure his technique was the most effective motivational tool, but it didn't matter anyway, as the Passion had already rolled up a 26-0 lead by halftime and added on a final touchdown on the first drive of the 2nd half, getting into the endzone on each of their first six drives of the game.

The offense rolled up nearly 400 yards on the day and featured running backs Torina Henley and Lyndsi Hughes lead by QB and offensive MVP Lisa Horton, who was nearly perfect on the day, except for an interception in the 2nd half. She sheepishly admitted that it was a bad read on her part and she had gotten greedy. It was her single mistake and how many QB's can say that after a game?

The interception mattered little, though. The Passion defense was playing a brand of physical defense that would be considered criminal assault in certain states. Good thing we were in the South. The defense was lead by DE Olivia Griswold, in her first year with Pittsburgh, who was named defensive MVP.

Although I don't have the formal stats in front of me, I'd guess that Griswold, a former Columbus Comet herself, delivered anywhere from 15 to 40 tackles (seriously, she was everywhere), of which three or four would have made Gregg Lloyd smile.

It is the first championship for the Passion since their start five years ago; for the players who have been on the squad since that time, the win is especially sweet. Passion vets, Henley and owner/player Teresa Conn are hanging them up after this year, but there won't be a quarter of a million people downtown parade for them. At least they're going out in the fine style of Jerome Bettis and that is something to rest the chinstrap on.

Passion 32, Columbus 0.

DiPerna hits send, and means it

What’s not to like about pornography? That is unless you’ve just inadvertently sent it to the NFL commissioner.

by Jody DiPerna

So in solidarity with Steelers’ offensive line coach Larry Zierlein, I’ve culled from the draft box of my Outlook Express, all the e-mails I haven’t sent but wish I had:

To: Paul Maholm

Date: May 20, 2007

Dear Paul,

Watched you pitch today. You owe me $13.00 for the beers I had to drink just to get through 5 innings of your ineptitude.

..................................................

To: Ray Shero, Penguins GM

Date: May 23, 2007

Dear Ray,

I understand you spoke to Gary Roberts’ agent regarding extending his contract. Sir, may I say, you may have my car, the deed to my house and my mother’s three cats, if it will help to sign Mr. Roberts. I will also cook and clean for him pro bono. Sex, he’ll have to pay for. Just like downtown.

..................................................

To: Mike Tomlin

Date: May 25, 2007

Dear Coach Tomlin,

Belated congrats on the hire. Sorry about the "up yours."

P.S. If Dallas Baker isn’t already 3rd on the depth chart at wide out, the up yours stands.

..................................................

To: Phil Savage, GM Cleveland Browns

Date: April 29, 2007

Hahahahahahahahahahahaha. Ha.

..................................................

To: Alan Faneca

Date: Today

Dear Alan,

You are a great guard. You are a nice guy. We all like you a whole lot. I’d love for you to finish your Hall of Fame career in Pittsburgh and if you decide to go to some other team and be overpaid, as the Vikes did with Steve Hutchinson, I understand that, too. In short, go do what’s best for you and your family; the Steelers will do what’s best for their organization or at least try to. In the meantime, please shut up.

..................................................

To: Charlie Weis

Date: Anytime

Coach Beelzebub,

I still think you’re the devil you lard ass. Good luck with that lawsuit thingie.

..................................................

To: David Littlefield

Date: Yesterday

Dear Dave,

I frequently pass you as we are both out running on the river trail along the Allegheny River. I often think, " I wish his players took as good care of themselves as he does." Also, please stop drafting pitchers in the first round whose fastball tops out at 88 miles per hour.

..................................................

To: Sidney Crosby

Date: Today

Dear Sid,

Just a quick note to give you my thoughts. Your first season was magnificent. Your second season sublime. I can’t believe I’m about to quote Billy Joel here, but, I like you just the way you are.

Brady Quinn: Social Disease

New Browns QB given "the treatment"

by Jody DiPerna

On my way to get some travel immunizations at the County Health Department a few days after the draft, I passed the waiting room for the sexually transmitted disease clinic. The waiters were all pointedly not making eye-contact, each perfecting his or her singular slouch of shame. You could almost smell the anxiety.

NFL GM's must be gripped by the same unease and disquiet right about now, waiting to see if their picks will bring them glory or ignominy. By now, most media dorks, I mean draft experts, believe that Brady Quinn will revive the Browns' franchise. But like all front offices, the Browns know there’s always a chance their new QB will prove to be a latter-day Rick Mirer, another overrated Notre Dame QB bust. Since my visit to the Allegheny County Health Department in Oakland, which hasn't seen the business end of a paint brush since the Nixon Administration, I started to wonder: don't we all rank potential bed mates the same way that NFL GM's rank draft picks?

And if we do, where does Quinn fit in?

The middle- to-later round picks are the guys you might pick up who are kinda cute, well-groomed and polite. He may not have perfect pedigree, but he’s good for some unencumbered snogging and maybe dating until something better comes along. There's a chance he might turn out to be special, but if he isn’t, he won’t embarrass you around your friends and you probably won't remember him in five years anyway.



Free agent pick ups show no signs of disease or mental illness ... and since it's closing time ... and it's been an awfully long time ... If this works out, you're a genius, by the way.

The high picks are good looking, smart and funny.

These are potential life-mates. They are franchise changing. Giving up a number two and next year's number one to get Quinn, it's clear that the Browns expect Quinn to be Mr. Right. He comes from a big time program, with good size, strength and a really strong arm. He's built to take the pounding of an NFL season and keep getting up.

So, let's say you're a young GM, out on the town looking for romantic company. You’re on the clock. As you make your move, you never think to yourself, "She's cute, but I wonder if she's going to give me the clap?" Regardless of whether she’s free agent type or she might be "the one," nobody expects crabs.


The level of shame, fear and anxiety produced is in inverse proportion to the expectations of about the closing bell dance partner. A free agent from Division III with gonorrhea is horrible, but there’s not much invested and a discreet trip to the docs clears it all up.

A first round draft pick out of the SEC who lands you at the sexually transmitted disease clinic is a disaster. Imagine picking up the woman of your dreams, and, instead of the house in the Shadyside with the Hummer in the driveway, you end up a nasty case of the French Pox. And she pilfered all your Clash CD's. It could take years of psychotherapy and multiple doses of penicillin to get past that.

This is the equivalent of a first round bust, particularly at the QB position. It can set a franchise's psyche back a decade, if not more. It's the worst thing that can happen. Short of picking Ryan Leaf, who has to be considered the ebola virus of draft picks. Enter Mr. Quinn, who presents like marriage material, but given his happy feet and inability to win under pressure, I wonder if he’s one of those guys who’s just good on paper, but not on game day.

Given the media spotlight, the Browns will keep sticking Quinn on the field, sure that he's just about ready to break out, and he'll show just enough promise to keep them optimistic. With a strong enough cast around him, he may even perform well enough to get them back to the playoffs. But he'll never be able to carry a team. He'll never pull off the Roethlisberger-like dramatic play; or the precise, Brady-esque soul-killing drive; he'll never even put up the mad numbers of Peyton Manning.

Yes, Brady Quinn is the next Kordell Stewart. (You thought I was going to go the Michael Vick route, didn't you?) He won't land you at the STD clinic with genital warts, but he certainly won't have you partying at a Super Bowl parade, either.

When that realization hits, probably somewhere around 2013, the powers that be at Browns headquarters will be doing a potato-bug slouch of shame to rival even the most bedraggled visitor to the Allegheny County Health Department's STD clinic.

If I'm wrong, I'll eat dinner with Charlie Weis. And get a shot of penicillin. Just to be on the safe side.

Weis linked to PA slammer

Food loaf explains all

oMisbehaving Pa. county jail inmates served 'food loaf'

BROOKVILLE, Pa. -- Jefferson County's jail warden got a little tired of inmates throwing food despite repeated warnings not to, so he fought back.

Warden David Riley recently started feeding misbehaving inmates a food loaf, made up of all the offerings at mealtime mixed together and formed into a loaf.

"We microwave the food loaf before it is served," Riley said. "It's really not that bad."

Jails across the country commonly serve food loafs as punishment for bad behavior. Some jails don't use the daily meal offerings, but instead use a recipe that includes ingredients like wheat bread, beans, other vegetables and cheeses in order to make sure the inmate's diet meets daily nutritional guidelines.

Five days after offering the unique concoction, Riley said all food throwing stopped at his jail.

"I had one inmate tell me, 'Well warden, you broke me,'" Riley recalls. "It has had the desired effect."

Dish Sports Editor Jody DiPerna believes all leftover food loaf throughout the country (and parts of Canada) is shipped to Notre Dame's Coach Charlie Weis (pictured) for disposal.

A Steelers miracle?

Nah. Just spoiler sports.

by Jody DiPerna

I was ruminating on the Steelers smackdown of the Carolina kitty-cats and their virtual playoff chances while watching the Bungles in the stupid Indy Dome on Monday night. For the Steelers to make it as a wild card team, I think they need: the Jags lose out; the to Jets lose a game or two [not likely playing the Dolphins and Raiders]; the Broncos losing or winning [I can't even remember which]; something with the Buffalo Bills [amazingly enough]; and on top of all that, I think that there has to be a solar eclipse while Haley's Comet passes, on the same day that George W. Bush actually admits that his administration made a mistake or two in the last seven years. In short, it's highly unlikely.

But few things would make me as happy as the possibility that the Steelers could roll into Cincinnati on New Year’s even and piss on the Bengals victory parade. As my buddy Bruce says, when will Marvin Lewis admit that the Steelers are, in fact, Dey.

I'm kind of enjoying the denouncement of the 2006 Steelers in the strangest way. Playing spoiler is some sort of reprieve from tension. Wonder if this is what Lions fans feel like all the time, or if the decades heaped on top of decades of losing have their own special pain?

Maybe my zen like state of balance and harmony lead me to really enjoy the Steelers whupping the Panthers.

They neutralized Julius Peppers - well, Max Starks did hold him most of the game, but you know, as Tunch says, it's not holding if the official doesn't call it. More impressive was the Steelers secondary, down a PuPu, keeping the great Mr. Smith in check, thanks to fine work by both Deshea Townsend and Bryant McFadden. How much do you love corners whose numbers rarely get called? Admittedly, Smith had the ball pitched to him by Chris Weinke, who really has no business setting foot on an NFL field, so that gives it a grain of North Carolina bbq sauce. It’s harsh, but true.

Meanwhile, newcomer Anthony Smith hits as hard as Donnie Shell – and that's some mighty fine company to keep. Once he gets his immature urge to showboat under control, he's gonna be a gamer. I’m drooling over the possibilities for next year when he and PuPu play in the same defensive backfield.

On the other side of the ball, Willie the Magnificent was just that. And Ben Roethlisberger was back to the Ben who we know and love. It's not the amount of yards or number of completions that are impressive. I suppose he'll never put up Peyton Manning or Carson Palmer or Drew Brees numbers. But situationally, would you rather have anybody else on a key third and nine? Maybe Brady. But I’m not sure I’d want anybody besides Ben.

The best play that Roethlisberger made all day, to my mind, was an incompletion. The Steelers had the ball in the Panthers redzone and Ben dropped back to pass. He somehow miraculously escaped the rush of Julius Peppers, slipped on the turf, scrambled outside the pocket and threw the ball away. The Steelers had to settle for 3 on the series, but it was sheer genius for two reasons. First, he somehow escaped the force of nature that is Julius Peppers. And second, he made a smart throw by dumping the ball out of bounds. This is just the kind of throw he'd made into a tight spot or triple coverage earlier in the year, like in the Oakland game. But he seems to have shaken that bad habit and is back to being his old, productive self.

And the biggest surprise of the day? The special teams. Just how much do you think that the Steelers missed James Harrison while he was out with injury? It's hard to quantify, but suffice it to say, more than all the elephant poo at the Pittsburgh Zoo. The guy is simply explosive. Smiley got a look up close and personal at Harrison while he was the field for pre-game warm ups in Charlotte and reported that Harrison, J is scary in person. After Harrison’s punt block, the Panthers gave up and the fans left in droves. It was nothing but a good ole fashioned Pittsburgh party after that, just south of the Mason Dixon line.

For a team playing for nothing but pride, that started the season 2-6, they've been awfully impressive in the last few weeks. And I may be a fool in love with the Steelers (though many maintain I’m just a fool); I'm oddly hopeful heading into Sunday's re-match with the Ravens. McNair's got the stigmata and the jailbirds have already clinched the division. Maybe they’ll come in a little less edgey? Plus the Steelers are pissed about they way they got pounded flatter than hammered shit in Baltimore. Maybe, just maybe ...

Merry Jesus Day, Ray. Here's hoping you get a Willie Parker cleat-mark on your chest for Christmas this year.

Dear Browns ...

Could we please play you every week? Love, Steelers

By Jody DiPerna

This whole season, I've had the eerie feeling that the trophy for Super Bowl XL was a mirage, no matter how many times I drive by the Great Hall. It just feels like somehow, last year's miraculous run to and through the playoffs was a dream because this team has played so badly in every aspect of the game throughout this season. When special teams aren't awful, the offensive line forgets how to block; when the defense is stout, Roethlisberger’s throwing interceptions like it's his job; when the offense is clicking, there are those reeking special teams rearing their ugly heads again. It's enough to make a girl develop trichtillomania.

In short, the Cleveland Browns couldn't arrive at Heinz Field soon enough. I don't know if the Browns are that bad, or if the Steelers are really that good, but we did at least see flashes of the greatness underneath the black and gold. And a whole lot of the putridity in Cleveland brown and orange.

On a night when it was so cold on the North Side that I was chased into the warmth of the neighborhood bar for beer and a burger, the Steelers were back to playing like the Steelers. And the Browns looked like the Browns under Butch Davis. Or Chris Palmer.

The fact that the wideouts looked like the 1997 version of the Cleveland wideouts didn't help out their young and promising quarterback, Derek Anderson. Don’t you just love watching Dennis Northcutt at Heinz Field? It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

When you consider that the Steelers' most gifted player, Troy Polamalu, was nursing an injury and doing his best Duce Staley imitation, it makes the overwhelming win even more amazing. But, hey, you can always count on PuPu to make a big play for the team when they need him. With Duce gone, the whole team is challenged to find a replacement for him as a sideline gear model -- somebody had to step up! The Steelers should ask Reebok, the maker of your fine sideline apparel, to pick up at least part of Duce’s $1.5 million tab, considering the yeoman work he did to advertise their product.

Even with all the missteps, mistakes and missed opportunities of the 2006 season, when this squad plays well, they can beat any team in the league. I'm wondering what kind of voodoo somebody performed on Jeff Hartings' knees because he and Marvel Smith played great games. And Alan Faneca put on a clinic. "How to Play Guard in the NFL 101" by Big Red. He was simply spectacular. Is it any wonder then, that Parker set a new club record for most yards gained on the ground in one game?

Actually, I'm probably overestimating the strength of the Steelers line, given the opposition. But they played better than they've played in a while and good teams are supposed to win games like this.

In the meantime, young master Roethlisberger looked very much like the franchise quarterback that he is, hitting Holmes, Nate Washington and even getting Jerame Tuman into the act. Give that kid a little time and, you know if it's not a week right after he's coming out of surgery or something, Ben's pretty good. I think he's got a future.

God strike me dead by falling hams for saying this, but I almost wish the game had been called by the Monday night crew, so that we could have listened to old Norman Theisman himself talk about how well Santonio Holmes catches with his hands. I realize it’s a valid point, but every time Theisman says it, it makes him sound even stupider, if that's possible. That's always fun.

But the point is, Holmes was reaching out in traffic, grabbing the ball away from his body and pulling it in. I can't imagine just how much that must have hurt on a night so bitterly cold. The ball's so hard, it hurts just to make a fist and there he is pulling in a frozen rock tossed at laser speed by Ben. It's a wonderful sign for the future. Sure, he had two drops - one that he misjudged down the middle and another drop in the endzone. But you can see that he's going to be a very good wide out. So you can stop holding your breath that he's the second coming of Troy Edwards. (I'm still not sold on Holmes as the kick returner and hopefully Willie Reid will fill that role if his freaking foot ever heals. Can't somebody get that kid a calcium supplement or something?)

In a very under-celebrated note, this victory evened the series between the Browns and the Steelers over the course of history. After 56 years of beating each other up in 110 games, the record is even at 55-55. Phew. Glad we got that out of the way. Anybody want to bet me on which team has a better record over the next ten years? I'm laying $20 that it's the Steelers.

You know what? Enough of that Steelers-Browns rivalry stuff. 'Tis the season and all that. So I'm making a formal announcement: I love the Browns. I hope I get some Cleveland shwag for Christmas. And I wish the Steelers played them every week.

Steelers forget to pack O Line

Nose hair clippers can't tackle.

by Jody DiPerna

Much has been said about the blow delivered to Ben Roethlisberger by Ravens’ linebacker Bart Scott near the end of Sunday’s first half. Roethlisberger's just lucky that it wasn't Ray Lewis who hit him. So magnificent is Ray, so inspirational, so intense, so otherwordly in his prowess on the football field, he so eclipses the gifts of all NFL players, those who came before and those who will come after, that had #52 come free instead of #57, Ben might have been vaporized. Or worse. If Roethlisberger thinks that getting hit by Bart Scott hurt worse than his run in with that little old lady in her Impala, that's nothing compared to having Lewis drive a shiv into his mid-section.

All of which makes me wonder why the Steelers chose to travel to Baltimore (a mere 250 miles door to door) without their offensive line and blocking packages. I get paid in beer and pretzels by Mr. and Ms. Dish and even I could afford to spend the weekend in New York.

By the way, if you're ever in the Big Apple looking for a place to watch the Steelers, go to Scruffy Duffy's on 8th Avenue (between 46th and 47th) in Hell's Kitchen. Thanks to Tucker and Frank (friends of Dish, the two goons to the left of me in the photo) for telling me about the place and meeting me there.

The place is just like home, only better, somehow. I met some wonderful folks, namely Harold who, in addition to having an approachable, open mien, was sporting a replica Dan Kreider jersey, so I was drawn to Harold like a moth to a flame. Throughout, the mood was intense and oddly festive, despite the sound ass kicking administered by the Ravens. When Bart Scott delivered that murderous blow (he is a Raven, after all), the crowd started chanting Charlie Batch's name, using that rhythm that Yankees' fans used to torment Red Sox fans by chanting "19-18." "Char-Lie Ba-Atch, bah-bah-bah-bah-bah. Char-Lie Ba-Atch!" Being among friends, or at least compatriots, took part of the sting out of the worst loss since the Steelers were waxed 51-0 by the Cleveland Browns in 1989.

My point is that if I can afford a few beers in Manhattan, the Rooney family probably doesn't have to cut corners by leaving entire units of their squad back here in Pittsburgh. And if they're going to do that, why not leave the special teams coverage unit behind, as they've been nonexistent for several seasons anyway.

Either those were pod people out there masquerading as an NFL offensive line or the Steelers have very big troubles brewing. The O Line, like the special teams, has been a problem all season. On several occasions, the tackles went inside with their blocks, allowing Ravens to roam free off the corners and into the backfield with being even sniffed. Is that the fault of Marvel Smith or Max Starks? Or Jeff Hartings, who calls the blocking schemes? And where to Najeh Davenport and Willie Parker, who are supposed to help with blocking, fit into this. Is this Russ Grimm's fault? Players need to make plays, but at the same time, the old hog has to share at least some of the blame. If the problem is merely the personnel (and it is on the right side), then sit down Starks and Simmons to see what Chris Kemoeatu can do at guard and Willie Colon or Trai Essex can do at tackle.

If you owned something so valuable that it meant a wonderful future for your family, would you put it at risk? Let's say it's a Faberge Egg. Let's just pretend that you have one of those, right? And its worth kaboodles of money. It means that your family will be set for a long time, assuming you don't break it or lose it or throw it away. So, do you just leave it lying on the floor in the kitchen with some gravy dolloped on it so the family dog can chew on it? Do you drive around in your 10-year-old, barely-passed-inspection- Saturn with the egg sitting in your cup holder at rush hour traffic on killer Route 65? Do you use it to toss around with the kids because you just can't take the time to find the NERF? Well, of course you don't. It's valuable -- it's important.

Allowing Simmons, Starks and a broken down Hartings to block in front of Ben Roethlisberger is the equivalent of backing over that Fabrege Egg with your Ford Truck a few hundred times. You have to wonder if or when the hits are going to start taking their toll. Many quarterbacks become gunshy and despite the fact that Roethlisberger seems able (emotionally at least) to withstand the weekly onslaught, a gunshy QB you do not want under center. If Ben starts thinking about getting hit instead of hitting the open man, well, I don’t even want to talk about it.

I'm going to say something here that I find very painful: that Ravens team is good. In addition to the persistent pressure, that defense played so complete a game that the Steelers made just one trip into the red zone. Their offense is better than I realized, particularly the line. Admittedly, Joey Porter has never had a good game against Jonathan Ogden, not even last season when Ogden had an off year. This time, Ogden was at full strength and swatted Porter away like he was an annoying gnat. When there was any pressure on McNair, it came a second too late. There were huge holes for he of the mincing steps and orange jump suits. I don't think Jamal Lewis is all that good at this point in his career, but with an O Line that opens up holes twice the size of John Goodman's ass, well, any broken down ex-con can hit them. In short, the defense let the Steelers down as much as the offense did. It’s nothing new - they've had problems getting pressure on opposing quarterbacks all year.

On both sides of the ball, the problems are right there in the trenches, which is a worse situation than anybody realized or cared to admit. Winning the battle up front has always been key to winning period. How did the season get to this point?

It's been a crazy year all over the NFL. A month ago, the Bengals defense had dropped to dead last after the Chargers hung up 42 points on them in one half and the Saints rolled up more than 500 yards in offense. Since then, though, they've been lights out, stringing together eight shut out quarters. How does a defense go from that bad to that good seemingly overnight? The same way that the Steelers go from sharks to chum in the NFL waters in one off-season. You can't explain it but you can't deny it either.

I don't know what can be done to salvage any part of 2006 but getting through these last five games Ben Roethlisberger upright would be a good start. Thank god he'll have Walter Young as a target on Sunday and not that Quincy Morgan guy. And you were worried.

Aside: Caterer Cynthia Petno will be providing meal recipes tailored to soothing Steelers fans. It shall be called "Pass Over" and will include dishes such as "Fumble Flambe" and "Interception Intermezzo." For real. Check back soon.

It's fun to beat the Browns

No matter how lousy we played.

by Jody DiPerna

On Sunday, I thought we were going to have to break out the crash cart at Dish HQ. Clear! Katie was crying; Mr. Dish was swearing, fretting and smoking; Dad of Mr. Dish was watching the radio (I'm not kidding, he couldn't bring himself to watch the final seconds, so he stared at the radio). I was rocking and muttering like one of Robin Williams' patients in "Awakenings." Just call me Leonard.

When it was all over, we collapsed for a while and then I settled in to listen to every talking head in Pittsburgh from Sally Wiggin to Ellis Cannon talk about how badly Ben Roethlisberger played in the first three quarters of Sundays game. I hate to be a nitpicker, but didn't anybody notice that the entire offensive unit was terrible?

Simply put, the first half offensive stats are rotten. They amassed three first downs on offense. Three. They were zero for three on third down conversions. They rolled up whopping 66 yards (30 of those rushing yards) against a defense that gives up on average 327.7 yards per game and was ranked 30^th against the rush coming in to Sunday.

The offensive line gave Willie no room to run. The receivers dropped balls. (Pin the first pick on young master Roethlisberger - the pass was way too high – but as my buddy Smiley pointed out, if Santonio Holmes lets that just sail over his head, it lands safely out of bounds, instead of in the arms of Daven Holly who raced 57 yards for the endzone.) The point is -- the whole offense was out of sync for much of the game.

It's hard to say this, but the offensive line seems to run block better with Chukky Okobi (and Chris Kemoeatu) in there and Jeff Hartings (and Kendall Simmons) on the sideline. It may really be time for Hartings to hang them up because, he was pretty much taken out of the play right after every snap. He’s been playing on gristle and sheer determination for three seasons now, which is very impressive and commendable, but I don’t know if he can overcome his physical limitations anymore. I’ll be sad to see Hartings go because he's performed so well for the Steelers and seems to be a great guy, but hey, ain't none of us getting any younger.

As to the defense, you can’t say much else beside Troy Polamalu. Sure, James Farrior had a good day, as did my man, Snacks Hampton, but PuPu is just a freak of nature. He simply happens. He'll be completely out of a play (I mean completely out of the shot on TV) and then he just appears, making a game saving tackle. This happens repeatedly. There just aren't enough superlatives in the lexicon to describe him and there is no way to explain that level of talent.

It’s quite simply inhuman. Or unhuman. Or superhuman. Or something that indicates he is not like the rest of us mere mortals; he makes even Joey Porter and Hines Ward look pedestrian.

With the Browns already up 7-0 in the 2nd quarter, Charlie Frye completed a pass to Braylon Edwards when the milk carton coverage man, Ike Taylor (have you seen my coverage skillz?), made a bad play on the ball and Edwards was gone with what he surely thought was a touchdown. Somehow, someway, PuPu tracked him down and saved a touchdown. The Clowns settled for 3. If you don't think that's the game saving play, then you must be using the new math or something.

Not to mention Polamalu's fourth quarter heroics with the Steelers down by just three and about four minutes left in the game. He made every defensive play to force the Browns to go three and out: he sacked Frye on first down; he tackled Jason Wright for a two yard gain on second down with a little help from Casey Hampton; and on third down, he leapt higher than Nijinsky (I said Nijinsky!) to bat down Frye's pass.

It really is remarkable what he can do. There have been few defensive backs who can change the game the way that he can. I've never seen anything like his closing speed. Too bad he can't kick off and punt, too, because the special teams need a miracle. I'd pick the Steelers in their tilt with the Baltimore Jailbirds this weekend, if it just came down to the Steelers offense versus the Baltimore defense and conversely. Unfortunately, Bill Cowher will be forced to send his special teams units out there from time to time -- if the Steelers lose this, I guarantee the special teams will be a contributing factor in the loss.

As to Mr. Roethlisberger, despite the offense's miserable start, he never got down. He never really does because he knows, as he should, that he is the best chance for his team to win. In the span of just under 13 minutes, he led his team on three touchdown drives of 87 yards, 79 yards and 77 yards. (Way to help out there with field position, special teams!) On those three drives, Ben completed 18 of 29 passes and the last one, the game winner, was a real beauty, too. Some may call it lucky, but I think it was born out of preparation, talent and brains. With Roethlisberger scrambling around, Willie Parker had the presence of mind to find a little soft spot and just look back to his quarterback. That's all he needed to do for Ben to make the heads up play and Parker to trot untouched into the endzone for the go-ahead score.

>Now, Cleveland is a lovely city. I like it there very much. And I harbor less antipathy for the Browns than I did in years past because I think I still kinda feel sorry for them after the Modell family moved their franchise to Baltimore. When the NFL made good on it's promise and put a new Browns franchise in Cleveland, the lovely folks of Cleveland had to contend with such legendary coaches as, um, Chris Palmer and Butch Davis. (Okay, Palmer's hardly legendary, but Davis is -- he's a legendary a-hole.) It's almost enough to make you think, haven't Cleveland fans suffered enough?

And this week, just when they though their team might go from Arizona Cardinals dreadful to Minnesota Vikings inferior, the Steelers came rolling into town. The Steelers toy with the Browns like big kids do with little kids -- they let them play and let them score some points, but when it comes right down to it, they put the clamps on. Afterwards, Coach Cowher said that he didn't know if his team had dug themselves too deep of a hole (they did), but they keep fighting and that's a good thing. Is it more fun to beat the Browns 41-0 or 24-20? Who cares? It's fun to beat the Browns, no matter what the circumstances.

William Parker's swiftness is to be commended

Steelers newfound ability to hold onto ball also praiseworthy.

by Sports Editor Jody DiPerna

Willie Parker for President. Okay, maybe that’s just a little extreme, but Parker's candor and actions recommend him for a leadership post. Not to mention that he'd be better than the twiddledick either party will foist upon us in 2008.

After another disappointing loss, Parker said, in essence, that the team was too satisfied with their Super Bowl win and that lack of fire and drive was the cause of the abysmal 2006 season. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but just imagine if a politician spoke that frankly. What if, in 2004, John Kerry he had said, "Look, I know I’m a douchebag, but I’m way smarter than that guy and besides, my wife’s a hoot." It would have been so shockingly refreshing that it might have caused a landslide. Bob Casey could have beaten Rick Santorum by 38 points rather than 19 points last week had he been so forthright. "You gotta be kidding me. You’d rather have that guy?! C’mon, people."

But the politicians can learn an even more important lesson from Parker: shut up and put up. More important than Parker’s words were his actions on gameday: he did his best talking with his legs and put the whole team on his back in the second half. It’d be nice to have a leader really lead like that. "Lead with Speed: Willie in '08."

There are those who have suggested that the Steelers can’t win with a speed back like Parker. I think the most the great Jerome Bettis ever averaged was 4.0 or 4.2 per rush in a season; Parker’s averaging 4.6 this season. The problem isn’t Parker (or Davenport) so much as it has been the inconsistency of the offensive line and the play calls that result. But against the Saints, Ken Whissenhunt and Russ Grimm (who is responsible for halftime adjustments) saw something to exploit on the ground, despite the fact that Parker had only 26 yards on 10 carries in the first half. The Saints used a defensive set with three linebackers inside the tackle box; Grimm and Whissenhunt called runs that Parker could pop to the outside. Good teams close the deal after big plays, and the Steelers did that, with Parker scoring after both his big runs.

The Steelers did something else that good teams do (beside hold onto the football, that is): they made the Saints pay for every mistake. If they weren’t 2-6 coming into this game, it would have been glorious.

In the first quarter, seven plays after Brett Keisel recovered Terrance Copper's fumble, Roethlisberger hit Heath Miller all alone in the endzone. [And you know how I love when they involved Miller.] In the third quarter, after Larry Foote caused Reggie Bush's fumble, Roethlisberger hit Ced Wilson on the very next play for a 38 yard touchdown.

It’s funny what a win will do - the minutiae slips into the background. After a loss, we nitpick over every mistake, every misstep, every offsides or illegal formation call. Had the Steelers dropped this game, we’d be complaining about Max Starks’ poor performance (young Benjamin should take