Pittsburgh Dish

Mascot mayhem

Is Ice Burgh next?

On Wednesday, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review reported that one of the guys who dons the costume of the most hated mascot in sports history, the Pittsburgh Steelers' Steely McBeam, got popped for drunk driving on the
South Side.

And members of the Rooney family hung their heads in shame.

Let's not forget, though, that mascot misbehavior is par for the course in Pittsburgh professional sports history.

In 1985, Kevin Koch, a former Pirate Parrot, was implicated in cocaine dealing during Major League Baseball's drug trials. Koch, it seems, was the conduit by which the ol' Bolivian Marching Powder made its way into the
schnozzes of various and sundry Buccos.

Mr. Dish recalls an early 1980s visit the Parrot made to a Beaver County family restaurant. Now, he can't say for certain that it was Koch in the silly, green feathered suit, but whoever played the Parrot that day drove a
white Corvette.

Not quite a teen, Mr. Dish thought this odd. By 1985, it made plenty of sense.

In 1999, some kid who dressed up like a Pirate and annoyed Buccos fans at Three Rivers Stadium was dismissed from his job after being caught pantsless in the company of a young lady at a local swimming pool.

Reflecting on these mascot missteps, Mr. Dish makes the following predictions:

- After the Penguins win the Stanley Cup this June, Ice Burgh will be caught in flagrante delicto with three prostitutes and two polar bears at the Pittsburgh Zoo. He will also be implicated in a fish-smuggling ring.

- The Pitt Panther? Runs a chop shop in Homewood.

- The Robert Morris Colonial? Serial shoplifter.

- The Scottish Terrier Bill Cosby gave to Carnegie Mellon University? Starred in a 2006 skin flick with Belladonna and Rocco Siffredi.

- The Pirates secondary mascot, Cpt. Jolly Roger? You can probably guess on your own if you have any familiarity with how pirates are said to behave during those long, long months at sea.

Breaking News: Curtains for Steely McBeam

Steelers mascot arrested for DUI on the South Side. Read details here.

Mr. Dish will weigh in on the boozy bust later today.

Farewell, Myron

Cope dies

Pittsburgh cries

Myron Cope hasn't been well for quite some time. Over the past few years, he has suffered repeated bouts of pneumonia. Today he died.

But for 35 of his 79 years, Cope was alive in a way that many of us could only hope to be: He was the voice of the Pittsburgh Steelers. In this town, that's like being the voice of god.

For three or so hours on no fewer than 16 occasions, he was the guy who made local football fans mute the national television broadcasters (particularly Beasley Reese), turn up the radio and Yoi! along to, more often than not, victory. He had our attention. He was incisive. And he was absolutely hilarious.

Before his broadcasting career, which included a long-lived radio talk show, Cope was a sports journalist. He parlayed his local success into a gig at Sports Illustrated. His piece on Howard Cosell was ranked among the 50 best pieces published in the then 50-year history of the magazine. He and George Plimpton are the only two writers listed as "Special Contributors" on the magazine's masthead.

Three days after Dish returned, Chiodo's tavern in Homestead closed its doors. Three months after Mr. Dish returned to Pittsburgh from Connecticut, Cope announced his retirement. Two local legends gone? What has this place become? Bland Phoenix with considerably worse weather? Back to New Haven?

Idiosyncratic Pittsburgh, it turns out, remained, and so did Dish. But a little bit more of the old place was gone and today Cope is gone for good. While he was here, though, he was Pittsburgh.

For most of his adult life, Cope was more than that, though. He was also the father of a severely autistic son named Daniel. Cope was far from alone in loving and caring for a disabled child, but thanks to the Terrible Towel (Cope's 1975 invention) he was able to do a little more than most.

In 1996, Cope gave the rights to the towel to the Allegheny Valley School in Coraopolis. The school provides care for more than 900 people with mental retardation and physical disabilities, such as Daniel. Proceeds from towel sales have helped raise almost $1.1 million for the school.

You've earned your rest, Myron Sidney Kopelman. And thanks.

Former Post-Gazette writer Chico Harlan did one hell of a job capturing the essence of Cope during the Steelers' most recent Super Bowl run. If you cared about Cope, it's worth a read on this day particularly.

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.

Oldie but a goodie

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.

Crap, that was horrible

A brief recap of Monday’s Steelers “game”

Around 7:50 p.m. Mr. Dish and Dad of Dish (DoD) entered Heinz Field through Gate C, climbed the ramp to the seating area, paid too much for two Miller Lites (DoD’s preferred swill and, most importantly, the first available beverage found at the top of the ramp), and found a nice piece of wall to lean against as they waited for either the rain to stop (as if) or the game to begin.

Mr. Dish was hungry. Perhaps a li’l pizza? He told DoD to hold position while he foraged. And with that simple decision, Mr. Dish was plunged into a sulfurous hellpit he will not soon forget. Hovering over a condiment bar as he consumed his crappy pie, Mr. Dish noticed something. The concourses were becoming very, very crowded. No one, it seemed, was entering the seating bowl. (It seems that lightning in the area caused the National Football League qualms about getting 65,000 folks electrocuted or some such.)

Gridlock! Not a soul could move, though that didn’t stop various and sundry drunken Yinzers from trying. Buffeted about like a ship at sea during a perfect storm, Mr. Dish tried to hold position near a stairwell. Invective was muttered. Beer was spilled. Orneriness prevailed. Not even Steely McBeam could remedy the situation (not that the Steelers allow that thing anywhere near fans during games as he would be made into a walking urinal).

After an hour or so, which seemed eternal to Mr. Dish, the game began. He knew this only because he could see it transpire on television. Though the seating area was opened, the sheer volume of the crowd stranded concourse side made it such that getting to one’s seat was a Sisypehan task.

With four minutes left in the first quarter, Mr. Dish assumed his seat. He and DoD watched the remainder of the first half. Had another beer. And then left. Sadly, they missed the exciting, game-winning field goal which broke the 0-0 tie allowing the Steelers an inspiring 3-0 victory over the Miami Dolphins.

Christ, that sucked.

In other news:

Don’t even think about grocery shopping during a Steelers home game. The North Side Giant Eagle’s owner charges $20 to park in the store’s lot on Cedar Street.

Cheaper parking is available on North Avenue where some guy charges folks $2 to park on the street.

Don’t piss in front of Mr. Dish’s house, Steelers fans. He promises he will find your suburban home and defecate in your driveway.

Photos by Post-Gazette

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.

Steelers hotel rider a hoot

Mr. Rooney requires rubber

From the Smoking Gun:

Touring rock stars and politicians alike could learn a few things from the Pittsburgh Steelers. When the football team hits the road, hotel personnel are presented with a 17-page document outlining the NFL squad's demands, from chapel services to chicken wings.

A copy of the team's 2007 "hotel requirements" rider can be found below. Steelers brass stipulate that players are not permitted to have booze in their rooms, so the rider asks, "please do not stock the mini-bar with alcohol." Additionally, "Room service is not permitted to deliver alcohol to players' rooms." Apparently, if quarterback Ben Roethlisberger wants to imbibe, he'll have to do it at the local strip club.

However, he'll need to be back in his room before curfew, which will be accomplished with the assistance of hotel security, who "will need a MASTER KEY to open rooms for bed check." After 11 PM, players are not permitted to receive phone calls in their rooms, though they can continue to dial out. On the food front, the Steelers require lots and lots of it, from night of arrival "snacks" to a pre-game meal. And the ketchup on banquet tables "MUST BE HEINZ," due to the Steelers's affiliation with the Pittsburgh-based company (the team plays its home games in Heinz Field). While the hotel rider does not contain any brown M&M demands, the bedroom of team owner Dan Rooney "must have foam rubber pillows."

Read more.

Inside Steely McBeam

An exclusive interview with the Steelers' much-maligned new mascot

The other day, in the midst of composing yet another tirade against Steely McBeam, Dish received a curious email. It was from McBeam himself and the missive amounted to McBeam's defense of his humanity (or mascotity or whatever).

A correspondence grew between Dish and McBeam, who debuted his website yesterday, and this morning McBeam responded to a set of inquiries intended to uncover the man behind the mascot, or the mascot behind the man, or something.

Read on as McBeam lays his soul bare. ...

Mr. Dish: Of the disparaging remarks made about your name, character and appearance, which hurt most and why?

Mr. McBeam: Well, Mr. Dish, you try to block that stuff out and focus on the job you have to do. But I’d be lying if I said that the comments didn’t get to me a little bit. It’s the gay jokes that hurt the most, I think, the stuff about how I’m the lost member of the Village People, or that I’ve worked in the porn industry, which simply isn't true. One guy said, Is that a steel rod up your ass, or are you just happy to see me? I mean, that’s not particularly inspired, is it?

Listen, Mr. Dish, I’m married with two young kids, and nobody wants their kids to hear that sort of thing about Dad, you know? Plus last week a couple of jerks threw trash on my lawn, which is just unnecessary. Somebody even threw a used copy of "Ass-Worshipping Rim-Jobbers: Volume VIII." Okay. I have a porn name, I get it. But what if one of my kids had found that?

But the important thing is to not respond. Just keep smiling. Being the mascot of the Pittsburgh Steelers is a responsibility unlike that which is imposed upon any other mascot for any other team. You knew that the catcalls and the heckling would be a part of the job description. It takes a man of a certain temperament and disposition. In a lot of ways, the Rooneys are like Branch Rickey, and I’m like Jackie Robinson.

Mr. Dish: How many profoundly inebriated Steelers fans to you expect to endeavor to pummel you over the course of the season?

Mr. McBeam: Is there another kind of Steeler fan besides the profoundly inebriated one?

Ha! Just kidding, Mr. Dish. Seriously though. Many will endeavor; none will succeed. Steely McBeam can take care of himself. I’ve also been assigned a security detail.

Mr. Dish: If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be and why?

Mr. McBeam: The Black Walnut. Which was also my nickname in college.

Mr. Dish: Will the Steelers make greater use of the tight end as a pass receiver this year?

Mr. McBeam: I’d have to think so, yeah. Heath Miller is in year three. Last year he hit a bit of a sophomore slump, partly because the Steelers got behind early in a lot of games, forcing more of a downfield, catch-up, wide receiver-oriented type of offense. But the guy still had 5 TDs, so you know the ability is there. Tuman is getting older, but he’s been reliable as a second option. And you figure if they are going to invest a draft pick in Matt Spaeth, Arians and Tomlin must have something planned for the position.

I played tight end in high school, by the way. Did you know that? Third-team All-WPIAL.

Mr. Dish: Why do you exist?

Mr. McBeam: I’m the first of five children. My dad, Roger McBeam, was an Army GI in the Vietnam War. He met my mother, Pho-Chinh, in 1970 while stationed north of Saigon, explaining my yellow skin, which frankly had a lot of people puzzled. Following the war, he brought her home to America, but only after a five-year fight with U.S. and Vietnamese immigration officials. My mother lost her country, but gained her humanity.

The Steelers mascot

A nation asks, "WTF, dude?"

So, the naming contest is over and the profoundly useless Steelers mascot has been saddled with the moniker Steely McBeam. Pause for a minute. Reflect.

OK, Steely McBeam. That's the best that could be culled from 70,000 entries? Really? Like they just couldn't have settled on "Rusty" and called it a day?

The name makes sense, however, when one understands that the committee that chose the name consists exclusively of gay pornography aficionados.

Steely McBeam. What? Why not Huge McManlarge? Lance Manion? Dirk Diggler? Thrusty McHippump? Randy Johnson? Fisty?

What? This just in ...

Dish has been told that the Steelers ownership, the venerable Rooney family, intend to diversify the family business by, you guessed it, making the porn. And, naturally, Steely McBeam (never needs Viagra) will be the marquee "actor."

Our source has provided us with a list of upcoming titles in the RooneyPorn pipeline:

* Steely McBeam Does the AFC North
* The Devil in Mr. McBeam
* Steely McBeam Does the AFC North, Part II
* I Am Curious, Mr. McBeam
* Steely McBeam Does the AFC North, Part III
* Oiled McBeam
* Steely McBeam Does the AFC North, Part IV
* Inside Steely McBeam
* Steely McBeam Does the AFC North, Part V
* McBeam on Top
* The AFC North is Quite Tired of Being Done by Steely McBeam
* The Bottom of Steely McBeam
* OK, OK, the AFC North Concedes Steely McBeam's Dominance; or, The Brady Quinn is Quite Sore Story

Confidential to the Post-Gazette: Dish loves you more than most things (and Dish doesn't love much) and Dish loves the Steelers beyond reason, but leading today's paper with Steely McBeam? You're better than that.

Photo by the Post-Gazette

Steelers mascot to be named this afternoon

Dish has the inside poop

Drumroll, please ...

The idiotic-looking target of various and sundry projectiles hurled by drunkards peeved by a three-point fourth quarter defecit.

Runner up: The Goddamn Dumbest Thing Ever.

Fireplug disloyal

Go ahead, move to Green Bay or Oakland, jerk, see if we care

Photo by Frank Kownaki

In a move that stunned area observers, this fireplug attired itself in green and yellow paint, thereby renouncing its allegiance to the city of Pittsburgh and the municipality’s professional sports teams.

Reached for an interview Friday, the fireplug said, “I’ve never really had that herd mentality. I’ve always been my own fireplug. Hell, I don’t even much like supplying water to firefighters.”

“Growing up here,” the fireplug continued, “I’ve just gotten kind of sick of this whole cult of the Black and Gold thing. I mean, people, get a life. Plus, I’ve always had a soft spot for Brett Favre and I kind of fell in love with the A’s when Charlie Finley owned them. Remember when he had the team using orange baseballs? That was awesome.”

In response, an area dog wearing a Steelers bandana around its neck urinated on the fireplug. The fireplug then wept, as it realized it cannot move and will never see Lambeau Field.

The Dish on Dish: Jerome Bettis' Grille 36

We try not to insult an icon

Photos by Frank Kownacki. Click for larger views.

The waitress, wearing the Grille 36 lady waitstaff uniform—a yellow tank top covered by a black tube top, which, let Dish assure you, is a combo flattering to no one—approached the table on the patio outside Jerome Bettis' new restaurant. She proudly told Mr. and Mrs. Dish and their Dining companions that the beer list featured 32 options, "Just like the number 32 Jerome wore."

This kind of error surpasses the inexcusable; and, perhaps, rises to the blasphemous. Not only regarding Bettis, but His heroic predecessor, Franco Harris.

In any event, this snafu was a harbinger of things to come.

Sitting in the evening sun betwixt Heinz Field and PNC Park, Mr. and Mrs. Dish ordered draft beers to slake their thirst. They tasted as though something foul had fouled the tap lines. These beers were sent back.

Mrs. Dish ordered a bottle of Yuengeling. That turned out fine. Mr. Dish ordered an Iron City. Out came an I.C. Light, which was sent back. About 10 minutes later, the proper beer arrived. It was consumed. Another of its kind was ordered. Out came an I.C. Light. It was sent back. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Dinner was ordered. The Dishes and their dining chums were somewhat surprised to find that a side salad was not included in the price of a pasta dinner. Needing greens, Mr. Dish dropped another $3.95 on the foliage, as did Pregnant Lady Buddy of the Dishes. The salad, let it be said, was fine

Entrees arrive. Mr. Dish's rigatoni with spicy sausage looked appealing. Sadly, the sauce was too sweet and too plentiful. 'Twas almost like pasta soup. A nice touch, though, were the whole spinach leaves interspersed in the sauce and pasta. The nice touch was ruined when Mr. Dish realized the kitchen had not been instructed to wash the leafy green before serving. Mr. Dish does not like his spinach gritty.

Impregnating Chum of Dish had a plain 'ol burger topped with cheese and a portabella mushroom cap. The burger was quality, though overdone by medium rare standards. No big deal, though, as ICoD was the first to join the clean plate club at the table of four.

Mrs. Dish had the ribs. An awful lot of ribs. When Mrs. Dish ordered, she was somewhat surprised that the waitress asked her how she wanted them done, assuming there was only one way to have them: Cooked. The sauce, sadly, couldn't be tasted, though the ribs themselves were juicy and meaty; which is just the way one wants one's juicy meat.

PLBoD enjoyed her macaroni and cheese. Though a bit on the cold side when it reached table side, the creamy/crunchiness was pleasing to the palate. Mr.Dish would comment more on PLBoD's dish, but he hates cheese and wouldn't really look at the stuff, let alone taste it.

Complaints aside, Grille 36 has redeeming qualities aplenty. The view and the outdoor seating area make the trip to the river's edge worthwhile. Also, it seems that at the most basic level the quality of the food is more than adequate, meaning that once the kitchen and waitstaff work the kinks out, the overall appeal of the victuals may approach the charm of the atmosphere.

For now, Grille 36 is a pleasant enough place with decent enough food. It can, and likely will, be better. But even if relative perfection is never approached, the retired Mr. Bettis can rely on the patronage of customers such as the guy in his 50s, clad in a replica Bettis jersey (expecting a discount, perhaps?), lounging in a chair on the patio lost in a reverie of number 36's glory days.

Steelers unveil stupid mascot

Let's give the useless piece of crud a name

UPDATE 8/8/07: Go here.

For analysis go here.

Over the course of the team's 75-year history, the Pittsburgh Steelers have embodied class, family, respect, love of the city they call home, and frill-less football. It looks like those days are gone.

Today, in addition to unveiling some rather natty throwback uniforms, the Kings of the Confluence annouced they're giving Steelers fans what we've all been clamoring for, an effing mascot. Clearly modeled on Knickerbocker Russell's Big Nick (pictured right), the as-yet-unnamed mascot will spend the 2007 season scaring the crap out of youthful football fans and being pelted by various and sundry missles (including, but not limited to, half eaten hotdogs, snowballs, batteries, nacho cheese, Pepsi, pizza slices, and small children) hurled by intoxicated Steelers supporters.

The Steelers are, naturally, running some sort of let's-name-this-piece-of-crap contest. And, undoubtedly, the team braintrust will opt to go with something along the lines of Mr. Steel, Hunky Steelworker Mascot, or Bruce. Dish can live with that, we suppose. But to strike back at the Rooneys for thinking, even for a second, that this moronic costume will somehow engender greater loyalty, support, or excitement, Dish proposes we have our own little naming contest. Leave your suggestions in the comment section.

Dish will get you started:

• Mr. Stupid-looking Mascot

• Mr. No Longer Applicable Symbol of Pittsburgh

• Rooney's Folly

• Punching Bag

• Wojeck Zbowski of Munhall

• Glory Days

• Power Bottom

(Years ago, the Steelers had a mascot that looked like a twinkie in a fur coat. As a young man, Mr. Dish found the thing absolutely horrifying. In fact, he once pledged to himself that he'd rather kick Mike Merriweather in the nards and see what happens that interact with that foamy tower of nightmare fuel.)

Steelers announce new logo

Leaning toward the future

Editors note 4/13/07: Sorry. Or, rather, relax. Take a deep breath. This little item was one of Pittsburgh Dish's three April Fools Day pranks. The Rooneys would never do anything like this to Steelers fans. Thanks for popping in, though, and while you're here you might want to check out or Steelers coverage over the past two seasons. Our sports editor, Jody DiPerna, has done an excellent job breaking down the Super Bowl XL season and last year's disappointing 8-8 campaign. Don't forget to look for her return at the beginning of training camp. Read DiPerna's past coverage here.

The Pittsburgh Steelers have announced the first significant uniform change since adding the hypocycloid-rich U.S. Steel logo to the mix decades ago.

The new logo is meant to signify the city’s tendency to lean forward to the future in the wake of the crash of the steel industry.

Team president Arthur Rooney II said, “We thought long and hard about this change, but we are confident that the people of Pittsburgh and members of Steelers nation at large are more than capable of embracing change.”

Rooney said more radical changes were considered. That steel has not been manufactured in the city proper for decades led the team to think about changing the team name entirely. “It was thought that we could recognize Pittsburgh’s advances in medicine or technology. For example, in recognition of organ transplant pioneer Thomas Starzl and the extended diaspora of the region’s population, we though about going with the ‘Pittsburgh Transplanters.’”

Rooney said that thought was briefly given to changing the team colors. “With the city’s dedication to the environment in the form of constructing several ‘green’ buildings, it seemed reasonable to convert to green with blue, for the rivers, used as an accent. Sadly, though, we would have looked like the Seattle Seahawks.”

As regards the logo, Rooney added that, in another change, it will be displayed on both sides of the helmet.

Cowher Cwits

Skies open up and weep on the day of William Laird's departure from the finest professional football organization in Christendom.

Today's the day, people. You can feel the tension in the air. Bill Cowher is arriving from North Carolina to tell the Pittsburgh media that he'll be returning to North Carolina and has no intention of returning to Pittsburgh to fulfill the last year of his, by everyone's standards but his, lucrative contract to coach the local professional gridiron concern.

On the whole, Dish wishes Cowher well. One Super Bowl, lotsa playoff appearances, chin, spittle, glare. Not bad for a 15-year stint helming the guys whose helmets bear three hypocycloids (though only on one side). You have given us joy and pain, Mr. Cowher. We have given you devotion. The Rooneys have shown great faith in not canning your rump after three consecutive seasons of missing the playoffs and have given you millions upon millions of dollars. All in all, a pretty fair exchange.

You shall be missed, William Laird, and Dish wishes you the best of luck as you watch your youngest daughter play hoops and you grow fat and happy. Kiss the missus for us. Dish knows you're tired, pal and your head wasn't always in the game this season. Rest up, be well, and, whatever you do after the last year of the contract which you are refusing to honor expires, don't take Dan Snyder's money and coach the Redskins. You will be miserable, Dish promises you this. Dish sees you more as a Arizona Cardinals guy. Wouldn't it be fun to resurrect (maybe that's not the right word, considering the franchise was more or less stillborn) that moribund franchise?

Godspeed, William Laird Cowher. May your mustache continue to be robust and may you experience success (though less than whoever replaces you with the Steelers).

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.

Love for a Glove

How one woman's perseverance reunited a man with his clothing.

The situation was grim. Though the Steelers were giving a good and proper thrashing to the Browns that frigid Thursday night, not all was well in the city formerly justly known as the Steel City. As the wind whipped through the rapidly emptying mustard seats at Heinz Field, 24 year-old Jamie of Pittsburgh noticed something was amiss. Glancing into her purse, she saw the item that would sow confusion for days. A man's glove? "Now just what the hell is that doing there?" she thought.

As the days were Xed off the calendar, the confusion grew. Turning to the burgeoning, newfangled communications device, the Intratubes, she posted an ad on Craig's List. In essence, she told the public a glove was lost and would like to be found. She provided scant information on the nature of the glove or the section of the stadium in which she sat. Still, there was hope.

That night's attendance was shy of capacity, less than 60,000 souls braved the weather. Figuring that only 60 percent or so of the crowd was male, that leaves about 36,000 individuals boasting—give or take, considering the prospect of tragic chain saw accidents, hand-generating birth defects and the like—72,000 man hands.

Yes, it would be apt to employ the needle/haystack metaphor here. Dish shall not.

She heard no response from her cry into the web wilderness. She began speaking of the lost glove in her workplace. Paydirt!

Jamie, please tell the story:

"As I was telling my coworker about [Dish's] email [regarding the post on Craig's List], he told me that he lost a glove at the game and described the one he lost. It was the same glove. I met up with him to go home at the end of the night and somehow I ended up with his glove. Not as exciting as I had hoped, but still pretty funny that I took the time to post a craigslist ad and the glove belonged to someone I knew."

Huzzah! The glove is home! The hand is warm! An Aroundchristmastime miracle, indeed! No thanks to the lousy internet.

Jamie is a stellar example of Steeler fans' compassion for lost items. A source in customer relations at Heinz Field told Dish: "You'd be surprised what Steelers fans turn in. Hats, gloves, the usual. But people have brought in diamond rings and watches. We've even seen wads of cash."

So Browns fans, next time a Steelers fan pummels you at Heinz Field, he won't take your wallet and you'll probably get your Dirty Brown Towel back.

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 probab