I watched the playoff football game today, Steelers vs. Jets. Well, I watched until the phenomenal Steelers played like little girls against the Jets, but that was my fault, it seems. I stopped watching when the game went into overtime, and then the Steelers pulled it off and won by a field goal.
I loved the Steelers ever since Bernie introduced me to pro football in 1975 and the Steel Curtain. Mean Joe Greene, Jack Lambert, half-a-footed Viet Nam vet Rocky Bleir, and the exuberant quarterback Terry Bradshaw -- I knew how they all moved, and they were the best. I wanted them to win their fifth Superbowl perhaps more than any other fan, but what occurred that fateful year to turn me into a ill-omened fan, I don't know.
After that year, every Steeler game I watched, they lost. And that sounds like a fan trying to make up for her team's dismal performances, but it didn't just happen for the Steelers, but for every team I favored and watched. Hate Denver, cheer on whoever they were playing against? Denver always won. I stopped watching games with Denver. Give the other team a chance.
I didn't watch the Steelers at all this year, hoping to give them a chance of getting somewhere this season, and they CRUSHED their oppositions like eggshells. I thought it was safe to watch the playoffs.
Sorry, Rothlisberger. Sorry Cowher. When Bettis fumbled, and Rothlisberger threw an idiotic interception, I knew I had to find something else to do. I got out my laptop and started formatting my next Lulu Press offering, proofreading and putting Chapter fonts in order. When the game went into overtime, I stopped watching and even put my hands over my ears so as not to hear the announcers.
The Steelers pulled it out with a field goal in overtime. Please don't tell them I was watching for the main part of the game.