Super Bowl XL - In Pittsburgh
After the 2 hour drive from Cleveland, we arrived in Pittsburgh. We picked
up our deep-dish pizza at Larry and Carol's in Oakland and dessert at Dave
and Andy's. The plan was to watch the Steelers at my parents' house that
evening while simultaneously celebrating my mothers 55th birthday, on this
February 5th. It was Super Bowl Sunday, It was the 36th day of 2006. Number
36, Jerome Bettis, would likely be playing his last game, if only they'd
win.
On the Pennsylvania/Ohio turnpike, we'd passed many Steelers fans on their
way to Detroit from Pittsburgh to see the game in person. We knew this by
the terrible towels dangling from the car windows. Once in the 'burgh, the
atmosphere was as could be expected. About 75% of anyone you'd see on the
street was wearing Steelers garb. There was a nervous anticipation as the
hours ticked toward the big game. Even the stores were closing early.
The game was a nail-biter to the very end with momentum in the game
constantly shifting. The pressure on the players, coaches, and referees was
immense. Most of the players currently in their prime were born after the
Steelers won their first Super Bowl, back on January 12, 1975. The game had
become huge long before XL, and the tentativeness of the performers was
apparent. Even if it was just from the pressure the players put on
themselves after watching their football idols when they were kids (two of
which didn't show up for the event).
On this day with Mick Jagger, the Steelers were compared to Manchester
United, a football club in England with a huge national following. Having
experienced both cultures, I'd say that they do share a similar element in
the fanaticism, as well as the national following. A slight difference is
that Pittsburgh is more tightly focused in its own small town (though I've
never been to Manchester). After the victory, my parents' neighborhood,
McKees Rocks, was flipping out. My mother was lighting off bottle rockets
while the folks up the street were lighting mortar shells. My lady and I
drove down (dahn, if you're from there) Carson Street to the South Side
(Sath Side), listening to the radio as the Bus announced his retirement. On
the way, people were holding signs and yelling at cars.
Apparently, in the hours after the game, there was one of three places to
be: the South Side, Oakland, or Dick's Sporting Goods (for the t-shirts). We
drove past the crowds that yelled at those of us in cars as they walked from
Station Square toward the South Side. We parked around 6th Street and walked
the closed-to-traffic-section from the 10th Street Bridge to the Birmingham
Bridge. It was like a festival. High-fives were all around. The open
container law was liberal (too bad for the few drunks that broke glass).
There was a drummer and a bassist hammering out the riff to the "Here We
Go." song, interspersing it with hard punk. The local news cameras rolled,
the cops sat on their horses, and people congregated, cheered, and had a
good time. I bought a victory t-shirt just moments after the game. We saw
some nice tinfoil Lombardi throphies out and about. Everyone was in
euphoria.
We decided not to cross the Birmingham Bridge to Oakland, but instead made
our way all the way back to the car in order to drive back to the Rocks.
Though many were still streaming into the South Side, the cops were ready to
start the dispersal process. We went home and watched it on TV. The night
went off without incident except for a few a-holes (like a dude that punched
a horse). The college crowd got a bit rowdy in Oakland and overturned a car.
Also, some couches were sacrificed to the football gods in flames. However,
only 30 people were arrested. Not too bad when you consider victorious
fanatics from other cities. The parade is tomorrow.
up our deep-dish pizza at Larry and Carol's in Oakland and dessert at Dave
and Andy's. The plan was to watch the Steelers at my parents' house that
evening while simultaneously celebrating my mothers 55th birthday, on this
February 5th. It was Super Bowl Sunday, It was the 36th day of 2006. Number
36, Jerome Bettis, would likely be playing his last game, if only they'd
win.
On the Pennsylvania/Ohio turnpike, we'd passed many Steelers fans on their
way to Detroit from Pittsburgh to see the game in person. We knew this by
the terrible towels dangling from the car windows. Once in the 'burgh, the
atmosphere was as could be expected. About 75% of anyone you'd see on the
street was wearing Steelers garb. There was a nervous anticipation as the
hours ticked toward the big game. Even the stores were closing early.
The game was a nail-biter to the very end with momentum in the game
constantly shifting. The pressure on the players, coaches, and referees was
immense. Most of the players currently in their prime were born after the
Steelers won their first Super Bowl, back on January 12, 1975. The game had
become huge long before XL, and the tentativeness of the performers was
apparent. Even if it was just from the pressure the players put on
themselves after watching their football idols when they were kids (two of
which didn't show up for the event).
On this day with Mick Jagger, the Steelers were compared to Manchester
United, a football club in England with a huge national following. Having
experienced both cultures, I'd say that they do share a similar element in
the fanaticism, as well as the national following. A slight difference is
that Pittsburgh is more tightly focused in its own small town (though I've
never been to Manchester). After the victory, my parents' neighborhood,
McKees Rocks, was flipping out. My mother was lighting off bottle rockets
while the folks up the street were lighting mortar shells. My lady and I
drove down (dahn, if you're from there) Carson Street to the South Side
(Sath Side), listening to the radio as the Bus announced his retirement. On
the way, people were holding signs and yelling at cars.
Apparently, in the hours after the game, there was one of three places to
be: the South Side, Oakland, or Dick's Sporting Goods (for the t-shirts). We
drove past the crowds that yelled at those of us in cars as they walked from
Station Square toward the South Side. We parked around 6th Street and walked
the closed-to-traffic-section from the 10th Street Bridge to the Birmingham
Bridge. It was like a festival. High-fives were all around. The open
container law was liberal (too bad for the few drunks that broke glass).
There was a drummer and a bassist hammering out the riff to the "Here We
Go." song, interspersing it with hard punk. The local news cameras rolled,
the cops sat on their horses, and people congregated, cheered, and had a
good time. I bought a victory t-shirt just moments after the game. We saw
some nice tinfoil Lombardi throphies out and about. Everyone was in
euphoria.
We decided not to cross the Birmingham Bridge to Oakland, but instead made
our way all the way back to the car in order to drive back to the Rocks.
Though many were still streaming into the South Side, the cops were ready to
start the dispersal process. We went home and watched it on TV. The night
went off without incident except for a few a-holes (like a dude that punched
a horse). The college crowd got a bit rowdy in Oakland and overturned a car.
Also, some couches were sacrificed to the football gods in flames. However,
only 30 people were arrested. Not too bad when you consider victorious
fanatics from other cities. The parade is tomorrow.
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