Blitzberg
Let’s lighten the load. I’m a Steelers fan. I barely remember when Terry Bradshaw hooked up regularly with Lynn Swann and John Stallworth—but I remember. I barely remember Franco Harris, and Mean Joe Greene, and Rocky Bleier, and Jack Lambert, and Jack Ham, and Mel Blount, and Donnie Shell, and L. C. Greenwood—but I remember. I remember Mark Malone, too, and Bam Morris, and Merril Hoge, and Bubby Brister, and Louis Lipps, and Neil O’Donnell, and Barry Foster. I remember Kevin Greene and Greg Lloyd, and Carnell Lake, and Rod Woodson, and Yancy Thigpen, and Jason Gildon, and Chad Brown, and Levon Kirkland. I remember Kordell Stewart, and Amos Zereoue.
The Steelers seem to give me one or the other of the extremes of a spectrum: either they’re resoundingly dominant, combining two of the three key elements of a football team (offense, defense, and special teams) to superiority and holding strong the third; or they hold strong one of the three and let go the other two on the way to embarassment. Maybe you throw coaching in as a fourth element, because, really, the Monday night loss to the Colts comes down to two critical decisions.
Now, before I go on, let me state that I, as a rule, defy the armchair quarterbacks or loveseat coaches who proclaim that one questionable ruling or one wacky play made or broke the team on a given Sunday. By and large, like gravity, victory is a path-independent vector: you can take the final play of the game and put it somewhere in the first quarter, and though it’s apparent importance is less, it has just about as much bearing on the score. Sure, strategy varies with the score, usually, so a desperate play late in the game might not have been attempted early in the first half. But the point is that it takes 60 minutes on the game clock to win or lose.
Still, all that wisdom notwithstanding, there are two reasons the Steelers as an organization earned their loss tonight (last night for you finicky perfectionists):
- Bill Cowher’s decision to open the second half with an on-side kick was utter buffoonery. Yes, he’s got a reputation for pulling out some zany decisions, and as often as not they work well enough. Yes, that mojo usually works especially well on Monday nights. But they were down a respectable 16 to 7, and had had more success managing Peyton Manning than many other defenses this year. Losing the on-side kick gave Manning an extremely short field, and, well, it’s fucking Peyton Manning and company, Cowher. Give them a start at your 37 and you might as well be a good guy and lube your ass, ’cause you’re gonna get reamed.
- Fourth and four. You’ve got to know they’re gonna come with pressure. The screen or draw to Parker has been fairly successful when the Colts are coming with pressure. Don’t forget that the defense has been surprisingly stout in the face of a very big 80-yard TD pass on the Colts’ first play from scrimmage—I mean, the Colts didn’t do much else after that except move the ball some, kick a couple of field goals, and punt. Fourth and four is desperate, but if you’re going with desperation, don’t send your star quarterback with recovering knees on a draw. Holy shit, don’t do that.
In the end, a very solid Indianapolis Colts team—with fine play on offense and defense, and some highlightable special teams moments—took the day. I’m something more than frustrated but less the irate young man I’d have been a few years ago. I hope that doesn’t translate to sports nihilism, and I don’t think it does. To wit: next week, Pittsburgh hosts the Bengals, and I hope to some indeterminable aether that compels schools to teach ID that Pittsburgh is as pissed off as they should be.
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