Aw Hell
I’m sure other teams do this, too, but since I only follow the Steelers, I’m not sure.
Dang!
Pittsburgh, and here I refer especially to one “Big” Ben Roethlisberger, managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory yesterday at the dainty hands of the so-called “Indianapolis” Colts, whose departure from Baltimore in the dead of night some years ago still rankles, but none the moreso than when they manage to win in Pittsburgh for the first time in something like forty years, even though the Black n’ Gold dominated statistically for pretty much the whole game except at the end of the first half and three minutes in the fourth quarter that made all the difference, both instances precipitated by an ill-advised—or, at least, poorly executed, throw by the Steelers’ quarterback.
A couple lucky plays on the Colts’ part really characterized the afternoon. The first one, which resulted in a touchdown, saw Pittsburgh cornerback Ike Taylor deflect a pass right into the waiting arms of Indianapolis receiver Reggie Wayne for a totally fluky touchdown; on another play, the normally reliable Troy Polamalu dropped an easy interception that would likely have resulted in pick six going the other way.
I’m probably partly to blame, too; right before Roethslisberger essentially threw the game away, I left my post in front of the TV to head out to Mimi’s soccer game; had I stayed put with a fresh bottle of Rolling Rock, no doubt the Steelers would have prevailed.
So, there I was, riding my bike down the street, listening to the final minutes of the contest on the radio, swearing out loud as Manning drove his team down a short field for the winning score; I was so mad I managed to register 32 miles per hour on the “This is Your Speed” sign on 31st Avenue, a good 5 or 6 miles faster than usual.
I broke the speed limit but them Stillers broke my heart.
Dang!
Pittsburgh, and here I refer especially to one “Big” Ben Roethlisberger, managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory yesterday at the dainty hands of the so-called “Indianapolis” Colts, whose departure from Baltimore in the dead of night some years ago still rankles, but none the moreso than when they manage to win in Pittsburgh for the first time in something like forty years, even though the Black n’ Gold dominated statistically for pretty much the whole game except at the end of the first half and three minutes in the fourth quarter that made all the difference, both instances precipitated by an ill-advised—or, at least, poorly executed, throw by the Steelers’ quarterback.
A couple lucky plays on the Colts’ part really characterized the afternoon. The first one, which resulted in a touchdown, saw Pittsburgh cornerback Ike Taylor deflect a pass right into the waiting arms of Indianapolis receiver Reggie Wayne for a totally fluky touchdown; on another play, the normally reliable Troy Polamalu dropped an easy interception that would likely have resulted in pick six going the other way.
I’m probably partly to blame, too; right before Roethslisberger essentially threw the game away, I left my post in front of the TV to head out to Mimi’s soccer game; had I stayed put with a fresh bottle of Rolling Rock, no doubt the Steelers would have prevailed.
So, there I was, riding my bike down the street, listening to the final minutes of the contest on the radio, swearing out loud as Manning drove his team down a short field for the winning score; I was so mad I managed to register 32 miles per hour on the “This is Your Speed” sign on 31st Avenue, a good 5 or 6 miles faster than usual.
I broke the speed limit but them Stillers broke my heart.
posted by Professor Dave at 4:51 PM
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