What Else?
I’ve spent all day the last two days grading papers so as to clear the decks for tomorrow’s big game between my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers and the Couch Slouch’s Team of Destiny, the Arizona Cardinals.
As such, it’s a pitched battle between two relatively cheap American beers: my preferred longneck painted bottle Rolling Rock versus Norman Chad’s current fave, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Frankly, it should be no contest.
I’m predicting 34-10, Steelers, with Arizona only getting that final touchdown in garbage time after the game’s already been decided. I just don’t see Kurt Warner, ageless and amazing as he may be, having much success against Pittsburgh’s rush and secondary, even with the vaunted Larry Fitzgerald, no matter how many one-handed catches he makes.
I’ve plopped down about fifty bucks on a variety of silly proposition bets, like whether or not Heinz Ward will score a touchdown (yes, of course) and whether Roethlisberger will gain more than 1.5 yards rushing (sure, as he sneaks one in from the two-yard line for Pittsburgh’s third score.)
Most people hope it will be a good game; I could care less. All that matters to me is that the Black and Gold prevail; the more lopsided their victory, the better.
(Actually, that’s not ALL that matters; I want the Steelers to win convincingly. As satisfying as their victory of the Seahawks was in Superbowl XL, it remains tainted slightly by the officiating. In Seattle, at least, we’ll never hear the end of how the home team was gypped out of the victory in Detroit, even though, as I never tire of saying, “Championship teams overcome adversity, neener-neener, boo-boo.”)
I dare not jinx things by considering the possibility of a Steelers’ loss, but even if, by some weird set of circumstances and events they don’t come out on top, I’ll still count this season as one of my most favorite ever.
And no matter what, I’ll still be drinking Rolling Rock.
As such, it’s a pitched battle between two relatively cheap American beers: my preferred longneck painted bottle Rolling Rock versus Norman Chad’s current fave, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Frankly, it should be no contest.
I’m predicting 34-10, Steelers, with Arizona only getting that final touchdown in garbage time after the game’s already been decided. I just don’t see Kurt Warner, ageless and amazing as he may be, having much success against Pittsburgh’s rush and secondary, even with the vaunted Larry Fitzgerald, no matter how many one-handed catches he makes.
I’ve plopped down about fifty bucks on a variety of silly proposition bets, like whether or not Heinz Ward will score a touchdown (yes, of course) and whether Roethlisberger will gain more than 1.5 yards rushing (sure, as he sneaks one in from the two-yard line for Pittsburgh’s third score.)
Most people hope it will be a good game; I could care less. All that matters to me is that the Black and Gold prevail; the more lopsided their victory, the better.
(Actually, that’s not ALL that matters; I want the Steelers to win convincingly. As satisfying as their victory of the Seahawks was in Superbowl XL, it remains tainted slightly by the officiating. In Seattle, at least, we’ll never hear the end of how the home team was gypped out of the victory in Detroit, even though, as I never tire of saying, “Championship teams overcome adversity, neener-neener, boo-boo.”)
I dare not jinx things by considering the possibility of a Steelers’ loss, but even if, by some weird set of circumstances and events they don’t come out on top, I’ll still count this season as one of my most favorite ever.
And no matter what, I’ll still be drinking Rolling Rock.
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