Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Seriously Chapter 59: Steeler Shame & The Game
For 23 years, I've been turning over tables and pissing in people's bowls of Wheaties, from the first day I ever got into this stupid, stinking sports news business. But not until today had I ever been the recipient of a threatening phone call. Now I'm a normal guy and I can get a little mean. And I've been threatened before and I've been threatening. But never have I been directly threatened (I know that makes sense because I know how you all know me.)
It like this, y'all - Seriously just got off the phone with the son of Steeler's owner, Dan Rooney. His name is Cliff Rooney but I call him Zipper because I've known the little smart-ass since he was a fat little kid. Well now, apparently, all he's got is a fat little mouth. Zipper's threatening death to my face (over the phone) because he heard I had the "galling temerity" to go public with my disgust over the fact that his stupid Steelers were starting Ben Roethlisberger this Sunday, six days after his 4th concussion at the age of 28. "For shame," Zipper snarled at me. "How dare you bite the blessed hand that's been feeding you!!? How dare you!!?" I said, "Fuck you, Zipper. On the sideline Sunday, your man was tweety-bird goofy like he'd been bopped by a passing truck." Now I rarely use four letter words but this chump was pissing me off. I said, "If that was your kid and he had gotten his 4th concussion, would you send him out there next week for a division game against the Baltimore Ravens?" Zipper said nothing and hung up on me. So I can only guess from that exchange I haven't made any new friends over at the Pittsburgh Steelers. But, guess what, America? It's not about me and it's not about the Steelers, they can burn and rot in hell. It's about Big Ben. I've gone from wanting him dead to being worried about the big lug. Anyway, I gotta go. Every time I think I have a conscience, it makes me want to run.
Roger Goodell, where are you?