I know, I know, this is belated because the Superbowl was two days ago. Then again, it's my blog, so I get to set the timeline.
I watched the Superbowl from a friend's place in Adam's Morgan, where everyone but said friend was rooting for the Cardinals. Why, you ask? Well, certainly not because any of us are from Arizona. For me, at least, an admittedly confused & infrequent football watcher, the Steelers' presence in the game automatically meant I'd be rooting for the other team, whoever they might be.
I've said it before & I'll say it again: To be a Clevelander watching a Steelers v. Ravens game, deciding who to root for is like deciding whether you'd prefer to die by drowning or by house fire. I knew from the moment that game began that I didn't care who the other team heading to the Superbowl was - they'd be getting the wave of my big foam finger.
So come Sunday, the Steelers won another Superbowl. With the help of Ben Roethlisberger, a bonafide Ohioan traitor. And I, who don't know much about football but know enough to hate the Steelers, mourned yet another game that somehow felt like yet another loss for us Clevelanders (& the 'burbs count, so shove it). I may not be a sports mega-aficionado, but I'm fan enough to know that I love my home city, no matter our level of suckage. Indians, Cavs, Buckeyes &, yes, the Browns - I love 'em all, & win or lose (& LeBron James or not, when it comes to the Cavs), I'll root for 'em every time, & just as surely, I'll root against the Steelers. I said it in 2007 & I'll say it again: Keep your chin up, Cleveland. Some day our day will come. And until then, I'll happily smother a Yinzer or two with their Terrible Towel!