Zihuatanejo

"You remember the name of the town, don't you?"

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Location: Phoenix, Arizona

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Jumpin' on the Bus

I became a Pittsburgh Steelers fan this Christmas. Since I leapt on the bandwagon the Steelers have been on a roll. Coincidence?
Christmas day, after all the gifts were exchanged and food devoured, it was suggested that I go downstairs and watch some football on tv. I chose to take a nap on my new feather bed mattress top instead.

Quick aside: The feather bed is phenominal! It's like curling up on a giant breast.

I defended this choice by explaining that while I like football, enjoy watching it on tv, and have a great time when I go to games I'm not passionate about it. There are several reasons for this. First, I never played it. When I was a kid youth soccer and youth football seasons were at the same time. I was just good enough at soccer that I passed on football. My parents didn't have a problem with this because soccer has a significantly lower risk of injury. By the time I was in junior high and been cut from the soccer team I was too far behind the learning curve. Thus, my only football experience consists of thousands of touch football games played on asphault where a car bumper at the end of the street served as the goal line. I've never donned a set of pads. Unlike when I watch baseball, I don't have that point of reference where I can compare the play on the field to something I've done and appreciate the level at which professional atheletes perform. I don't feel like I know what's going through the QBs mind when he steps to the line of scrimmage because I've never tried to read a defense prior to a snap.

Second, I've never had a favorite team. I grew up in and still live in Arizona. All the blog space throughout the entire internet could not accurately convey the shittiness of the AZ Cardinals franchise. They are an embarrasment. Always have been; Always will be. I hope Bill Bidwell contracts cyphalis.

This is as far as I got in my explanation when my father interrupted. "I can help you with this. You're a Steelers fan."

Pop became a Steelers fan during the 70s when Bradshaw, Greene, Harris, and the rest of the Steel City boys were gaining dynasty status. My Mom's side of the family are Bills fans and they lost enough Super Bowls when I was growing up that I couldn't get attached. So, I'm embracing the Steelers. They've got history, a passionate fan base, they play a smack you in the face style of football I can get behind, they're hot right now, and black is slimming. Also, none of my friends are Steelers fans so trash will be talked. I'm in. For the long haul; even if it means preserving my Cowheresque stache' through the playoff run. I just watched their unexpected thrashing of the Colts and the fact that I cared which team won increased my enjoyment of the game by a factor of ten. Probably most importantly rooting for my old man's team means that we'll have more reasons to get together, talk, slap high-5s, and hug one another. Ain't nothin' wrong with that.

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