Now and Then

 

The view from our seats before the game

It took 19 years and a couple of words to make it happen.

"We need to come back to a game," Sean told me in July.

After initial hesitation, our two-day, one-night trip to Pittsburgh became a reality.

We're back home now, after spending some 14-plus hours in my cousin's truck.

After countless jokes at Kris's friend, Danny, who's probably our friend now too.

After myriad one-liners from the stealthy Sean.

And after good meals, laughs, and one good football game.

I was up at 4 a.m. Thursday morning. No, that was not the game plan but I also have a cat (as if you didn't know).

We were out the door shortly before six and at Kris's house by seven.

By the way, the thermometer showed 33 degrees when I got out of bed.

I smiled at that. You see, the Pittsburgh Steelers were founded in ... yup ... 1933.

We were on the road at 7:11 a.m. and were in Scranton, PA before nine.

Oh, and in a Waffle House shortly after.

From there, it was a drive of interstates (81, 80, 99) and four-lane roads with traffic lights (U.S. 22) and then that combined with U.S. 30 and Interstate 376 as we entered the Steel City.

Finally, we checked into our hotel, which looked like it had been converted from a Ramada Inn of another generation. No matter, it was clean and comfortable.

Heading back into the Burgh, we went straight to Primanti Bros., the downtown bar and sandwich shop that has taken on a life of its own. It also now has multiple locations.

Kris said the pastrami was very good. Danny seemed pleased with his Pittsburger. Sean loved his Pittsburger and, once again, my Ragin Cajun chicken sandwich was fantastic. OK, service was slow but it didn't deter us.

That's the thing. I had a plan set in my mind. Up, leave Greenwich, head to Kris's, maybe hit Waffle House, check out the outlet center across the street from the hotel with a Steelers Pro Shop, then Primanti's, the park at Station Square, and go to the game.

The thing is it all worked. Like, so easily. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, yeah, after Primanti's, we walked around the Strip District for a few minutes. It was much quieter than it was in July because 1) it was a Thursday night and 2) it was getting chilly. Sadly, even though I was up to treat myself to something in the Strip, I just couldn't find that sweatshirt, jacket, jersey, or anything else. So it goes and I'm proud that I didn't waste money just because.

We drove to Station Square next, where we found parking with ease at a shockingly reasonable cost. Among the many things that were so wonderful about this experience was the way everyone took care of each other. There were no discussions of "who owed what." We just made it work and it appeared any debts got paid with virtually no discussion.

We parked and headed to our next mode of transportation: the Gateway Clipper fleet of boats. Remembering my 2004 game with the Warzoha's of Greenwich, I took copious notes as to how they did Steelers games. Taking a boat out of Station Square that docked at Acrisure Stadium a few minutes later was inspired.

That still works in 2023.

This also pleased Sean, who didn't know I had this trick up my sleeve until I mentioned it in passing.

I was so thrilled -- so, so thrilled -- to be among fellow Steelers fans. Haven't spent my entire life in the New York tri-state area, one deals with Giants and Jets fans and, sadly, Patriots fans. Then there are other fanbases, including the Steelers.

Last night, it was a sea of black and gold, with an occasional outlier.

Despite all plans having worked so far, there was still one last thing: the tickets. I wouldn't truly relax until we were inside the stadium.

Minutes after stepping off the boat, the ticker reading beeped with a positive welcome.

We were in.

This is literally what it's all about

Our seats were high above the end zone and, frankly, they were great. The game unfolded right in front of us and we were to settle in among so many grumpy (and eventually inebriated) fans who were there to bask in their collective religion on the gridiron below.

Oh, I had a beverage as well, as Danny and I each bought a round of IC Light but neither one of us felt any ill effects.

I should also mention that all survived the early November chill, using multiple layers. It was cold, sure, but we've experienced much worse.

Kenny Pickett is rolling out

The game was outstanding. It was low-scoring, tense, penalty-filled. The Steelers looked sharp early but Tennessee took a 13-10 lead at halftime and 16-13 after three quarters.

And I knew what was coming. I kept warning Sean.

"Renegade is coming," I said. "It feels like a good time for it."

"You keep saying that," he said.

But I knew. It was early in the fourth quarter and the Pittsburgh defense was back on the field.

"Watch the screen," I said, looking at the scoreboard. "Watch. It's going to fade out."

The crowd of 65,969 knew it too.

But, at first, just a static shot of the field stayed on the screen.

And then ... fade to black.

It was time for "Renegade," the song by Styx that has become a staple of Steelers football for over 20 years.

Oh Mama, I'm in fear for my life

From the long arm of the law

Lawman has put an end to my running

And I'm so far from my home

The words rang out with a heartbeat as a sea of yellow towels began to dance in unison. It was getting louder.

Oh Mama, I can hear you a-cryin'

You're so scared and all alone

Hangman is comin' down from the gallows

And I don't have very long 

YEAH!

The music continued and the throng began waving their Terrible Towels. While my Towel was at my side, and Sean had one of his own (a gift from his dad), neither one of us waved them because we both wanted to bask in the spectacle. The roar was intense. Surely the defense would make a big play.

Here we go, Steelers, here we go!

Then Will Levis, who played his high school ball at Xavier of Middletown, CT, fired a 21-yard pass.

"Renegade," my fanny.

I sat down, in Section 523, Row T, Seat 21, and cast my gaze at the field, with a certain hopelessness. It was the same feeling I had at my first World Series game, back in 1998, as the Yankees were down 5-2 to the San Diego Padres. The Bombers then scored seven runs to win.

In this case, as I was thinking we should start walking back towards the entrance to get the boat back to the parking lot, Kenny Pickett and the Steelers marched 92 yards over 11 plays.

The drive was keyed by a Pickett to Diontae Johnson 32-yard reception on third-and-six at the Steelers' 45.

Now, they were in field goal range. But, nah, go get this done.

Still, the crowd (me) grumbled about penalties and ineffective play-calling.

Then Pickett shut us all up, hitting Johnson for a three-yard touchdown. It was 20-16 Steelers. 

We moved to the other side of the stadium, placing ourselves in a position to dash to the boat.

It wasn't easy, and much credit goes to Levis for making things tense, but the Steelers got a later interception to ice the game.

In the meantime, a woman caught my eye and asked me for a favor. She asked me to go to section 145 and find her husband as well as her obviously drunk and sick friend's husband.

I laughed and walked away. Sure, I'll just yell out their names and they'll come a-running.

I rolled my eyes, looked back at her, and said I couldn't find them. I mean, what?

She walked by me.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered. 

I laughed harder.

Steelers Nation fills in on the boat following the win

We caught the boat back to the car and, despite an obnoxiously lengthy delay at a traffic light, were back at the hotel within a half-hour of returning to the car.

Sean and I turned our hotel light out after 1 a.m.

Hours later, I was on the phone with Tony Savino from the lobby of the hotel to do my Friday morning sports chat.

Then we pulled ourselves together and had breakfast (Waffle House, of course).

Then we did a quick local shopping run before going back into Pittsburgh to take a ride up the Duquesne Incline.

Then, sadly, we began the grinding drive home.

Lori, Kris's wife, was waiting when we walked in with pizza.

Finally, Sean and I returned to Greenwich. Sean has work to do at WGCH tomorrow morning and I have two football games to call.

But let this be the first of many trips like this.

I can't possibly thank Sean, Kris, and Danny enough. Each one became deeper Steelers fans this week as a result of this. None are likely as "die-hard" as I am but each had their level of rooting interest. Sean made it quite clear that he was annoyed when the Steelers were losing and how much seeing them win in person was important. 

I was resigned to understanding that it's sports: sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. I have zero control.

But I sit here simply overwhelmed with gratitude for this experience.

This is where I was -- in a car on I-80 West in Pennsylvania -- when I put an AirPod in my ear to listen to the last song by The Beatles for the first time. Thus, the name of this post.

And I love the song. I don't care how many ways critics want to twist it. I don't care how you compare it to "Free as a Bird" or any other song for that matter. I love it.

I know it's true

It's all because of you

And if I make it through

It's all because of you

Thank you, lads.

Including the three that led me back to Pittsburgh. 

Or, should I say, that I was allowed to guide to Pittsburgh.

I truly hope this picture reflects the joy that this trip produced

I'm forever indebted to each of them. Each one isn't going to show their emotions, and I did a decent job of hiding mine. But through the laughs, cheers, and Danny's thanking me, I got it.

What an experience. 

Truly.

Thank yinz, Steelers Nation. 

You outdid yourselves.

We'll do it again soon.

Humbly, I now go to bed.

Exhausted and exhilarated.

With music -- sweet sounds -- ringing in my ears.