This is the time of year that really leaves me feeling melancholy and itchy. The sun is out. The temperature is hovering between ‘exceedingly pleasant’ and ‘Holy SHIT is it hot’. I just spent some days off with my wife. Life, it would seem, could not possibly get any sweeter. Yet I am as despondent as a Cure fan. Something is missing and that something is Professional Tackle Football. You are missing it to, friend. You are surfing the ‘Net looking for any nugget of news about the Pittsburgh Steelers. Your Pittsburgh Steelers! You’re Jonesin’ for anything you can get. Well come on in and introduce yourself. The meeting is about to begin!
I fool myself every year at the season’s end. The inner dialog begins: “Now I can get to that drywall project that I started 18 months ago” or “I’m going to get back to reading more books” or “Maybe the dog will act less flakey now that I’m not screaming randomly at the television on Monday nights, some Thursday Nights, all day Sunday, and even Thanksgiving. Because, come on, who the hell in their right mind should be yelling and screaming on Thanksgiving”. Yes, it’s a dark and smelly place in my brain. It never happens though….. I had myself convinced that after last season’s nauseating first round loss to Denver that I could really pull it off this year. This off season was really going to be an offseason for me. Smooth, painted walls, fine literature, and a calm canine were all within my reach. The illusion lasted three days. Then came the sweats and the fine muscle twitches. The cravings and hallucinations kicked in Wednesday morning following the loss. Mood swings, headache, diarrhea by Friday afternoon. OK, some of that might have been the flu but I’m sure the majority of the symptoms came from Steelers Withdrawal Syndrome. There were some short term fixes available to me. There were, after all, two more rounds of the playoffs to watch AND the Super Bowl. But those things alone, without the Steelers, is like switching to NyQuil when you are used to drinking Jagermeister. Ok, poor example but you get my drift. There’s no ready made ‘Trainspotting Approved’ cure that I can Google.
In my abusive relationship with the Steelers offseason even bad news is news I’ll take. Just please, please keep talking! Hines and Farrior are done. “Ouch. What else do you got?” Mendenhall, Starks, and Hampton are badly injured. “Wow! That sucks. Tell me more.” The Wallace Situation is getting nowhere. “AHHRRGHHH! Gimmie. Gimmie. Gimmie. I need. I need. I need.” It’s a problem, I know. The disease knows no boundaries. It afflicts equally from little hacks like me trying to work out my frustrations at your expense, to the heavy hitters of the big boy networks scrambling for stories. Right now The NFL website has four stories about the supplemental draft for your pleasure. They’re hurting too. They are even considering pulling the stake from Al Davis’s heart and unleashing his insane demonic wrath upon the zombie Pete Rozelle in an undead battle over moving the Raiders back to Los Angeles. Hey. I’d watch that! Sure beats sanding drywall.
Be strong and follow my silly ass on Twitter @davebuzard1