THE STEELERS SUCK RIGHT NOW - PLAIN AND SIMPLE
By Charles Jay

Having watched the Pittsburgh Steelers in their Sunday night game against San Diego, I can come to no other conclusion but that this team has absolutely ZERO chance to repeat their Super Bowl run of 2005. Here was a situation where the team had come off two disappointing defeats, the last of which was laden with mistakes and turnovers, had an extra week to prepare, and put themselves on display before a national television audience against a quarterback who was a virtual rookie.

This was an opportune time for a “champion” to rise to the occasion, especially as Pittsburgh had won 16 of its last 19 games on the road. Not only was that NOT the case, it has to be considered one of the saddest moments in the recent history of the Pittsburgh franchise.

The performance in the second half of that game was such a complete non-effort, on the part of both the players and the coaching staff, that your venom after reading this piece should be directed not at me for writing it, but at them for precipitating it. San Diego receivers were left wide open for big gains. It seemed like every time a first down was needed, the Steelers could not put together enough to stop it. The Steelers could not make a play when it had to be made. And frankly, Ben Roethlisberger, who has accomplished nothing thus far, will have to go some length to demonstrate that he is not, when all is said and done, anything more than a slightly overrated signal-caller.

On Sunday night, it was Phillip Rivers who looked like the veteran, while Big Ben made the silly rookie errors. It’s not all Roethlisberger’s fault, I suppose. Bill Cowher’s coaching staff has simply not had an offensive game plan all year long. The whole thing was pitiful and, I dare say, pretty gutless. When it was time to show some character, these guys headed for the hills.

This team quit in the second half. Quit on themselves. Quit on each other. Quit on their city. Quit on their fans. That’s all there is to it.

Would things be a little different if there was a Jerome Bettis on the sideline to kick some asses? I don’t know; that’s just speculation. But if you can’t bring enough heat on a novice QB in October to make a difference when your backs are to the wall, you will be playing golf on Sunday mornings in January until the playoff games come on the tube. That’s the direction Cowher, Roethlisberger and the Pittsburgh Steelers are headed.

As of now, they’re finished.

By Charles Jay 

We’re in the midst of a whole new generation in sports. This is a time when star players not only make much more than coaches, but often have the power to get those coaches fired. They position themselves as bigger than the team, bigger than the game.

On the one hand, you can’t blame the players for being of the culture where they are very aware about marketing themselves, considering that when they negotiate agreements, they are doing so in an atmosphere where management is taking into account their individual accomplishments. Careers are short, and while the commercial opportunities are plentiful, the window for taking advantage of them is not very wide.

But what we have found ourselves in is the “Look At Me” era in professional sports - particularly unsavory as it appears in the team dynamic - where the athlete is bound and determined to call as much attention to himself as possible, mindful of the fact that it detracts from the team and often DIS-tracts it.

Maybe some of that self-absorption is understandable, using today’s standards, since in the NFL specifically, very little is guaranteed.

But Terrell Owens’ recent “near-death” experience has us staring into the abyss.

In an NFL Network interview that took place some weeks ago with the pre-eminent “Look At Me” philosopher - Deion “Prime Time” Sanders - Owens had the nerve to imply, in effect, that he is misunderstood, that people don’t know the “real Terrell Owens” and that there is a distinction between Terrell Owens and this persona called “T.O.”

The problem with it is that HE created T.O., WE didn’t. HE chose to affect the blurring of the line between the person and the persona, WE didn’t. HE cooked the meal. WE have been gullible enough to eat it.

T.O. may continue to cook the meal. But something tells me people may start sending it back to the kitchen with a little more regularity in the future.

When you:

– Run to the center of the Texas Stadium field after scoring a touchdown for the opposing team and plant the ball at the Cowboys’ star at the 50-yard line;

– Score a touchdown, then sign the ball, in the end zone, with a Sharpie, for the consumption of a national television audience;

– Intentionally use press opportunities to lash out with criticism of your QB’s (e.g., Jeff Garcia and Donovan McNabb);

– Hold yourself out of camp while under contract and conduct press conferences with your loudmouthed agent as a re-negotiation tool;

– Write the “tell-all” book that goes beyond that which is obligatory for any garden-variety prima donna,

………you are going out of your way to draw attention to yourself.
Now we can add to that litany:

– Taking an excess of pain killers, with your “publicist” making a frantic call to the police as if a tragedy is unfolding.

Because if that “publicist,” Kim Etheridge, is going to sit down in front of microphones at a press conference and assert that this was somehow blown out of proportion, then one must conclude that this episode and the way it was spun must have carried with it a certain degree of affectation.

It’s not unreasonable, when one examines the transcript of Etheridge’s call to 911, which was somewhat frantic.

If her point is that the incident was covered disproportionately in comparison to any other 911 emergency, she’s absolutely right. But of course, it involved an individual (whom she supports as part of his machinery) who, if given the choice, would prefer to be covered disproporionately in comparison to just about everything.

He’s fair game, and deserves to be, because he’s invited that kind of scrutiny. When you engage in this level of narcissism, you live by the camera, and you die by the camera. And that’s not a pun.

As I write this, I’m not really sure about Owens’ status for Sunday’s game in Nashville. But I could almost guarantee he’ll be there for the next week’s game with the Eagles.

I don’t care if his hand is falling off - it’s too good a photo op for him to miss.