Super Bowl Superstition Six Pack

Woh. That's all I can say about the wild, crazy Super Bowl spectacular last night. The Steelers aren't going to win any style points and if you hated them before that game, you probably really hate them now. (Sorry, Steelers West. Destiny still lives in the Steel City, despite Kurt Warner's claims otherwise. Don't bet against Steelers D. Ever.)

But, pretty points aside, the Steelers won their sixth Lombardi trophy and captured the hearts of Steeler Nation and did it the old Pittsburgh way: trying to give you a simultaneous heart attack, stroke, and meltdown before pulling it out in the last, desperate minutes. As I get older, a portable defibrilator might be a wise investment.

Before the game, my mom led me to an interesting website wherein Steeler fans posted their wacky gameday superstitions. Anyone who knows even a tidbit about me knows I'm super-superstitious and often so nervous, it's hard to actually watch the game. So, reading about other kooks out there with even wierder problems than my own warmed my soul and made me feel closer to my fellow Steeler fanatics.

About halfway through the fourth quarter in last night's fiasco, I retreated to a familiar area: the hallway, where I pace, hope, jump up and down, breathe heavily in series of fives, and repeat mantras in a whisper (things like, "Please, D, please, oh please, you're the best in the league, please, oh please!" You know, things like that.)

We changed our gameday-watching setup mid-season. So, my gameday-watching freak-out routine had to change too. I think my current habits began in the Dallas game and gained strength from there. It culminated during the last few minutes of the second regular season Baltimore game, as I watched Big Ben's game-winning drive through that crack in the door. In my mind, my position there is key to last-minute, game-winning drives to victory. (After last night, don't even attempt to tell me that where I stand and what I do does not matter to the on-field action. I simply point to the highlight reel as evidence and rest my case.)

My mind raced through so many emotions, it would be impossible to pin any one down. But, somewhere, I held out hope that Big Ben and Company could do it. I flashed back to those other games, those other gameclocks ticking dangerously close to quadruple zeros and I thought, "We can do this. One more time, for history, for the Rooneys, for all of us pacing in black and gold hallways around the world. We just can't lose. We just can't."

I won't claim I knew the outcome would be favorable - or, clearly, I might have left the hallway and actually entered the room with the screen. But I felt something pull me closer and closer to that doorway crack and I pushed my eyes into that space and watched Santonio Holmes pull down that perfect pass, through three defenders, in the teeniest space at the edge of the endzone and I totally lost it. It wasn't compelely over at that moment, but I knew in my gut. I felt it.

The Steelers will break your heart sometimes. Last night was not one of those times. Congrats, Ben and Troy and Willie and James and Jeff and Santonio and Mike T. and Hines and Heath and all the rest of the heroes big and small. Congrats to the Steeler Nation and most of all, the Rooney family.

Congrats to me, too, for physically making it through not only that game, but the entire stressful season. Now, only one thought comes to mind: I can't wait for next year! Here we go Steelers - Here we go!!