Yinz Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind

Since attending the AFC Championship game in Pittsburgh approximately ten days ago, I have been living in a noxious state of excitement and sheer terror, all the while presumably looking forward to Super Bowl XLV this Sunday. This is the conundrum on the edge of the universe: wait in anxious anticipation all year, on every snap of every quarter of every game, to get to the playoffs to get to the championship game to get to the Super Bowl, so that the stress of that Super Bowl game can drive you mad in the interim. So simple and succinct.

Every die-hard fan lives like this. Entire days, weeks, and months are hinged upon the outcome of any one Steelers' game. If you think things are tense in the middle of the season for some divisional round showdown, rachet it up tenfold for playoff games. And as for the Super Bowl? All you might need to know is there was a guy who burned down his house during Super Bowl XLIII, a game in which the Steelers were victorious.

So pardon me if I could not put down in words just how I felt after being moved to tears by 66,000 freezing-cold Steeler fans singing in unison that Pittsburgh was, indeed, "going to the Super Bowl." Forgive me if I can't fully explain the joy I felt when the defense held on four downs of a goal-line stand. (If I ever procreate and that kid ends up walking the length of a stage to receive a diploma, I can say the pride will be equalled...probably.) Excuse my lack of eloquence as I describe how it was to watch Franco and Rocky wave their towels from the makeshift stage when awarding an eighth Lamar Hunt trophy to the Rooneys.

That Sunday night in Pittsburgh, with a wind chill below zero and an anxiety level through the roof, was maybe one of the best nights of my life. To see it in person, thanks to the generosity of my parents, allowed me access to a dream come true.

Yes, I have wanted this all year long, to know that my team is in the Super Bowl, one of the last two standing. Now that it is here, so is that familiar anxious pit in my stomach, the eager and cautious anticipation of the big game. I want the Steelers to win a seventh Lombardi, even though I know as I write the words it might be tempting the Gods of Greed and Fate. I know they might not win the game, allowing for morbid disappointment.

But I do know that, having been there, in that moment at Heinz Field, Steeler Nation will love those fellows just the same, for allowing us to witness greatness, participate in two more weeks of football-inspired madness, and revel in being champions in the AFC.

Even if we all did lose our minds just a bit in the process.