I have rooted for the Steelers since 1978, when my Grandfather, a season ticket-holder, taught me what it meant to love a sports team: watching every game and ruthlessly picking apart the weaknesses and failures of that "buncha bums."
Accordingly, every time they've been close since that glorious run in the 70's I've expected my beloved black-and-gold to not hold up. I've only actually picked them to win a Super Bowl or AFC Championship once, and that was in 2006, when as a 6th seed, they went all the way.
So tonight, I am seriously dreading the sense that the Cardinals offense will continue to be otherwordly, and that the overrated Ben Roethlisberger will throw three picks. Nonetheless, We're all in our NFL gear (save for Willow), and Rambunctious is wearing his too-small #7 jersey, and we're watching for so good old-fashioned hard-hitting football (Not only am I a feminist, I am also a pacifist, but football fanhood runs deep, I guess).
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