Requiem for the Steelers

When I was 4, I'd wake up every morning, run downstairs, and read the sports section of the New York Times. I'd pore through the stats, read what little I could of the stories, memorize the standings. I didn't have a team that I loved yet though. My parents didn't care about sports in the least, came from India and Kansas, had just moved us to New Jersey. So while all the kids around me rooted for the Giants or the Jets, I harbored no geographic sports loyalties. I was a four year-old without a team.

So in 1979, when I was watching my favorite television show, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, and Lynn Swann, wide receiver for the Pittsburgh Steelers came on a guest, my world was rocked. Not only was I seeing a black person hang out with Mr. Rogers, but he was an athlete, an icon, a legend in the football world. At that moment, I swore undying allegiance to the Steelers. Forever.

Over the next few decades, I held true to my epic commitment, suffering through the years of Bubby Brister, Neal O' Donnell, and (shudder) Kordell Stewart. The losing seasons, the mediocrity, the occasional flashes of brilliance only to be doused by the harsh reality of the NFL playoffs.

When Meg and I began this trip, I knew that I'd have to give up at least part of my addiction to sports. No longer would I be able to listen to every game on the radio or obsess over injury reports. Football was impossible to follow outside of America. I had to let go.

I tried (with limited success) to switch my allegiance to cricket, a far more accessible game in India. But ultimately any game that involves a "tea break" will never be able to replace football in my heart. So when I heard that the Steelers AFC championship game would be broadcast live in India at 5am this morning, well I knew what I had to do.

So I awoke early, found Indian ESPN, and watched. Lost hope at halftime, regained it in the 3rd quarter and suffered deeply at the end of the game when our rookie quarterback played, well, like a rookie. The mighty Steelers lost, alas, and I'm underslept and grumpy in a foreign land.

But my love for the Steelers will carry on, and by next December, when they're battling in the playoffs again, I'll be dragging Meg out to a bar in Honduras somewhere to watch them. As much as I want to immerse myself in the countries that we visit, I'm going to carry around this little piece of America with me everywhere we go. At least next time, we'll be in the same time zone.

--rahul