Fucking Steel ...

I watched the Steelers-Ravens game at The Northern Sunday with the likely Black and Gold suspects, the town Pittsburgh ex-patriots: Erica, who once dated a guy from Irwin, Brian, a Duquesne law graduate from Bethel Park, and his wife. The four of us have watched every game together this season, always at The Northern, typically at the same table.

Brian and I talk about Gooski's, the rising home prices in Friendship, whether to root for the Dukes or the Panthers. We both continue to hold 412 area codes ... half-pride, half-cut-throat Verizon contracts.

"What was that bar, the Irish bar on Forbes?" Brian asks me. "It wasn't really Irish, but it sort of was."

"I should know this. I should really know this. Fuck, I mean, not only did I drink there with The Duke newspaper people every Thursday night and I got trashed there before a Springsteen concert at Mellon Arena, I met ..."

Twenty minutes later I texted her: "me and a Duq law grad are watching the game-after 20 minutes of head slapping we finally remembered the name: its shale's"

She responded, "haha, im ashamed, how could you not remember?"

We haven't really spoken in six months.

"ha-I am ashamed-no cute girls bought me an iron city since"

That was six years ago this week.

When Deuschbagburger hit Antonio Brown down the sideline for 58 on 3-11 with just over two minutes left, we flipped. Three plays later, we were in the end zone and up by seven with less than a minute left. Game over. The bar turned on us, booing. We've turned into the "We told you so!" fans. Down by 14 at the half? "There was never any doubt!"

I was wearing my Pirates hat, waving a Towel I bought in the Strip some Saturday morning a few Octobers ago when I was with Cody ... and Keriann.

The four of us made plans to sit at the same table next week for the AFC championship game. Everyone sits in the same seat -- there's no need to jinx this.


I want this in a back patch.

(See the rest of Black and Gold Flag at NeverTellmetheOdds.org.