Did you really think I'd only do one post that mentioned Mike Tomlin?

Here is a letter I wrote to the Pittburgh Post-Gazette's sport's mailbag. I doubt that it is going to get published, so I thought I'd go ahead and post it here.

It seems like everyone and their mother has an opinion on Mike Tomlin. And after reading and listening to what my fellow Pittsburghers are saying, I am very disappointed. More than a few have voiced opinions that Tomlin isn’t the man for the job because his history doesn’t include playing at a “big-time” college.

This makes me think some don’t take small college football seriously.

Or worse yet, that some believe the players at small colleges don’t take the game seriously.

I really hope that no one holds that opinion. Because it is dead wrong. No one, and I mean no one, takes football more seriously than the players at a small college.

First of all, the academic standards of most of the smaller schools are notoriously higher than at most larger institutions. Playing ball isn’t their main job—achieving in the classroom is. The fact that these young men do achieve academically, while maintaining intense training and practice schedules shows their dedication.

Second, the driving force in small school football is totally different than at “big-time” schools. The young men who play Division II, A-II, and (especially) III, know this, with very few exceptions, is the end of their football careers.

They are out there, doing the same 2-a-days, in 90 degree heat and 95% humidity. They are putting hours into studying game tapes as well as their textbooks. These young men are as serious about this game as anyone can be.

It is just the reasons that they do it that are different.

But they are doing it with the love of the game in their hearts, the discipline they have learned in their minds, and confidence in their souls. They do it with respect for the game, their coaches and teammates, their schools and communities, and even their opponents.

They aren’t doing it to be “big man on campus” or to show-off and hot-dog it. They don’t do it for pro-scouts. Or the chance at million dollar contracts and fancy shoe endorsements. Most of them do it without even a scholarship.

So, if this is what Mike Tomlin is bringing to the table, I’ll be waiting with open arms. Maybe if the NFL had more small school discipline, we’d see less pros being arrested, less show-boating during games, and fewer press conferences called for the sole reason of making apologies.

All I’m saying, is as a city that loves the sport, we need to give Tomlin a chance. And while we are at it, maybe we should show some support of all the good small school football we have around here. Go catch a game at CMU, where they teach the wing-T offense with the same precision that is devoted to their robotics program. Or head out to little Washington, where at W & J you can see a game with hits as hard as any big school (but where you’ll actually get to sit close enough to see & hear them). Take a road trip up north to check out schools like Allegheny College, Thiel College, Grove City College or Edinboro University. Or if you’d rather head west, go to neighboring Ohio and see Hiram, Kenyon, Oberlin, Wittenberg, Denison, Wabash, Wooster, Ohio Wesleyan, or the ultimate in small school football—the Mount Union Purple Raiders (with 8 National Championships in 11 years, often with young western Pennsylvanians on the roster.) So go find a small school game: there are many close by, the tickets are cheap, and rarely is there a bad seat in the house. These may be the best games no one is watching.


Hope you enjoyed it. And for real, find a D-III game and have some fun.

I guess this is why people don't get involved anymore.

So, I sort of had a run-in with a junkie last night.

The whole story is kind of sad and disturbing.

It is this guy that lives in my building. Even before I moved in, I knew of him, through mutual friends. They warned me, “He’s goofy” but they explained that he was in recovery and that between the prescriptions he needed to maintain sobriety (isn’t that an oxymoron?) and the damage he did to himself, he was permanently off-center.

But the more I saw him around, the more convinced I became he wasn’t goofy. He hadn’t stopped using.

My involvement started with his girlfriend asking to use my phone—he wasn’t home yet and she was locked out of their apartment. She is a nice enough girl, though I fear just a little naïve.

She couldn’t seem to get a hold of him and the longer this went on, the more of their story I heard. It finally ended when 3 police cars escorted him home.

I walked with his girlfriend out to meet him and the police (for fear that she may get herself locked out again). Also in the crowd was a man who identified himself as the building owner’s son (which is not surprising—I’m really not sure how many sons this guy has but I know I haven’t met them all). The conversation was swirling around me and as I wasn’t part of it, I heard only a few choice words: “happening again”, “heroin”, “get him some help”, and “eviction” are the ones that stick out in my mind.

Once I saw that the two were reunited and we all headed back into the building, I returned to my apartment. Only to hear crazy sounds of yelling and banging. I quickly realized that not only did she not have keys, but that in his state of highness, he had no idea where his set was either.

Then finally, there was peace.

You would think that would be the end of the story. But of course, it isn’t. A buddy called. He and another friend of mine were in the neighborhood. I had borrowed a DVD from him. If he pulled up and the other guy ran to the door, could I bring it down? Sure, why not. Except, on my way down, I came upon the neighbor, unconscious on the stairs.

What to do, what to do.

So, like any rational human being (or so I hope) I used the other stairs to meet the friend. Where I find that the security door had been propped. The friend is there and wondering what is going on—he noticed the open door and said the building’s back courtyard had been trashed. I ask if either he or our buddy still out in the car could stick around awhile. He obliges and I tell him to follow me as I dial 911.

I lock us safely back in my apartment as I make my report to the dispatcher. I make the report partially anonymous—first name only. And I take a return call from the dispatcher, to give further instructions for the police on how to enter the building.

My last direct involvement occurred as I stood next to my front door, listening for the officers to enter the building. I heard one radio for an ambulance to my building’s address, citing an unconscious male, possibly over-dosed.

And while that may be my last direct involvement in the situation, don’t think for a minute the whole ordeal hasn’t haunted me. Trust me, there is still a lot of worry and concern occurring. Even a nightmare last night. Hope tonight is easier.

So, snow?

Finally, we are getting a little snow. And it is actually the pretty kind, not the nasty little flecks of ice.

This coincides with me reading The Children's Blizzard, which is very interesting, though not the most upbeat of reading choices. I think more people should check it out.

I say that as a fan of true disaster books. So, get The Children's Blizzard. Also get: The Worst Hard Time and The Johnstown Flood. If you like them depressing.

Guaranteed 100% free from any and all Grimm puns.

As a card carrying member of the Steeler Nation and owner of this blog, I see it is necessary for me to make a post about the Steelers. I don’t feel the need, but for some reason, I think I just might lose that status as Steeler Nation Citizen if I don’t blog about them.

So, here is my effort. As promised, there will be no puns on Grimm’s name. Nor will I attempt to find something, anything, that rhymes with Tomlin.

My opinion on the Steelers hiring Mike Tomlin? Well, to be honest, no one cares. I mean, about my opinion. At least, no one who counts cares. It isn’t like the Rooneys rang me up and said, “Hey, Kel, who do YOU think we should hire?” And that is the way it is supposed to be.

And when the time comes for me to make a major purchase, say new winter boots, I don’t call the Rooney family for their input (though I’m sure that Dan would have no problems choosing a stylish pair). While the Rooney’s favorite non-football past-time very well may be watching the proles like me scramble on foot across an icy Clemente bridge during the morning commute, they keep their boot purchasing advice to themselves.

They don’t care where I found them, how much I paid for them, how much “experience” they have, what color, style, or scheme they are. They leave me and my boots alone.

And I suggest we give them the same respect.

We will all find out soon enough what Mike Tomlin is made of, how he fits the Steeler’s organization. We may all be pleasantly pleased to learn that he is the perfect fit. Or we may find out that he isn’t and should have never even stopped in our town. But either way, our job, as fans, is to sit down, shut up and watch the game. The answers come at the end and we have no reason to believe we deserve them any sooner.

I am...

my favorite book?


You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!

by John Irving

Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT SOUNDS LIKE THIS!


Take the href="Book Quiz
at the href="Blue Pyramid.

Thanks, Erin, for leading me to this.

Under the river and through the woods...

Yeah, I know that isn't the correct lyrics. But eventually (2011, maybe?) you'll be able to say that here in Pittsburgh, that is, if your grandmother lives on the North "Shore".

This is all due to the North Shore Connector, a huge PAT project that recently got under way. Yes, the same people who are cutting 60% of their bus routes due to a financial deficit are also working on an underwater tunnel for subway cars that will service one of the least busy areas of town.

Yeah, re-read that again really slow and see if you catch it this time.

No? Well, I didn't think so. No matter how slow you read it, it never makes sense.

"But the federal government is paying for 80% of it" is the biggest defense.

And that doesn't matter. 20% (which is PAT's contribution) of hundreds of millions is. . . Well, more millions than PAT has.

But that isn't what I am writing about today. That is just the background. The real point of this is the flooding that occurred on all three rivers this week. Which happens. Actually pretty often.

OK, so it is a little unusual for it to happen in January, but it has been a mild winter. But it certainly is not unheard of to happen now. And we all know it happens. Regularly.

What do the flooding and the North Shore Connector have to do with each other? Well, the Connector is in it's second, maybe third week of construction, which will likely last years. And the construction site flooded. Yep, three weeks in and construction was shut down for a flood.

So, over the years that it is going to take for this thing to get built, how many times is work going to be halted for flooding? How far will it push back the completion date? How far will it take it over budget?

Are we really sure this is a good idea? Really?

Wow...

So, it has been more than a year since I set virtual foot in here. I'm not really sure what it was that inspired me to try this again, but this time, I'm really feeling it more.

It is both amazing and somewhat of a shame that I didn't keep this blog going over the past year. Seeing as how both the name of the blog and my username indicate that I would focus on the City of Pittsburgh and my life in it, it would appear I missed a big year.

Fastest re-cap of the year: The Pittsburgh Steelers, led by Boy Wonder I, win the Super Bowl, finally giving fans what they have been waiting for since 1981. The City hosted MLB's All-Star game, which is Pittsburgh baseball fans only chance to see stars. This event was tempered with some bad news--the announcement of Mayor Bob O'Connor's illness. The man who championed so hard to bring the game here was hospitalized during the entire week of events. In fact, O'Connor never left the hospital, dying about two months later of cancer. This lead to the introduction of Boy Wonder II, Luke Ravenstahl.

Yeah, I'd say those are the big three for the past year. Where was I during all of this? Well, I started the year in the same place that I started this blog originally. But before you knew it, I relocated. Twice. Yes, still in the City. But I picked a new neighborhood--Lawrenceville.

I gave up my car. And cable. I went through a break-up and am still single. Finally finished my undergrad.

And I watched the above events through my eyes and not what the media feeds said.

When the Steelers won the Super Bowl, I was still on Liberty. I watched the game alone, but when it was over I joined the crowds outside celebrating. I screamed and danced and cheered with my buddy Gino and his parents. Then I returned to my safe, warm apartment and watched the craziness outside, while taking drunken calls from yinzers in every time zone.

The one from my brother meant the most to me. He was about 3 months from being born the last time the Steelers won the big one. Football is his life's work. A very emotional call indeed.

The All-Star game was much less fun. I didn't go and it occurred way too close to where I was temping. Having the ATF inspect my bag lunch everyday for a week got old fast. As did the Clemente family continuing at parade speed long past the parade route and delaying my after-work bus. I just wanted out of those crowds.

The death of Bob O'Connor might have been the one that struck me the most. It occurred right about the same time my great-uncle, Ron, passed away. Also of cancer, also following a long hospitalization (same hospital, in fact). Made it hit home a little harder.

Wonder Boy II might be my favorite. OK, so he is young and he's the mayor. Why do I love it? Because in my mind, he'll always be that drunken college student, my baby brother's buddy from his days at W & J. It is impossible to erase those images from my mind.

OK, now that is the condensed version of the last year of my life. Now, I can continue on with the rest of it.