How the Steelers save me every year

A catharsis on the healing properties of coordinated violence

(This post was drafted before Sunday's game versus the Bears)

One of my all time favourite quotes comes from Ernest Hemingway in which he talked openly about his mental health. How small gestures form the anchors that hold us steady when life feels like too much, reminding us of our humanity and our deserving of human connection. 

This may come across as hyperbolic, over the top, a load of old twaddle. I mean, after all, this is a sports team blog. In fact, this is a sports team thousands of miles away in a different continent on the other side of the world. And yet the Steelers, for me at least, are the little anchor I need to ground me. 

Allow me briefly to explain. 15 or so years ago, after a winter cocooned inside, no sunshine and a frankly terrible Christmas, I discovered i had something called something called Seasonal Affective Disorder. Layman’s terms: I get bloody depressed in the winter if I'm not careful. Huddled around artificial light for therapy, vitamin tablets and forcing myself outside, its a fight I face every year. Like a terrible NFL trade, I only know if I'm losing the battle after it’s too late. And this is where the Steelers come in. 

And sometimes, the simple things like the ability to sit and watch 300 pound grown men hit each other for our entertainment is what I need to help.

Hemingway’s quote later goes on: “Don’t try to fix me.” A simple, beautiful plea; not to offer solutions, merely to offer silent companionship. No danger of the Steelers fixing much, anyone who has watched this team for more than a drive this year will attest this team is capable of stressing out even the calmest of fans, it's a weekly hokey cokey, in and then out of relevancy every week. If your answer or solution was this current Steelers team, then I don't want to speculate as to the question. What remains though, is the constant ability to unite us in a cacophony of emotions each and every Sunday. 

It’s something I think only sport can perfect. Sure music and films have their moments, but sport’s ability to engage people and communities is seldom matched and this sport especially! After all, what kind of mad fools we are to give ourselves to a game that kicks off at one in the morning. But we engage with it because we love it, as masochistic as it may appear at times, It’s an avenue of joy, an opportunity for catharsis which I think, if we’re honest, we take for granted. To me, this crazy, wonderful little family i’ve met through black and gold tinted glasses provides that connection Hemingway talks about. Win or lose, it’s the journey along the way that can count just as much. The memories, both good and bad, provide root for flowers and thorns we will still be talking about in years to come. 

Thank goodness I flicked the TV all those years ago to see Jerome Bettis running a football and started an affair with a sport that has given me so much in return. It’s allowed me to join a community of like minded sadomasochists, who are now stuck with me whether they like it or not. So whatever happens moving forward, we’re black and gold no matter what and this will always serve as my reminder to enjoy the journey the city of bridges takes us.