hawaiiansteel
12-12-2014, 02:48 PM
Column: Hey, it’s OK to like these Steelers
DEJAN KOVACEVIC, DK ON PITTSBURGH SPORTS
DECEMBER 11, 2014
http://dkonpittsburghsports.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/4601147801.jpg
One stoked fan cheers the Steelers’ 42-21 bashing of the Bengals Sunday at Paul Brown Stadium. — GETTY
I like these Steelers, though I see that’s uncool.
I like that they’re 8-5, with a foothold in the AFC North, with their fate in their hands, with the most fantastic offense the franchise has put forth since … wow, ever?
But yeah, I also see and hear and read fans describing this team in the most pained tones. Tune in to any discussion anywhere in the Nation at large, and it’s invariably about the worst secondary in human history or a lack of toughness or Mike Mitchell’s loose coverage or Mike Adams’ lousy blocking or Ben Roethlisberger’s occasional inaccuracy or Todd Haley’s occasional insanity or how every Towel-waving blasting of ‘Renegade’ now results in a deflating 80-yard bomb or, really, just about anything related to Mike Tomlin.
All of that’s fair game. It is. Even the perpetually hot topic of Tomlin’s countless cliches at press conferences. I peck about all of that myself in this very space.
But man alive, some of these fans — and it’s far, far too many to simply represent a vocal minority — speak of this edition of the Steelers as if it’s some abomination. And not just on the field, either.
I don’t like this team.
I don’t like these players.
It’s the least likable team they’ve ever had.
Come clean: How often have you heard some of this? Or thought it yourself?
Again, all that’s fair. It’s a free Nation. To each his or her own.
I happen to like Cam Heyward.
After another thoroughly Steelers-like showing Sunday in Cincinnati, he joined Brett Keisel on Tuesday night for the Western Pennsylvania Cystic Fibrosis Foundation’s annual fundraiser. Keisel has been a godsend for the organization. He’s been not only the front man but also the one legitimately, passionately getting to know some of the children affected, as well as their parents.
Keisel always brings teammates along, but Heyward was anything but a passenger on this night. Keisel has a season-ending triceps tear. He might be done in the NFL. So Heyward’s role was more of an apprentice because he’ll soon take over in that same role.
“It was like watching the passing of a torch, something most people don’t see,” one team official told me Wednesday. “That’s how the great Steelers do it.”
Read this wonderful account of the event by Teresa Varley of Steelers.com.
We all like Keisel.
From there, watch this video. Please. It’s one of those sights-and-sounds NFL Films gems from Cincinnati. Go ahead. I’ll wait right here until you’re done.
Back?
I like a lot of these guys, even the collective, maddening as they can be. Say what you will about losing to the Jets, Bucs and Saints, but it does take a real bond to stick through it. Especially in football, where the necessary divide between offense and defense can lead to finger-pointing.
I have no problem with Pouncey the man.
We’ve all read the accounts of incidents involving both him and his brother, Mike. I’ve seen not a trace of that persona. None. And infinitely more important, his teammates swear by him. As does Roethlisberger. They can’t all be wrong.
I like the quarterback, for that matter.
The whole sporting world read the accounts of his incidents. But, as with Pouncey, I’ll prefer to go with my own eyes. Roethlisberger can be defensive and controlled, even in this new smiling, upbeat version that was rolled out after his darkest days. He chooses his words carefully, sometimes actually scripts them out. He isn’t overwhelmingly or universally beloved, no. But not every personality lends itself to that. Yours might not. Mine definitely doesn’t. He handles his profession … professionally.
I like Le’Veon Bell, a little more every day.
Let the record show I called him a ‘dope’ and ‘stupid’ and much other nastiness when he was arrested for pot possession and DUI. I’ll stand by those, as it relates to that reckless act. But Bell’s response since then has been fittingly contrite but also somehow, remarkably, never caused him to break a single stride on the field.
Some will remember the pot. I’ll remember Bell sheepishly asking me after his press conference in Nashville if I felt he’d given enough credit to his offensive line.
Yeah, kid, you did fine.
I like Antonio Brown.
When he wore his silly hard hat the other day for an interview, I asked him about it after the cameras and microphones had dissipated. The response of the roster’s most tireless worker: “It’s mine. It’s about work. That’s all.”
I shared with him how the NHL’s Sharks and Flames have, at times, passed around such a hard hat to symbolize which player had worked the hardest that game.
“Really? That’s cool. This is mine. I’m not sharing.”
A solar-flare smile followed.
I like the camaraderie between the offensive line, where every big man Sunday in Cincinnati, no matter how well he’d played individually, pointed to David DeCastro’s excellent pulling to the left.
Or as Ramon Foster put it when I approached his stall, “Don’t you need to be talking to 66?”
I did, I did.
I like Martavis Bryant, harrowing as his early days in Latrobe were.
Tomlin pushed him hard. Roethliberger, too. We’ve seen why in recent weeks. He catches the ball in his chest, doesn’t get his hands out, doesn’t always run a disciplined route, doesn’t always duel for the 50/50 ball. It’s not good enough.
But then he does this little thing Sunday, and all the push is worth it.
At practice Wednesday inside the South Side bubble, each time Bryant took to the line of scrimmage, he’d glance to his right over to one of the high school referees the Steelers now pay to help them cut down on penalties. Bryant and the official have an understanding. Bryant raises his right arm, as if to ask if he’s onside. The official motions back his approval.
“Every single time,” Bryant told me. “I will not be offside.”
Bryant and Markus Wheaton have made their messes. They are not what Emmanuel Sanders has been in Denver. But they’re young. And be plenty sure they’re trying. People pined for this team to get younger. Well, this is what you get, good and bad.
There isn’t nearly as much to like on defense. Obviously, as the coach would say.
I like Lawrence Timmons‘ persistence in yet another partner-free season.
It would have been wonderful if all the Latrobe plans about using rookie Ryan Shazier to free up Timmons for more blitzing and stunting had come to fruition. The whole front seven would have had a far more dynamic feel. Didn’t happen. Shazier was hurt and continues to sit. But all Timmons has done, as ever, is fill the role that’s asked, make all the tackles, finish all the pursuits.
I like Stephon Tuitt, and I felt that way before Dick LeBeau finally got around to playing him.
Tuitt could have pouted, at least a little, when he was being benched for Cam Thomas, statistically one of the worst defensive ends in the league. He didn’t.
“I’m ready, and I’m humble,” he told me a month ago.
All he did, once called upon, was make an impression on the statistics and, of course, Andy Dalton’s ribs.
I like Troy Polamalu, and not just because it’s impossible not to.
He’s older. He’s not himself anymore. He struggles to cover across the middle. But his brutal candor about what the Steelers have been, what they are and what they still could be, for me, has been a refreshing departure from so much of what’s heard publicly.
He knows what it means to be a Steeler. He knows that means defense. He knows and feels — far more than any fan ever could — the pain of that disintegration with all these big plays.
“They have to stop,” he reiterated Wednesday. “They just have to. It’s not us. It’s not who we are.”
I like something that Mitchell said Wednesday, as well.
No, really.
I’ve been rough on the guy. He knows that. And he didn’t like, in particular, that a videotaped question that appeared on this site last week — I asked Mitchell how the secondary could cut down on big plays, and he responded, “Have there been big plays?” — cast him in a terrible light.
So he asked the team’s media relations to arrange a meeting between us Wednesday, to which I happily obliged per standard protocol. And we talked. And he spoke of feeling as if his words made it sound like he was willfully ignoring all the big plays. Rather, he stressed his belief that the secondary is getting stronger as a whole, that it’s cutting down on the big plays and especially that it’s faring far better on the less-than-big plays.
He also spoke passionately of his wish to remain part of the Steelers and build bridges in Pittsburgh.
I’m open to liking Mitchell. Helping to shut down Julio Jones in Atlanta would put many other Pittsburghers into that category, I’m guessing.
I really like Heyward.
Oh, I’ve mentioned that already?
Sorry, but this is the linchpin. This is the Steelers’ best hope of building a bridge of his own, from Keisel and Polamalu and James Harrison and other older guys still in the room to the next. He can’t do that by himself, but he can make a difference.
Which is why I’d pay attention when he says something about this team is different than the 8-8 duds the previous two seasons.
“We’re not done. We’re not in it, and we’re not out of it,” he told me Wednesday. “But what I like about this situation is that we’re not chasing. We’re in control. We’re in the driver’s seat. We’ve all been through a lot. We’ve got a big challenge this week in Atlanta. But we feel … I don’t know, this feels more like asserting ourselves.”
He paused, flung some equipment over his shoulder and added: “I like that.”
Anyone else?
http://dkonpittsburghsports.com/2014/12/11/column-hey-ok-like-steelers/
DEJAN KOVACEVIC, DK ON PITTSBURGH SPORTS
DECEMBER 11, 2014
http://dkonpittsburghsports.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/4601147801.jpg
One stoked fan cheers the Steelers’ 42-21 bashing of the Bengals Sunday at Paul Brown Stadium. — GETTY
I like these Steelers, though I see that’s uncool.
I like that they’re 8-5, with a foothold in the AFC North, with their fate in their hands, with the most fantastic offense the franchise has put forth since … wow, ever?
But yeah, I also see and hear and read fans describing this team in the most pained tones. Tune in to any discussion anywhere in the Nation at large, and it’s invariably about the worst secondary in human history or a lack of toughness or Mike Mitchell’s loose coverage or Mike Adams’ lousy blocking or Ben Roethlisberger’s occasional inaccuracy or Todd Haley’s occasional insanity or how every Towel-waving blasting of ‘Renegade’ now results in a deflating 80-yard bomb or, really, just about anything related to Mike Tomlin.
All of that’s fair game. It is. Even the perpetually hot topic of Tomlin’s countless cliches at press conferences. I peck about all of that myself in this very space.
But man alive, some of these fans — and it’s far, far too many to simply represent a vocal minority — speak of this edition of the Steelers as if it’s some abomination. And not just on the field, either.
I don’t like this team.
I don’t like these players.
It’s the least likable team they’ve ever had.
Come clean: How often have you heard some of this? Or thought it yourself?
Again, all that’s fair. It’s a free Nation. To each his or her own.
I happen to like Cam Heyward.
After another thoroughly Steelers-like showing Sunday in Cincinnati, he joined Brett Keisel on Tuesday night for the Western Pennsylvania Cystic Fibrosis Foundation’s annual fundraiser. Keisel has been a godsend for the organization. He’s been not only the front man but also the one legitimately, passionately getting to know some of the children affected, as well as their parents.
Keisel always brings teammates along, but Heyward was anything but a passenger on this night. Keisel has a season-ending triceps tear. He might be done in the NFL. So Heyward’s role was more of an apprentice because he’ll soon take over in that same role.
“It was like watching the passing of a torch, something most people don’t see,” one team official told me Wednesday. “That’s how the great Steelers do it.”
Read this wonderful account of the event by Teresa Varley of Steelers.com.
We all like Keisel.
From there, watch this video. Please. It’s one of those sights-and-sounds NFL Films gems from Cincinnati. Go ahead. I’ll wait right here until you’re done.
Back?
I like a lot of these guys, even the collective, maddening as they can be. Say what you will about losing to the Jets, Bucs and Saints, but it does take a real bond to stick through it. Especially in football, where the necessary divide between offense and defense can lead to finger-pointing.
I have no problem with Pouncey the man.
We’ve all read the accounts of incidents involving both him and his brother, Mike. I’ve seen not a trace of that persona. None. And infinitely more important, his teammates swear by him. As does Roethlisberger. They can’t all be wrong.
I like the quarterback, for that matter.
The whole sporting world read the accounts of his incidents. But, as with Pouncey, I’ll prefer to go with my own eyes. Roethlisberger can be defensive and controlled, even in this new smiling, upbeat version that was rolled out after his darkest days. He chooses his words carefully, sometimes actually scripts them out. He isn’t overwhelmingly or universally beloved, no. But not every personality lends itself to that. Yours might not. Mine definitely doesn’t. He handles his profession … professionally.
I like Le’Veon Bell, a little more every day.
Let the record show I called him a ‘dope’ and ‘stupid’ and much other nastiness when he was arrested for pot possession and DUI. I’ll stand by those, as it relates to that reckless act. But Bell’s response since then has been fittingly contrite but also somehow, remarkably, never caused him to break a single stride on the field.
Some will remember the pot. I’ll remember Bell sheepishly asking me after his press conference in Nashville if I felt he’d given enough credit to his offensive line.
Yeah, kid, you did fine.
I like Antonio Brown.
When he wore his silly hard hat the other day for an interview, I asked him about it after the cameras and microphones had dissipated. The response of the roster’s most tireless worker: “It’s mine. It’s about work. That’s all.”
I shared with him how the NHL’s Sharks and Flames have, at times, passed around such a hard hat to symbolize which player had worked the hardest that game.
“Really? That’s cool. This is mine. I’m not sharing.”
A solar-flare smile followed.
I like the camaraderie between the offensive line, where every big man Sunday in Cincinnati, no matter how well he’d played individually, pointed to David DeCastro’s excellent pulling to the left.
Or as Ramon Foster put it when I approached his stall, “Don’t you need to be talking to 66?”
I did, I did.
I like Martavis Bryant, harrowing as his early days in Latrobe were.
Tomlin pushed him hard. Roethliberger, too. We’ve seen why in recent weeks. He catches the ball in his chest, doesn’t get his hands out, doesn’t always run a disciplined route, doesn’t always duel for the 50/50 ball. It’s not good enough.
But then he does this little thing Sunday, and all the push is worth it.
At practice Wednesday inside the South Side bubble, each time Bryant took to the line of scrimmage, he’d glance to his right over to one of the high school referees the Steelers now pay to help them cut down on penalties. Bryant and the official have an understanding. Bryant raises his right arm, as if to ask if he’s onside. The official motions back his approval.
“Every single time,” Bryant told me. “I will not be offside.”
Bryant and Markus Wheaton have made their messes. They are not what Emmanuel Sanders has been in Denver. But they’re young. And be plenty sure they’re trying. People pined for this team to get younger. Well, this is what you get, good and bad.
There isn’t nearly as much to like on defense. Obviously, as the coach would say.
I like Lawrence Timmons‘ persistence in yet another partner-free season.
It would have been wonderful if all the Latrobe plans about using rookie Ryan Shazier to free up Timmons for more blitzing and stunting had come to fruition. The whole front seven would have had a far more dynamic feel. Didn’t happen. Shazier was hurt and continues to sit. But all Timmons has done, as ever, is fill the role that’s asked, make all the tackles, finish all the pursuits.
I like Stephon Tuitt, and I felt that way before Dick LeBeau finally got around to playing him.
Tuitt could have pouted, at least a little, when he was being benched for Cam Thomas, statistically one of the worst defensive ends in the league. He didn’t.
“I’m ready, and I’m humble,” he told me a month ago.
All he did, once called upon, was make an impression on the statistics and, of course, Andy Dalton’s ribs.
I like Troy Polamalu, and not just because it’s impossible not to.
He’s older. He’s not himself anymore. He struggles to cover across the middle. But his brutal candor about what the Steelers have been, what they are and what they still could be, for me, has been a refreshing departure from so much of what’s heard publicly.
He knows what it means to be a Steeler. He knows that means defense. He knows and feels — far more than any fan ever could — the pain of that disintegration with all these big plays.
“They have to stop,” he reiterated Wednesday. “They just have to. It’s not us. It’s not who we are.”
I like something that Mitchell said Wednesday, as well.
No, really.
I’ve been rough on the guy. He knows that. And he didn’t like, in particular, that a videotaped question that appeared on this site last week — I asked Mitchell how the secondary could cut down on big plays, and he responded, “Have there been big plays?” — cast him in a terrible light.
So he asked the team’s media relations to arrange a meeting between us Wednesday, to which I happily obliged per standard protocol. And we talked. And he spoke of feeling as if his words made it sound like he was willfully ignoring all the big plays. Rather, he stressed his belief that the secondary is getting stronger as a whole, that it’s cutting down on the big plays and especially that it’s faring far better on the less-than-big plays.
He also spoke passionately of his wish to remain part of the Steelers and build bridges in Pittsburgh.
I’m open to liking Mitchell. Helping to shut down Julio Jones in Atlanta would put many other Pittsburghers into that category, I’m guessing.
I really like Heyward.
Oh, I’ve mentioned that already?
Sorry, but this is the linchpin. This is the Steelers’ best hope of building a bridge of his own, from Keisel and Polamalu and James Harrison and other older guys still in the room to the next. He can’t do that by himself, but he can make a difference.
Which is why I’d pay attention when he says something about this team is different than the 8-8 duds the previous two seasons.
“We’re not done. We’re not in it, and we’re not out of it,” he told me Wednesday. “But what I like about this situation is that we’re not chasing. We’re in control. We’re in the driver’s seat. We’ve all been through a lot. We’ve got a big challenge this week in Atlanta. But we feel … I don’t know, this feels more like asserting ourselves.”
He paused, flung some equipment over his shoulder and added: “I like that.”
Anyone else?
http://dkonpittsburghsports.com/2014/12/11/column-hey-ok-like-steelers/