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One football team kicked the other team’s collective fanny.
The Nation can cry out and complain and call for firings, releases and mass exorcisms, and no doubt a vocal percentage will do precisely that. But the underlying principle of all that occurred in the Steelers’ 30-17 loss to the Ravens in the AFC wild-card playoff Saturday night at Heinz Field could be summed up with this single sentence spoken by Kelvin Beachum: “Kudos to them. They did a good job. They came in here and won in a hostile environment.”
Or, maybe better yet, this one from Joe Flacco in the visitors’ room: “You have to play these games to win. You can’t play not to lose. You have to go out there and let everything go. These games are all extra. You can’t worry about the outcome. Play aggressive football. Don’t have a conscience.”
That’s kind of how it looked, too, didn’t it?
Both ends of it, I mean.
The Steelers, despite the momentum of a month of triumphs and the AFC North title, suddenly were the team very much “living in their fears,” to borrow Mike Tomlin’s pet phrase when he insists he’ll never do any such thing. They coached passively, with the predictably sad return of all Todd Haley’s Sideways ‘N Screens R Us nonsense in Le’Veon Bell’s absence, or Antonio Brown touching the football only four times in the first three quarters because — gasp — the Ravens might double-team him, or the equally predictable lack of Dick LeBeau’s blitzing because — gasp — Flacco might throw it so far that no one will be able to ‘tackle the catch.’ They coached to their fears. Tomlin, too. And the players were no less a pushover, never displaying any composure mentally — 114 yards in penalties! — or any edge physically. Unless, of course, you can recall one significant hit on that side of the ball. I can’t.
They were the poster fodder for Flacco’s play-not-to-lose description.
But also recognize that the Ravens lived at that other end. Offensively, Flacco boldly cut loose with deep ball after deep ball, even though his receivers weren’t exactly scorching the secondary. On third-and-inches at the Pittsburgh 35, he heaved for the end zone. Eventually, it all paid off. Defensively, Terrell Suggs and Elvis Dumervil pinned the ears back and benefited from an all-guns-blazing, every-snap-is-our-last blitz, even as their beleaguered secondary not only blanketed the Steelers’ receivers but also drilled them at every chance.
“Our defensive backs were great, I thought,” John Harbaugh said, and it wasn’t an opinion.
The Ravens came without a care in the world, other than that they would invest every bead of sweat into succeeding. They didn’t come to be clever or careful. They came for the kill.
It’s distasteful to see it from that side, I know, but it’s accurate.
It’s distasteful that the Steelers’ most reviled rival got to dance around on their grass.
It’s disasteful that one coach now has this kind of edge on his counterpart:
tomlin20150301
It’s distasteful that the perpetually distasteful Harbaugh could mug afterward and try to have this remark taken seriously: “It’s a special victory because of who they are and how much we respect them and how much we like them. We like them all, professionally and personally. We like them.”
Dear God.
It’s distasteful, though completely classy, that Dan Rooney went to the Baltimore locker room to congratulate the victors. Again, it’s a grand gesture, but to think it had to happen …
“This hurts, man,” Jason Worilds was telling me in a terribly quiet locker room afterward. “This team was feeling good. We were feeling good. And then all this, all in one night.”
He wasn’t alone. In this collection of other reactions, I actually was compelled to cut off this opening with Steve McLendon because of how emotional he became:
I won’t apologize for cutting off the McLendon segment. To continue felt disrespectful. At the same time, there might be value in fans seeing how hard a loss like this hits those involved, infinitely harder than anyone could comprehend on the outside.
This was distasteful, every bit of it.
McLendon will be back, as will most of the youngster. Bell will be back. So will Martavis Bryant and Markus Wheaton. And Stephon Tuitt. And Antwon Blake and Shamarko Thomas. And Ryan Shazier and Jarvis Jones, assuming they can steer clear of athletic trainers. They’ll be able to build off the Steelers ascending to 11-5 after back-to-back 8-8 seasons. They’ll be, as Cam Heyward put it, “more battle-tested, better prepared for how to handle a lot of situations.” And they’ll be able to live it out as a group.
But not everyone. The emotions of the isolated evening aside, nothing felt like it reverberated more than the possible end to some remarkable Pittsburgh careers.
Troy Polamalu, after yet another game of looking nothing like the Polamalu who will be enshrined in Canton — LeBeau was shuttling Will Allen in to take his place on second and third downs by game’s end — sounded like a man seriously leaning toward retirement.
“Time will tell,” Polamalu said. “We just lost a game. Honestly, I’m not prepared to think about that.”
But when asked if it’s fair for all of us to wonder if he’s played his last game: “Yes, it is.”
James Harrison was equally noncommittal, but he’s already retired once.
Ike Taylor said “I’m not ready to talk about that,” and in the next breath talked about how much he’s “enjoyed my time in Pittsburgh and becoming a yinzer.”
Brett Keisel, of course, was lost to an ugly triceps tear. A comeback would be brutal.
I should mention LeBeau, too, now 77.
There’s an immense chance that all five men, all champions, are through. And if so, as Taylor stated with typical flair, “It’s been a great run for all of us.” All deserve their due, each in his own way, and none more than the truly great Polamalu, a transformational player at his position and someone whose reckless, riveting style we might never see again in Roger Goodell’s National Flag Football League. No. 43 has been one of a kind.
Say what you will of Polamalu now, but it’s damned fair to couch it with context for proper respect.
The departures will come first. And retirements or releases will only be part of it. Other players, including some with sizable salaries, can or should be released.
Good riddance to Mike Mitchell, as poor a free-agent signing as Tomlin and Kevin Colbert have made. And shame on him for describing after this game a groin injury that he claimed hampered him all season. The issue has been known since October, and if it isn’t enough to keep one off the field, it isn’t an excuse. Besides, groins don’t prevent intelligent positioning or functional tackling. That’s $20 million the Steelers don’t need to waste the next four years.
Good riddance to Cortez Allen for the same total cash.
Hard thought should be given, too, to the futures of Marcus Gilbert, a turnstile on this night and too many nights, and the $20 million he’s due, as well as Worilds, who will become a free agent after delivering eight sacks for the $10 million paid this season through the franchise tag.
Heath Miller?
I’m not ready to go there, certainly not over one lousy game. Besides, too much dead cap money — releasing players still comes with a cap hit in most cases — will hamper other signings, not least of which is the promised extension for Ben Roethlisberger next summer. And that alone promises a summer’s worth of drama.
It won’t lessen the drama that Roethlisberger ended poorly. His overall numbers — 31 of 45 for 334 yards — weren’t terrible, but only one touchdown against two interceptions were a killer. So were the five sacks, at least a couple of which he had no business taking.
“I want to apologize to the fans, my teammates, to the organization, to the Rooneys and to the coaches,” Roethlisberger said afterward, speaking of drama. “It’s just frustrating, and I wish I could apologize to everyone individually.”
Asked why he felt compelled to do that: “I didn’t play well enough. Guys look at me as the leader and the quarterback to make plays and win the football game, and I didn’t do that.”
OK, but that can come without flipping through the phone book to call out apologies.
I’m emphatically in favor of Roethlisberger’s extension. He’s a franchise quarterback and continued to cement his elite status over the course of this season. But he can toughen up, too, and I don’t mean in action. I mean in terms of taking over this offense and instilling — by storm, if needed — the boldness that its talent demands.
I’ve said this before, but the quarterback’s voice is louder than any coordinator’s … if it’s used.
You know who called that third-and-inches heave to the end zone for Baltimore?
Yeah, Flacco, as it turns out.
Some real progress was made this season, especially this winter. That shouldn’t be ignored, much less erased. A legit group of younger players took major strides toward becoming not only contributors but also Steelers. Real Steelers.
continued below
The Nation can cry out and complain and call for firings, releases and mass exorcisms, and no doubt a vocal percentage will do precisely that. But the underlying principle of all that occurred in the Steelers’ 30-17 loss to the Ravens in the AFC wild-card playoff Saturday night at Heinz Field could be summed up with this single sentence spoken by Kelvin Beachum: “Kudos to them. They did a good job. They came in here and won in a hostile environment.”
Or, maybe better yet, this one from Joe Flacco in the visitors’ room: “You have to play these games to win. You can’t play not to lose. You have to go out there and let everything go. These games are all extra. You can’t worry about the outcome. Play aggressive football. Don’t have a conscience.”
That’s kind of how it looked, too, didn’t it?
Both ends of it, I mean.
The Steelers, despite the momentum of a month of triumphs and the AFC North title, suddenly were the team very much “living in their fears,” to borrow Mike Tomlin’s pet phrase when he insists he’ll never do any such thing. They coached passively, with the predictably sad return of all Todd Haley’s Sideways ‘N Screens R Us nonsense in Le’Veon Bell’s absence, or Antonio Brown touching the football only four times in the first three quarters because — gasp — the Ravens might double-team him, or the equally predictable lack of Dick LeBeau’s blitzing because — gasp — Flacco might throw it so far that no one will be able to ‘tackle the catch.’ They coached to their fears. Tomlin, too. And the players were no less a pushover, never displaying any composure mentally — 114 yards in penalties! — or any edge physically. Unless, of course, you can recall one significant hit on that side of the ball. I can’t.
They were the poster fodder for Flacco’s play-not-to-lose description.
But also recognize that the Ravens lived at that other end. Offensively, Flacco boldly cut loose with deep ball after deep ball, even though his receivers weren’t exactly scorching the secondary. On third-and-inches at the Pittsburgh 35, he heaved for the end zone. Eventually, it all paid off. Defensively, Terrell Suggs and Elvis Dumervil pinned the ears back and benefited from an all-guns-blazing, every-snap-is-our-last blitz, even as their beleaguered secondary not only blanketed the Steelers’ receivers but also drilled them at every chance.
“Our defensive backs were great, I thought,” John Harbaugh said, and it wasn’t an opinion.
The Ravens came without a care in the world, other than that they would invest every bead of sweat into succeeding. They didn’t come to be clever or careful. They came for the kill.
It’s distasteful to see it from that side, I know, but it’s accurate.
It’s distasteful that the Steelers’ most reviled rival got to dance around on their grass.
It’s disasteful that one coach now has this kind of edge on his counterpart:
tomlin20150301
It’s distasteful that the perpetually distasteful Harbaugh could mug afterward and try to have this remark taken seriously: “It’s a special victory because of who they are and how much we respect them and how much we like them. We like them all, professionally and personally. We like them.”
Dear God.
It’s distasteful, though completely classy, that Dan Rooney went to the Baltimore locker room to congratulate the victors. Again, it’s a grand gesture, but to think it had to happen …
“This hurts, man,” Jason Worilds was telling me in a terribly quiet locker room afterward. “This team was feeling good. We were feeling good. And then all this, all in one night.”
He wasn’t alone. In this collection of other reactions, I actually was compelled to cut off this opening with Steve McLendon because of how emotional he became:
I won’t apologize for cutting off the McLendon segment. To continue felt disrespectful. At the same time, there might be value in fans seeing how hard a loss like this hits those involved, infinitely harder than anyone could comprehend on the outside.
This was distasteful, every bit of it.
McLendon will be back, as will most of the youngster. Bell will be back. So will Martavis Bryant and Markus Wheaton. And Stephon Tuitt. And Antwon Blake and Shamarko Thomas. And Ryan Shazier and Jarvis Jones, assuming they can steer clear of athletic trainers. They’ll be able to build off the Steelers ascending to 11-5 after back-to-back 8-8 seasons. They’ll be, as Cam Heyward put it, “more battle-tested, better prepared for how to handle a lot of situations.” And they’ll be able to live it out as a group.
But not everyone. The emotions of the isolated evening aside, nothing felt like it reverberated more than the possible end to some remarkable Pittsburgh careers.
Troy Polamalu, after yet another game of looking nothing like the Polamalu who will be enshrined in Canton — LeBeau was shuttling Will Allen in to take his place on second and third downs by game’s end — sounded like a man seriously leaning toward retirement.
“Time will tell,” Polamalu said. “We just lost a game. Honestly, I’m not prepared to think about that.”
But when asked if it’s fair for all of us to wonder if he’s played his last game: “Yes, it is.”
James Harrison was equally noncommittal, but he’s already retired once.
Ike Taylor said “I’m not ready to talk about that,” and in the next breath talked about how much he’s “enjoyed my time in Pittsburgh and becoming a yinzer.”
Brett Keisel, of course, was lost to an ugly triceps tear. A comeback would be brutal.
I should mention LeBeau, too, now 77.
There’s an immense chance that all five men, all champions, are through. And if so, as Taylor stated with typical flair, “It’s been a great run for all of us.” All deserve their due, each in his own way, and none more than the truly great Polamalu, a transformational player at his position and someone whose reckless, riveting style we might never see again in Roger Goodell’s National Flag Football League. No. 43 has been one of a kind.
Say what you will of Polamalu now, but it’s damned fair to couch it with context for proper respect.
The departures will come first. And retirements or releases will only be part of it. Other players, including some with sizable salaries, can or should be released.
Good riddance to Mike Mitchell, as poor a free-agent signing as Tomlin and Kevin Colbert have made. And shame on him for describing after this game a groin injury that he claimed hampered him all season. The issue has been known since October, and if it isn’t enough to keep one off the field, it isn’t an excuse. Besides, groins don’t prevent intelligent positioning or functional tackling. That’s $20 million the Steelers don’t need to waste the next four years.
Good riddance to Cortez Allen for the same total cash.
Hard thought should be given, too, to the futures of Marcus Gilbert, a turnstile on this night and too many nights, and the $20 million he’s due, as well as Worilds, who will become a free agent after delivering eight sacks for the $10 million paid this season through the franchise tag.
Heath Miller?
I’m not ready to go there, certainly not over one lousy game. Besides, too much dead cap money — releasing players still comes with a cap hit in most cases — will hamper other signings, not least of which is the promised extension for Ben Roethlisberger next summer. And that alone promises a summer’s worth of drama.
It won’t lessen the drama that Roethlisberger ended poorly. His overall numbers — 31 of 45 for 334 yards — weren’t terrible, but only one touchdown against two interceptions were a killer. So were the five sacks, at least a couple of which he had no business taking.
“I want to apologize to the fans, my teammates, to the organization, to the Rooneys and to the coaches,” Roethlisberger said afterward, speaking of drama. “It’s just frustrating, and I wish I could apologize to everyone individually.”
Asked why he felt compelled to do that: “I didn’t play well enough. Guys look at me as the leader and the quarterback to make plays and win the football game, and I didn’t do that.”
OK, but that can come without flipping through the phone book to call out apologies.
I’m emphatically in favor of Roethlisberger’s extension. He’s a franchise quarterback and continued to cement his elite status over the course of this season. But he can toughen up, too, and I don’t mean in action. I mean in terms of taking over this offense and instilling — by storm, if needed — the boldness that its talent demands.
I’ve said this before, but the quarterback’s voice is louder than any coordinator’s … if it’s used.
You know who called that third-and-inches heave to the end zone for Baltimore?
Yeah, Flacco, as it turns out.
Some real progress was made this season, especially this winter. That shouldn’t be ignored, much less erased. A legit group of younger players took major strides toward becoming not only contributors but also Steelers. Real Steelers.
continued below
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