Fan Voices: Yinzer in a strange land

On a typical autumn Sunday, the Yinzers I grew up with in Western Pennsylvania are watching the Steelers game in their La-Z-Boys with an Arn (Iron City beer). I am walking through Central Park, often in freezing rain, cursing and stamping my feet.

Football fans who have moved to a city away from their home team typically subscribe to NFL Sunday Ticket. or go to a sports bar if their game isn’t televised locally. I trek.  

This is not a personal preference. If the Steelers game is on in my living room, I watch. But it rarely is. In 2022, for example, only one Steelers game was televised in New York on a Sunday afternoon — when they played the Jets. 

It’s maddening. Every Wednesday I go to 506 Sports to see the NFL TV coverage map for the upcoming Sunday. I often feel like Homer Simpson: 

Hmmmm! Steelers/Ravens is red on the map! Hmmmm, a lot of reddd…! 

Then I see New York. D’oh!!!  

New York is the pits. On any given Sunday, transplanted fans in other locales have a puncher’s chance of seeing their team play because their adopted city has only one team. The one o’clock or four o’clock slot is always open, usually televising both the CBS and Fox broadcast. On a typical Sunday in New York, both slots are taken. Further, should one be available — say, the Jets are playing Monday Night — the network often favors a rival. Which means in New York you might get to see the Patriots/Dolphins.

Lucky you.

Sometimes it seems like there’s a conspiracy to keep me from seeing my game. This preseason, I was excited to see the Giants and Jets were both on the Steelers’ schedule — games I’d get to see on Sunday afternoons. Then the schedule came out, and I learned both were national night games. What the hell, NFL? You could have shown the New York games on Sunday afternoon and paired the Steelers with other opponents in the national timeslots. 

Thanks a lot, Goodell. 

Early on, I might have subscribed to NFL Sunday Ticket, but I lived in an apartment and DirecTV wasn’t an option. So, I listened to Steelers games on the Internet. When I got a smartphone, I no longer had an excuse to be a couch potato. A ritual was born.

It hasn’t always been easy. With apologies to duffers and Mark Twain, Steelers games are often a long walk spoiled. Last season, the offense averaged 17.9 points a game. Every game but the final one was a loss or an ugly win. 

O, I often yearned, what I would give to have Ben Roethlisberger back. Big Ben could ring up 18 points while eating a hotdog. When Ben played, a walk through the park was … a walk through the park. Last year felt like 15 rounds with Mike Tyson (the pre Jake Paul version). Except Arn Mike would have the decency to knock you out.

The Steelers typically fell behind early. So, leaving my apartment on West 88th Street, I was vexed before I even got to Barnes and Noble on 82nd. I would proceed to Blondies Sports, a bar on West 79th Street, just in time to peer through the window and see a replay of the boneheaded play I had just heard. 

Then, onward to Central Park, where I literally follow the same path every Sunday (Bridal Path to Sheep Meadow to the Mall to the Ramble to the Great Lawn to the Reservoir for the Big Finish). It is extremely important I stick to this route because I’m superstitious. 

It is also extremely stupid. It’s not like they’ve got a winning track record on this track. So why do I stick to it? I don’t know. My wife likes to tell the story about the time I chased her out of the living room because she was bringing the Steelers bad luck. She went back to the bedroom and watched the game there — a surprise because she’s not a football fan. When the Steelers fared no better, I went back to the bedroom and made her change the channel because she was still jinxing it.

In my defense, it was a playoff game, and they eventually won. 

Being a Steelers fan in New York can feel like being alone on a desert island

Needless to say, I am agitated throughout most of my walk. Even in the best of times, I’m irrational and anxiety-ridden during Steelers games. An extra point attempt is literally the most important thing in my world at that moment. 

The Steelers and I are not a great match. No game is safe when they’re playing. I’ve seen 14-point leads go up like kindling. I kick rocks, I slam my hand into my forehead, I bend over and groan. Passersby have asked if I was okay. They probably thought I was having a heart attack. 

But mostly people give me a wide berth, avoiding the crazy man. In New York City, that’s really saying something. 

On the other hand, there have been many moments of pure rapture. I scream. I jump and whoop, I dance around pointing my fingers like early Steve Martin. 

Which is probably even scarier to my fellow citizens. And not just them. I have frightened squirrels with my sudden ecstatic outbursts. I am not proud of this. Small wonder I prefer to watch in my living room. At least there’s no risk of a police escort to the loony bin.

Friends have asked why I don’t go to a Steelers bar, as there are several in Manhattan.

The only trouble with Steelers bars is they have a lot of Steelers fans. I apologize for saying this, Steelers Nation, but Steelers fans are awful. Every time the team fails to convert a third down, they erupt in a frenzy, unleashing a tidal wave of fury and theatrical despair. 

The Steelers have the highest proportion of female fans in the NFL. That’s great. But they scream! In your ear! When the team fails to convert a third down!

I’m obviously no better, so the last thing I need is to be around people like me. I’m laser-focused on the game and stressed enough as it is. For me, watching a Steelers game in a Steelers bar is like trying to land a crippled 737 with a payload of braying donkeys. 

I’ve tried watching Steelers games in regular sports bars. It’s okay, except I find sports fans who are drinking beer actually try to talk to you. During a Steelers game! (Crazy, right?) I’m like: “Look, buddy, the fate of the free world hinges on this extra point — so shut-up!” 

There are now numerous free streaming sites I could use. In my experience, they lag and aren’t dependable. And I have NFL+ so I can always see the full replay. If they won. 

My friend watches Steelers games on NFL+. a few hours after they’ve aired, avoiding all media up until then so he doesn’t know the outcome. I can’t do that. I’m the kind of guy who keeps checking the score on his phone during a funeral. Plus, I like the communal experience of texting (i.e., bitching) with my back-home Yinzers in real-time.

At the midway point, this season has been — knock wood! — much better for us. The Steelers finally got a real quarterback. Maybe even two of them? Though the games have been white-knuckle dogfights, the offense has significantly improved. Things have looked so good I’m almost tempted to subscribe to NFL Sunday Ticket on YouTube. 

But my superstitious nature won’t allow it. No way I’m falling for that. No way I won’t tank our season if I shell out a hoard of cash for the privilege of watching the Steelers. 

Nice try, Goodell. 

But it’s actually more than that. As frustrating as these games may be, as I get older, I find there’s an element of catharsis. Steelers games have become a therapeutic outlet via physical activity and emotional duress. All of my other problems disappear during those three hours. At the end, win or lose, I feel purged and ultimately better. If they won, then guess what — I’m a winner. If they lost, I’m reminded that I cannot rely on others for my happiness on my journey through this life. 

Boy, am I reminded…

Plus, I’ll have racked up twenty thousand steps! 

As Homer would put it, Woo-hoo!