Killing me softly with his words.

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“You can take the people out of Pittsburgh but you’ll never take the Pittsburgh out of people. I’m one of you. Y’inz know what I mean.”

Forget that I’ve never seen yinz spelled like that. The point is that I’m getting misty eyed from all of this Cowher coverage, particularly the retrospectives showing the Chin flipping out on the sidelines.

Bill Cowher is like our collective dog. Whether it was a good dog that brought you your slippers or a bad dog that would occasionally eat the stuffing out of the back of your couch (swear it happened), it was still the only dog you’ve known for 15 years and you’re sad when your dog dies.

Our dog is dead, Burghers.

That said, if our dead dog is resurrected in two years and starts coaching for the Cowboys, Browns, Bengals, Raiders or Ravens … I’ll hunt him down just so I can smack him with a rolled up newspaper … in the huevos.