No matter the reason, coach Mike Tomlin made a bad mistake. If he had brought in kicker Shaun Suisham to challenge Reed, make him feel a little less comfortable and bring out the competitor in him, that would have been great. But to flat out release Reed? The team will be worse off because of it.
Ron Cook, Post-Gazette, November 17, 2010
I could just end this post right there, and I’m going to.
Just kidding. Let’s let Ron Cook talk his way out of that one while I try to talk my way out of my comment last week that I expected the total decimation of the Bills.
Yesterday we had the family over at our house for the game because my husband was making some shredded chicken mole traditional Mexican sandwiches. I hate mole. Seriously. Whoever decided chocolate would be good on chicken should get a kick in the huevos.
Regardless, as the field goals were racking up points, this conversation happened:
Me: “Why did they call this football? Seriously. The foot only scores points as a last possible resort.”
Mom: “Well, they couldn’t call it soccer. It was already taken.”
Me: “[Internally] WTF IS SHE SMOKING? [Aloud] Um … Mom? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Mom: “Shut up.”
Me: “Handball? Throwball? Armball?”
So we’re righting years of wrong and calling it passball now. You’re welcome, futbol.
1. When we were up 13-0, I said to my brother-in-law, “Sheesh. This game is boring.”
And the God’s of football smote me with a BOOYAH!
As the score became closer and closer and my mother had to leave the room because of the stress, I said, “WHY, GOD?! WHY?!”
I hate boring games, but I hate close games more. I prefer a game somewhere between the ass-whooping we handed down to the Raiders and the thumb-sucking, rocking in place, losing my shit of the Bills/Steelers game.
A happy medium. There must be a way to win that doesn’t bore me to tears but that doesn’t age me like yesterday’s game aged me. Literally two new gray hairs.
WHY GOD, WHY?!
2. Am I wrong in thinking Kemoeatu sucks? Lots of unnecessary holding penalties. I might be mis-remembering, but there were several times during yesterday’s game when I thought to myself, “That guy sucks.”
Too handsy with the hands, n’at.
I also remember wishing evil things on Keyaron Fox’s face at one point during overtime. Like, his face was on my TV and I hexed him with the evil eye.
So that will explain if he woke up with an inverted nose.
One of these days, a hex of mine is going to work.
3. The first drive was BAM BAM BAM BAM SCORE. Just like that.
Total decimation is forthcoming.
The end is near for Buffalo.
Hines Ward: Fire.
The Duke of Fug and the Earl of Gross: Fire.
Rashard Mendenhall: Fie-ah.
4. And then here come Shaun Suisham (pronounced “HAWT”) to kick his first field goal as a Steeler and it’s not an easy one. 45-yards is what we’re asking of the boy.
Somewhere, in a seedy bar, Jeff Reed sits with an especially skanky slut, watching the game on TV, trying his hardest to hex the kick.
That is some strange-looking voodoo juju shit he’s pulling there.
But here’s Suisham (pronounced “NOM NOM”) with the kick … and … IT’S GOOD!
5. Then just before the second half, the score 10-0, the Steelers call on Suisham to attempt a field goal again, except this time, they’ve added a yard.
It’s getting harder, not easier.
That’s what she said.
So Suisham lines up for the kick, my family holds its collective breath because we really want him to do good, and somewhere Jeff Reed tries a new hex.
A scent of stale, putrid slut juice fills the air, temporarily rendering Suisham motionless, and then … the kick … from 46 yards out … and … IT’S GOOD!
13-0 going into the half!
Somewhere, Jeff Reed punches a poker machine.
6. Then someone somewhere did something at halftime, perhaps drugged the Steelers, because the second half started out and stayed one giant ball of passball suck.
I mean, WTF happened?
Where did the total decimation run off to?
Did Jeff Reed hex the whole damn team with his fart?!
7. Before we get to the suck, can we talk about Benny’s punt? What was the reason for that? What were they trying to do? Somebody explain it to me, Lucy!
It’s 4th and 4 at the Buffalo 30-something yard line, so why not just let Danny Boy punt it so I can take a look at his arms?
Why the hysterical looking, but not terrible punt by Benny?
The best part? It’s called a pooch punt. I’d never heard that before.
I want to front a rock band called Pooch Punt and this will be our cover art:
8. Not long after the punt of poochiness, James Harrison was penalized for roughing the passer because he tackled the passer and I guess maybe took a camera-phone pic up the passer’s GIANT PINK SKIRT.
Meanwhile, the NFL has rejected Harrison’s appeal of two fines that are costing him $95,000 for things he did WITHIN the game of football, while Andre Johnson and Cortland Finnegan had a real live fist fight outside of play and they’ll be fined $25,000 each.
I think we can all agree for the sake of James’ wallet, that he should just wait until the whistle is blown and then beat the shit out of quarterbacks with his fists of steel.
It’ll be cheaper that way, you see.
Excuse me while I lather up enough indignation for this epic eyeroll I’m about to execute.
Totally stuck the landing.
9. So before we know it, penalties start adding up and our play suffers and suddenly is 13-10 and Mendenhall fumbles, AGAIN and I want to punt the pooch.
Field goal. 13-13. WTF?
Let the rocking and muttering to yourself under your breath begin.
Benny saves the day with an 18-yard run after almost getting sacked and let’s bring out Suisham.
Only let’s make it even HARDER THIS TIME!
He’s gotta miss some time, right? I mean, he can’t be asked to continue to nail kicks from 40-plus yards out can he?
Somewhere, Jeff Reed is too distracted to notice what’s about to happen.
BAM! 48 yards and it’s good. All of Pittsburgh says, “Skippy who?” Ron Cook tries to erase his previous column from the archives. I’m stunned and writing the lyrics to “Pow! Goes the Punted Pooch” in my head.
We have to leave him alone now. He’s completed three successful long field goals. Nine of our 16 points. He’s done his work.
10. Know who else did his work? Troysus Polamalu.
What a game he had. Without him, that game was lost. No way around that.
11. Overtime. 16-16. And suddenly, the game is over. We have lost. A pass to Steve Johnson in the end zone is caught for a touch down. The quarterback is celebrating. I am weeping and changing the lyrics of my song to “KILL KILL KILL KILL.”
But … what’s this?
Actually, I think THESE guys are writing a song called KILL KILL KILL right now:
12. Finally, here’s our chance. Suisham. 41-yards.
THIS is the one’s he’s going to miss, right? The easy one. I brace for it.
My mother covers her eyes, preferring to know the result via our screams of joy or our chanting of KILL KILL KILL.
Jeff Reed sexts pictures of his crotch to Suisham in an effort to blind him.
Suisham vomits violently, lines up to kick … and …
SCREAMS OF JOY!
ARMS OF SEX!
HOT MAN LOVE EVERYWHERE!
Steelers win, I change the title of my song to “Daniel Sepulveda Should Call Me and Here’s Why,” and Steve Johnson sends out a hilarious tweet blaming God for his five dropped passes:
I bet when God was checking his Twitter and saw that, He was all, “UNFOLLOW.”
We’re 8-3 and Shaun Suisham earned us that passball win with his foot.
But seriously, someone needs to tell him to step off my man or I will punt his pooch.