I just wanted to point you all to a few things I’ve written over at the magazine while I’m recovering from my torn carotid artery.
As for an update on that, things are progressing slowly but surely. I am so close to feeling completely like my old self again to the point that while the noise is still there, I don’t even notice it some days. Thanks for all the kind emails, tweets, thoughts, prayers and yes, gifts. They mean more to me than you can imagine.
Things you may not have read yet!
1. My column on Roberto Clemente. I wrote a letter to my new hero about who he was, his plane crash, Wikipedia, and even his potty mouth. Burghers, if you haven’t learned about Roberto yet, I cannot encourage you enough to do it. What starts out as a general interest will explode into obsession as you begin reading anything you can find on him and you begin scouring the web for videos that manifest his reportedly other-worldly throwing arm.
When our idols die young, we’re left wondering if they would have remained worthy of our reverence, devotion and mythology. Would they have kept inspiring us to do better and be better? Or would they have eventually become a fallen angel who made us shake our heads and marvel at the drop from grace to rock bottom? I think it’s safe to say that, at 38, you were the man you were going to be for the rest of your life—and that’s inspiring.
2. My opinion on the possible loss of the Pitt Fall at Kennywood.
I don’t know why, but when I ride the Pitt Fall, coaxed onto it by nieces or nephews, I spend the fifty-minute (it seems) trip to the bottom in a state of rage I can’t explain. WHY AM I ON THIS? WHY AM I FALLING? WHO INVENTED THIS? I WOULD LIKE THIS TO STOP NOW. NOW. NOW? I HATE EVERYTHING ON THE PLANET.
3. And finally, my opinion on Hines Ward, the Buccos of Suckitude, the heat, Julie Bologna, and Jaromir Jagr, all wrapped up in one sweet post.
Remember how much I loved Jaromir Jagr and how much I wanted him to be a Penguin again and how I said I had no intention of booing him when he returns to Pittsburgh? Strike all of that from the record and replace it with this: “I will boo him so loudly and so emphatically and with so much pure rage that I will probably injure my vocal chords and black out from forgetting to breathe during my epic booing of that jerk-faced, disloyal, elderly Czech. If I could find the autograph he gave me all those years ago, I’d pin it to a voodoo doll and burn it. May the Karma Boomerang do her thang.”