How I found out we'd won the Super Bowl

I think this is a picture of Bruce Springsteen from the Super Bowl. That massive, leonine head...

Someone should sculpt him.

I should note that I once slept on a sidewalk ALL NIGHT LONG so I could get tickets to one of his concerts. Needless to say, on this particular night, I found him wonderful and riveting in a sad way. It was as though a long lost boyfriend had emerged from the past and was as virile and gorgeous as ever while I was old... so OLD...

Okay, Mackenzie, you're 54. Get over yourself.

The New York Times and other critics didn't agree that Bruce was so transcendent. You can read about that here.

Anyway, towards the end of the second half, when Kurt Warner caught that touchdown I thought, well, this can't be good. Sure, they have two minutes left, but what are the chances...?

This kind of football is actually almost painful to sit through. Especially when your newspaper, the place where you work...the place you plan to cling to until they pry it loose from your cold, dead hands... is probably going to reap all kinds of extra ad revenue if the Steelers WIN. So, if they LOSE, it's not just bad for Steelers Nation, it's bad for the Pittsburgh-Post-Gazette (One of America's Great Newspapers).

So, I bid youngest daughter Annie-belle farewell and wandered into my room to lie down in darkness. I lay there, thinking, it's okay, Mackenzie, be still your beating heart, it's only A FOOTBALL GAME.

Then, from the house across the street on our small city block, I heard a strange sound. It was Kent Tarpley, a RABID Steelers fan. He sits in his front living room during games watching it on his big screen TV. Basically, you can follow the play-by-play from his howling, his hollering and his "yowzas."
(He's also the guy who saved our house from burning down a few years ago. You can read about that here.)

Out of this silent night, I suddenly heard this kind of "HMHhPHFFFF!!!! harfmfff!!! YEOWWWWWff!!!

And I thought, hmmm, something must have happened? I got up and wandered out into the family room. "What happened?" I asked Annie-belle.

"Oh," she said in her tiny little 14-year-old voice. "The Steelers got a touchdown, they're winning and there are 23 seconds left."

HMHhPHFFFF!!!!

harfmfff!!!

YEOWWWWWff!!!

Suddenly I heard the sound of firecrackers going off out on the street below.








I opened our window. Neighbors were coming out onto their porches, yelling for joy.

"Mom, don't do it. Don't be embarrassing!" Annie implored, as I leaned out and screamed in a strangled voice, "GO STEELERS!!!"