'One post into the new year and already he's missed one.'
Forgive me. I got a little caught up spending my Sunday praying at the altar of his holiness ... the patron Saint ... Timmy.
Honestly, there are no words to describe just how improbable all this is. (Somewhere in Bristol, Connecticut, around 6:45 PM yesterday, some poor, 22 year old intern had to be giving Merril Hoge mouth-to-mouth.) Of all the ways that AFC Wild Card game COULD end, no one would have guessed '80-yd TD pass from Tebow in OT.' (BTW, so much for the end of one-possession OT games.) And as much as I would like to see the Tebow-mania subside, a small, miniscule, imperceptible part of my being has to thank the heavens for granting myself and the rest of the sports-loving world a brief respite from the plague that is ... Steeler nation.
It's not just the disproportionately large number of displaced stiller fans that seem to infiltrate every metropolitan area. It's not just the growing number of bandwagoners. Hell, it's not even the ridiculous sight of a few thousand, freeze-dried yahoos waving those repugnant yellow towels. (Terrible doesn't begin to describe.)
Rather, it's all of it. Nothing personal, I don't hate Steeler fans. I'm just 'Black-and-Yellow'd out. If you throw the Penguins into the mix, the surge in Pittsburgh paraphernalia over the last 5-6 years has been exponential. It just got to be too much. And if the price of a Steeler-less playoffs is a little more Tebow-humping, I will gladly turn down the TV, grit my teeth, and keep it moving 'til Sunday, February 5th. Until then ... #ThankYouBasedTebow . 
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