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This Cup Of Coffee's Getting Stale

It's no secret that most mainstream media columnists these days are miserable. Let me introduce you today, Steeler fans, to Ted Miller of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. Perhaps I should put that last part in quotation marks. His latest column is anything but intelligent.

The basic point of the column is fine - commendable, even. Miller notes that it's high time Seahawks fans start apologizing to Steeler fans for acting like the officials gifted the Steelers the world championship.

But what precedes the ultimate point is a giant slop of lazy, false provocations. It's the ultimate backhanded compliment, really. Spend the first 500 words asserting the notion that the Steelers were gifted the Super Bowl and then, at the very end, slip in a short message about apologizing for continuous whining about the officiating. You can't have it both ways, Teddy.

What's clear from the column is that Seattle fans are still delusional about what happened that night. Pittsburgh, you may recall, brought their C-game, made two big plays, and scored 21 points. The Seahawks brought their F-game, made no big plays, scored 10 points, and lost.

I don't recall any Jurevicious to Engram touchdown throws. I can't recall Shaun Alexander breaking any long touchdown runs, either. I do, however, remember two enormous defensive breakdowns by the Seahawks, and I do distinctly recall Big Mouth Jerramy Stevens dropping catches on several occasions.

Let's not even throw into the equation the teams' respective roads the Super Bowl and who was playing better heading in. Forget that the Steelers were favorites, that we won with a mediocre effort, and that your head coach managed the game like Helen Keller with a headset.

We don't need an apology. We'd prefer you set down the cappuccino and took a nice deep swig of reality, Ted.

The better team won, and it wasn't a gift. What we really see is that Seattle is a town so miserable for a sports title - of any kind - that they'll grasp at any last straw to keep the dream alive. Maybe this year, fellas.