• The Land of the Lost

I was in Las Vegas this weekend. This is no place to watch football, Las Vegas. There is no professional football team here, only professional gamblers who watch the games for their own person gain. It is a soulless city completely without loyalty to anything but the almighty coin. The hearts here pump nothing but cold blood between hot cigarettes and exhausting walks to the cashier window. What do they care about the The Steelers? If they picked the 'over' - they won. If they picked The Falcons and the spread, they won. If they bet that The Steelers would have more turnovers than a bakery, they won. They smile, and they giggle to themselves, and they eat gigantic meals at the casino buffet, and they move on. And there I sat post game in my #7 jersey wondering how the Steelers could ever recover from this game - a game I'd called a "must win " - and this ugly 2-4 start. Why did Coach Cowher leave time-outs on the field when we had the ball with a half a minute left in the first half? Why does Santonio Holmes seem to resent actually having to hold onto the football while he's running? Why did Willie Parker run backwards and the hand the ball so politely to a Falcon?

And what about Big Ben? As Ben lay on the ground unconscious, I found myself angrily responding to the peanut gallery. "I guess Ben shouldn't be riding without a helmet," one said. Well, I guess your Dad shouldn't have had sex without a condom. "Oh, this figures, Ben almost killed himself on his motorcycle." Yeah, well good thing he had his Super Bowl ring on to take the brunt of the blow. It saved his life! ...I'm not proud of myself. I was like a possum by the garbage cans with a flashlight in my face.

It certainly was scary as Ben was flat on his back, motionless, and they were flashing three fingers in front of his face saying, "Ben, how many fumbles have we lost so far?" And he quietly mumbled, "Three, I think, unless we also fumbled on this play, then it would be four, I think." "No," the team doctors said, "we didn't fumble. Hines dropped the pass." "Oh!!!" Ben yelped and fell back into his dreamy sleep where The Steelers never lose. I too found myself fallen on the floor in semi-consciousness at the end of OT - my friends waving four fingers in my face saying, "Richard, come back, look at my hand. How many losses do The Steelers have this season?" And I quietly mumbled, "Too many... truly an insurmountable mountain of losses so high that God couldn't get to the other side with a team of Sherpas and a case of Monster Energy Drink." "That's right," my friends answered in relief. "I think he's going to be okay."

As winter approaches, The Steelers certainly need to turn it around. They're this close to becoming The Donner Party of the NFL.

Reports are that Ben isn't as injured at it looked after the double helmet-to-helmet non-penalty-call hit that knocked him out for 5 minutes. He may not play this Sunday against The Haters, and he probably shouldn't, but CB will do fine. The rest of the team, who knows - they need discipline. In fact, this reminds me of a time in high school when my swim coach threatened to bench every guy on the team except one for the next meet. It may be time for Coach Cowher to throw some spit. Bench every damned player except Charlie Batch (24 of 39, 5TD's, 0 INT's). It may be a bit rough on Charlie during defense, but Cowher needs to make a statement.

I would consider heading up to the game since it is in California, but as a matter of personal safety, I make it a habit never to set foot in Oakland.

Until next Sunday as we ride on the river of Black and Gold sadness.

• Big Ben's Color Scheme

Apparently the Steelers coaching staff forgot to help Ben with some of the basics during his early recovery from all of his hospital time. Obviously there were some cobwebs upstairs. After the Steelers crushing victory over the KC Cheats, Roethlisberger said, "I tried throwing to the guys in the black shirts rather than the guys in the white shirts." Certainly, he's found the key. Last week in SD, he was throwing to the guys in the powder blue shirts. Unfortunately next week we are away at Hatlanta (thanks for that one, Tommy Gun) and we'll be back in our white jerseys. So can Ben reverse the strategy in time?? If I were the coach in Atmanta, I'd dress the team in their black uni's just in case. All's fair... Go Ben! Throw to the white jerseys this Sunday! (If a ball hits a ref, we know there's a serious problem.)

On the Troy Polamalu hair pulling incident, I'm surprised it hadn't happened sooner. I personally think that a player's hair shouldn't cover his name or number as part of the uni regulations unless that jersey number is #8 and the name on the jersey is "Maddox" and you're trying not to depress your teammates' will to live. (I would also pass a fan resolution for all of you who have not replaced the "Stewart" nameplate with "Holmes." Please... ) The MNF announcers pointed out last night that even Edrin James of the Cardinals cut his long hair to keep it from making it easier to tackle him. But Troy is a defensive player, so getting tackled isn't really the issue unless he starts to tear it up with interceptions which, now that his shoulder is healing, he no doubt will. I think he should go all the way and wear a cape. Troy's answer about his hair being a target: "I just need to use stronger conditioner," Polamalu said. Is that why he has such split ends? That could also be from over zealous washing. Who knows... He'd better not end up in some stupid Pantene commercial unless it's after a Super Bowl repeat. I say if you want to have the long hair and not get tackled, maybe just run faster.

• Terrell Ownes has 25 Million Reasons to Live

T.O.'s publicist leech, Kim Etheredge, last week explained that the idea that he'd commit suicide was nuts saying that "Terrell has 25 million reasons why he should be alive." Well, let's hope he doesn't get laid off, or the Cowboys don't have to ask their workers to accept a "pay freeze" because of a sudden economic downturn in Texas, or he may find himself mixing supplements again. Has she never seen "It's a Wondeful Life?" (Though, George Bailey really does get bailed out when his friends show up at the end of the movie with enough reasons to live to cover his debts. Plus, he's married to Donna Reed which clouds the whole argument anyhow.)

Now, I'm not one to say that athletes make too much money. I think that professional sports offers a perfect micro study of capitalism, it's successes and its problems. In baseball, the Yankees have the highest paid team in sports and also have the highest revenue take. They own 25% of the championships and spend very little time doing laundry in the basement of their division. In this case it seems the players compete, and the best get paid the most and end up on the best team as much as its roster can accommodate. But sports fans also hate the Yankees for all those reasons. They are "The Evil Empire." Basketball and football have a salary cap agreement which is intended to offer more competitive parody across teams, but roster-wise the reality is that the more talented players still demand very high salaries and the lesser known on the roster get paid as close to the league minimum as possible. So there is a giant chasm between the highest paid athletes and the rest. But the highest paid usually perform far and above the others - as does T.O. - generally carrying the team. That's why they are called the "franchise players" and such. Here in Los Angeles, I don't know what I would do without my sweet, sweet Kobe Show. And athletes will get paid very well as long as tickets are sold. I don't know anyone who can afford them, but they sell out.

In business last year, CEO pay increases averaged over 16% while the regular employee enjoyed an average 1.1% increase. That, to work with Kim Etheredge's logic, gives CEO's 16% more of an already huge bank of reasons to live, and workers - well 1.1% more reasons to hang on. A 1.1% increase to a $50k salary = $550. A 16% increase to $500k is $80,000. (I won't calculate in the millions because my head would explode like the pyrotechnics at a KISS concert.)

All I really know is that for me, I just paid my bills, so I have about 165 reasons to live right now. And if I go out tonight, I'll be coming home with about 140 - that is if I can avoid any of the other not-so-subtle hints that usually come my way suggesting even fewer reasons to live such as that the valet took my parking meter quarters once again, or the restroom at the M Bar has no soap in the dispenser, or some dude keeps elbowing me every time he turns to order something from the bartender.

I'm a typical sports fan, probably like most people to whom Ms. Etheredge is "publicizing" T.O.. What I hope most for Kim Etheredge's sake is that T.O. doesn't get injured (or injure himself) this year because then she'd be out her biggest take on her own reasons to live.

And by the way, this week my money's on the Cowboys. They're favored by 1.5 over the Eagles, and T.O. should be starting. C'mon reasons to live!