PITTSBUGH – BLACK AND GOLD

I was raised in Pittsburgh and one son and his family still live in a suburb there, so I know the city.

Two things are true about being a Pittsburgher: You love the Steelers and you talk funny.

Most people think your first cry at birth is a result of a slap by the doctor to get you started in life. But no; it is the Pittsburgh Vaccine which is a shot in your little bitty rearend that ensures that you will forever love the Pittsburgh Steelers, the Penguins, and the Pirates. Let’s include Pitt in that mix, too. This happens before you are cleaned up and handed to your loving mother. That’s gotta be it. How else can we explain Pittsburgh’s devotion to their home teams wherever they live or travel. It’s the Steeler Nation.

And, Yes, we talk funny. “Pen” sounds the same as” Pin”. “When” and “Win” are the same. “Warsh” meaning” wash”. We don’t do a good job with pronunciation of short vowels; they are sort of a sliding sound, all much the same.

This is such a distinct mark of a Pittsburgher’s speech, that when I was living and teaching in Sydney, Australia, an American father picked up on it. “You’re from Pittsburgh,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He knew it from my accent. Another time, in a Florida consignment store, I was chatting about a purchase I wanted to make, when the owner asked, “Are you from Pittsburgh?” So, yes, we talk funny.

THE STEELER NATION

Several years ago, on a Sunday during football season, I needed to run some local errands. When I parked the car at the shopping center, I noticed folks walking to and from their cars were all dressed in black and gold, Steeler and Pittsburgh colors.

In the grocery store, all clerks were sporting black and gold. Then I returned a pair of pants to the department store. Yes, all clerks were wearing black and gold. The Steelers were playing Cleveland that afternoon.

But now I live in Fort Lauderdale and decided not to pay the price for cable TV. So on Sundays, I need to find a place to watch the game.

The first game was the Steelers – Falcons and I found a dive bar which sold alcohol but no food. Yikes, I was hungry but made do with the fruit in some fancy Barbie doll umbrella drink. I forgot to wear black and gold and cowered in the corner, huddled over my drink.

Next week was the Steelers – Broncos game and I chose an upmarket bar with an extensive menu. And extensive crowds. I found the Steeler game screen and settled back to watch. That’s when two young ladies approached me, one on either side. They struck up a conversation beginning with, “I hate men. All men are bastards.” I gulped, stared, and changed the subject. We started chatting about the usual. Where do you live? What do you do? What’s your name. etc etc. Meanwhile, I’m keeping one eye on the game and Steelers are looking good.

Pretty soon a 40 something gentlemen approached, started chatting and bought us all a drink. By now it was almost halftime. Then another few guys joined us, I think because the young girls were attractive. And someone in that group bought everyone a drink.

By this time it’s the 3rd quarter and I ordered something to eat, which arrived promptly. I passed it around to the little circle and everyone nibbled a bit. Then the girls found me a seat at the bar and shoved me toward it. I’m still trying to watch Fields throw the ball.

The two girls stayed with me and the guys hovered around. I started to buy some drinks for my companions, and Lisa, one of the girls, hissed, “No, don’t do that.” She glanced around to make sure nobody twigged to my generosity. She was so vehement, I drew back. She grabbed my bag and hung it on the hooks under the bar.

The girls took care of me and the bartender cheerfully gave my credit card back. Greggie, one of the guys, had picked up my tab.

The Steelers won but the young people didn’t stop chatting and drinking. I slid off the bar stool intending to go home and Lisa grabbed me. “I’ll take you.”

Now I was very, very insistent that she would NOT take me home, that I would walk. She grabbed her phone, took down my number.
“Text me when you get home.” They seemed to think I was drunk and I wasn’t.

I left the bar emerging into sunshine and fresh air and walked the 4 blocks to my place. I texted Lisa that I was safe and thanked her for the good time. She answered with, “Good, We wanted you to enjoy yourself.” And that was the second Steeler game I attended.

The third Steeler game, back to the dive bar, one glass of wine, very few people, many games on TV and I watched Pickens and Co without incident.

The Steelers won again. I cashed out, took my credit card and walked home, pleased with the afternoon.

It wasn’t till noon the next day that I discovered the barmaid gave me the wrong credit card. I was the right color but wrong name.

After straightening out that mess, with no harm done, I decided to watch the next game at my son’s house in Miami. Safer that way. Maybe not as interesting but certainly safer. Hope the Steelers win again.