If you have a few minutes, this is worth the read.
From a paper in OHIO
Here is Steve's column from the Super Bowl itself....
Headline: One for the heart
Subhead: Steelers finally get a ring for the thumb, but gain much more than that
DETROIT - Saturday night at his team's hotel, Seattle coach Mike
Holmgren showed his players the money.
To be precise, he showed them $73,000 in singles. Huge stacks of $1 bills, representing the winner's share that each player would receive if the Seahawks won Super Bowl XL.
The players went wild, screaming and high-fiving each other at the sight of all that cash.
It was an inspirational tactic by Holmgren, and there was nothing wrong with that. Money is nice. Apparently some people even find it a motivator to work hard. Others in this society actually seem to enjoy showing off how much money they have, if you can believe that.
Yet, even after the Pittsburgh Steelers moved in and grabbed the loot for themselves by winning the Super Bowl yesterday at Ford Field, there was not one word to be heard in the champions' locker room about money.
There was no pile of singles laying around, nor was there a crisp stack of 730 benjamins awaiting each player at his locker. Not a red cent in sight.
There was no need to even think about money after this game.
Pittsburgh would have played this one for free.
For the Steelers this Super Bowl was about respect and validation,
dedication and determination.
It was about blood, sweat and tears.
Especially tears.
When Hines Ward openly cried in the days following last season's loss to the New England Patriots in the AFC Championship Game, a region's collective heart broke for him. We felt his pain. His teammates shared it with him.
Ward was filled with sorrow over the shattered dreams of the team and especially for the potential end of the career of Jerome Bettis, who was moving perilously close to retirement without ever getting to play in a Super Bowl. He was afraid that day might never come.
With time and nurturing, though, broken hearts heal.
And become stronger than ever.
Backed by a promise from quarterback Ben Roethlisberger that the
Steelers would get to the Super Bowl this year, Bettis decided to return for one more season and the whole team rallied around him. A commitment was made among them and a bond formed between them. Out of their pain grew a sense of resolve.
Though it could not be seen at the time, something timeless was growing from within that locker room.
The heart of a champion.
The day that they feared might never come arrived yesterday ... and Hines Ward cried once again.
When he finally found his way back to his locker, after holding the
Lombardi Trophy and being named Super Bowl MVP, Ward bowed his head in his hands and wept.
He wept tears of respect and validation, dedication and determination.
He wept for Bettis, who is now retiring as the champion that he is. He wept for coach Bill Cowher, who will never again be accused of not being able to win the big one. He wept for the Rooney family, for finally getting their fifth Super Bowl title after a generation of heartbreak.
He wept for his mother, the inspiration in his life.
He wept for you, the fans he adores so much.
Ward certainly did not weep over the 73 grand that will be coming his way soon. Not because that kind of money is mere pocket change for him now, but because he knows what this championship was really all about.
Love.
Love for the game, yes, but more about the love of family and friends.
There may never have been a player in the history of the NFL who wears his heart on his sleeve more than Ward. He plays football with as much passion as anyone has ever played it, and in hyper-masculine sport, he is not afraid to reveal his feminine side.
Ward practically makes crying look manly.
For a franchise that has been committed to being stronger and tougher than the opponent for nearly 40 years, how ironic that it took a public tender moment from a team leader back in January of 2005 to spark the championship fires one year later.
The Pittsburgh Steelers are now a complete team. Offense, defense, special teams. Psychologically, emotionally, spiritually.
And their trophy case is now complete, too. They have one for the thumb at last.
Now they can get to work on the other hand, knowing that their hearts will be filled forever.
From a paper in OHIO
Here is Steve's column from the Super Bowl itself....
Headline: One for the heart
Subhead: Steelers finally get a ring for the thumb, but gain much more than that
DETROIT - Saturday night at his team's hotel, Seattle coach Mike
Holmgren showed his players the money.
To be precise, he showed them $73,000 in singles. Huge stacks of $1 bills, representing the winner's share that each player would receive if the Seahawks won Super Bowl XL.
The players went wild, screaming and high-fiving each other at the sight of all that cash.
It was an inspirational tactic by Holmgren, and there was nothing wrong with that. Money is nice. Apparently some people even find it a motivator to work hard. Others in this society actually seem to enjoy showing off how much money they have, if you can believe that.
Yet, even after the Pittsburgh Steelers moved in and grabbed the loot for themselves by winning the Super Bowl yesterday at Ford Field, there was not one word to be heard in the champions' locker room about money.
There was no pile of singles laying around, nor was there a crisp stack of 730 benjamins awaiting each player at his locker. Not a red cent in sight.
There was no need to even think about money after this game.
Pittsburgh would have played this one for free.
For the Steelers this Super Bowl was about respect and validation,
dedication and determination.
It was about blood, sweat and tears.
Especially tears.
When Hines Ward openly cried in the days following last season's loss to the New England Patriots in the AFC Championship Game, a region's collective heart broke for him. We felt his pain. His teammates shared it with him.
Ward was filled with sorrow over the shattered dreams of the team and especially for the potential end of the career of Jerome Bettis, who was moving perilously close to retirement without ever getting to play in a Super Bowl. He was afraid that day might never come.
With time and nurturing, though, broken hearts heal.
And become stronger than ever.
Backed by a promise from quarterback Ben Roethlisberger that the
Steelers would get to the Super Bowl this year, Bettis decided to return for one more season and the whole team rallied around him. A commitment was made among them and a bond formed between them. Out of their pain grew a sense of resolve.
Though it could not be seen at the time, something timeless was growing from within that locker room.
The heart of a champion.
The day that they feared might never come arrived yesterday ... and Hines Ward cried once again.
When he finally found his way back to his locker, after holding the
Lombardi Trophy and being named Super Bowl MVP, Ward bowed his head in his hands and wept.
He wept tears of respect and validation, dedication and determination.
He wept for Bettis, who is now retiring as the champion that he is. He wept for coach Bill Cowher, who will never again be accused of not being able to win the big one. He wept for the Rooney family, for finally getting their fifth Super Bowl title after a generation of heartbreak.
He wept for his mother, the inspiration in his life.
He wept for you, the fans he adores so much.
Ward certainly did not weep over the 73 grand that will be coming his way soon. Not because that kind of money is mere pocket change for him now, but because he knows what this championship was really all about.
Love.
Love for the game, yes, but more about the love of family and friends.
There may never have been a player in the history of the NFL who wears his heart on his sleeve more than Ward. He plays football with as much passion as anyone has ever played it, and in hyper-masculine sport, he is not afraid to reveal his feminine side.
Ward practically makes crying look manly.
For a franchise that has been committed to being stronger and tougher than the opponent for nearly 40 years, how ironic that it took a public tender moment from a team leader back in January of 2005 to spark the championship fires one year later.
The Pittsburgh Steelers are now a complete team. Offense, defense, special teams. Psychologically, emotionally, spiritually.
And their trophy case is now complete, too. They have one for the thumb at last.
Now they can get to work on the other hand, knowing that their hearts will be filled forever.
