You weren't ready for it.
Don't pretend, all you Stellars and Iggles fans, that you were seriously prepared for the impact an all-Pennsylvania Super Bowl would have had on this campus, located 150 miles from one city and 200 from the other.
I know you wanted it. I know you could almost taste it, bubbling with secret glee as the two teams crept through the playoff brackets, getting closer and closer to each other, talking up your respective teams with increasing volume as they continued to advance.
You thought a Pittsburgh-Philadelphia Super Bowl would be the greatest thing in your lifetime. Instead, you're getting arguably football's best team (St. Louis) against its hottest (or, if you're from Pittsburgh or Oakland, the luckiest), New England.
Believe me, it's better this way.
For Eagles fans, never mind Pittsburgh, the shock that your team was even in the game would have been great enough. The Birds have broken our, er, your hearts a countless number of times over the years, especially during the playoffs. If Andy Reid's boys could have somehow mustered up one more score and knocked off the seemingly invincible Rams in last week's NFC Championship game, you'd be wearing your Donovan McNabb jerseys for the sixth consecutive day right now, gladly bearing the stench and the green face paint in your eye as the price of pride.
And to all you Pittsburghians. . .yeah, yeah, I know, you weren't at all surprised when Kordell Stewart resurrected his career and led the Steelers to the AFC's best record and a conference championship game in their own backyard for the fourth time in eight years.
And yes, I know you were still smarting from the Flyers' seven-hour overtime victory over your beloved Pens in the 2000 NHL Playoffs, (and may still be stewing from Tuesday's overtime Philly win) and knew that the Steelers pounding the Eagles would ease some of your pain.
But it just would have torn Happy Valley apart. Here are a few hypothetical examples of what Super Bowl Sunday would have been like, on and off campus:
Scene 1: Brumbaugh Hall. Ten minutes before kickoff. Half the third floor is pure Pittsburgh, guzzling "pop" or Iron City and proclaiming that Terry Bradshaw is the greatest analyst in history. The other half is straight outta Philly, yo (well, it's about 20 minutes away, actually). They've been chanting "E-A-G. . ." for the past three hours, stopping only to boo Stewart, Pittsburgh coach Bill Cowher, the officials, the girl singing the national anthem and Santa Claus (he tossed the coin and the Steelers won).
Troy Edwards runs the kick back 80 yards to the Philadelphia 12-yard line, and immediately the entire floor erupts in equally loud shouts of elation and misery. Someone inevitably professes "Here we go Steel-ers, here we go!!" (clap, clap) which is rebutted by the nearly-as-clever "F*** THE STEEL-ERS!!" (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap). Tempers and beverage cans fly, and before the first 30-second, $12-million commercial for an online investment company has finished, a full-out fisticuffs has broken out. . .
Scene 2: The Sports Café. Midway through the second quarter. The Eagles are starting to respond after diving into a 14-0 hole. McNabb has already thrown one touchdown pass to Chad Lewis, and the Birds are driving in Pittsburgh territory. The cascade of foam pouring forth from the taps behind the bar is no match for what's flying out of Cowher's mouth, and patrons from all sides react.
"SIT DOWN COW-HER!!" (more semi-synchronized clapping), rant those clad in green. Steelers fans quickly rise to the defense of their leader, who is still being shown spewing expletives, by screaming "How many Super Bowls have yinz won?" Two tables rise to their collective feet, and a member of the staff comes over to break it up, or at least move things outside. However, a burly, surly patron wearing a Duce Staley jersey two sizes too small accuses him of being a Pittsburgh fan, and another melee ensues. . .
Regardless of who would have won in New Orleans, we all would have lost here in University Park. So on Sunday, when Kurt Warner threads a needle to Torry Holt for his eighth touchdown of the day, just yawn, sip your drinks, munch on wings and thank the football gods Pennsylvania's two teams won't be butting heads on the last football Sunday of the season.
And start rooting for them to get there next year.
