When it comes to the playoffs, Steeler fans get super serious about their superstitions. Especially the ones involving black and golden cats.
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| Darrell Sapp, Post-Gazette Steelers fans cheer and sing along to "Here We Go" during a rally yesterday in the courtyard of the Allegheny County Courthouse, near the Terrible Tree. The Steelers play the Broncos in the AFC Championship Game tomorrow in Denver. Click photo for larger image.
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For games, she said she has several must-do rituals -- go to church beforehand, place Terrible Towel over right shoulder, eat sourdough pretzels -- "but one of them is strange."
Her husband doesn't even know this, but she has a miniature Riddell Steelers helmet that fits her black cat, Angus, "perfectly. I put it on his head before the games start for good luck. It doesn't have to stay on long, but every time I have put it on his head, the Steelers have won."
She also holds the helmet in the air when the Steelers are in the Red Zone. "It gives them power to score."
And when the enemy team is about to kick a field goal, "I cover my face with the mini helmet and look through the holes, willing the kicker to miss." Yes, she did that in the last seconds of last Sunday's game.
So that's why the Colts' usually superb Mike Vanderjagt missed!
Laugh if you want, but don't discount how life-or-death Steeler fanatics all over the country believe what they do, or don't do, can help, or hurt, their team.
Remember this season's second game vs. Cincinnati? The Steelers lost because of the black-and-gold banner hanging in front of the Wood family's house in Mt. Lebanon. Well, it could have been the banner's fault, so Ken Wood ordered it put away -- until the Steelers win a Super Bowl.
Yes, it had waved for wins.
"That's the illogic of it all," said his wife Lell Wood, who also reported that their daughter, Margaret, "is banished and has to stay upstairs during the game."
The 18-year-old's presence was bad mojo more than once this season. When she slipped down last week to get something to drink, that's when the Colts scored, said her Mom, so banished she is again this Sunday.
You think the actual Steelers have to do a ton of preparation?
The more fans you hear from, the more it boggles the mind how much thought they put into this stuff.
We're not just talking having to wear, or not wear, a certain shirt or jersey (new or tattered, washed or unwashed), or an entire ensemble including socks and underwear. Mexico City's Jorge G. Dom?nguez wears his team jersey only when they play away; for home games, he wears clothing of the enemy's colors.
We're not talking just arranging the Terrible Towel and other good luck charms on the TV or mantle shrine just so. Or sitting in the same spot, even if it's on the basement floor. Or not making or accepting phone calls.
Those all are garden variety -- but no less critical -- routines among those shared with us by nearly 400 Steelers fans, many of them from McMillen and Wife's Steelers Extravaganza Web site, www.mcmillenandwife.com.
Some people put their bodies on the line.
"Now this is going to sound disgusting," said Johnny Schmidt, 31, of New Matamoras in eastern Ohio. And he's right: Besides not eating or going to the bathroom for the entire game "under any circumstances," he leaves the same rub of snuff in his mouth for the entire game.
Without spitting.
He spit during the game when the Steelers lost to the Denver Broncos by one point in 1989. He's not spitting Sunday.
He knows his habit is unhealthy and he has kicked it except for game days. "Right now it's borderline making me sick because I have quit and I don't want to do it any more. But there's no way I'm screwing with it."
There's no way Vienna, Va.'s Jonathan Thatcher is going to miss eating a bratwurst Sunday. The Steelers this season have been 2-and-5 when he doesn't and 11-and-0 when he does.
This being such a crucial game, Mt. Lebanon's Tara Boyts will power up with her Black and Gold Breakfast: Scrambled eggs and burned toast. "The toast doesn't taste too great, but having the Black and Gold colors is the most important thing!"
Bob Freiberg, of Youngstown, Ohio, has just one rule: His wife cannot put the Steelers bandana on their Great Dane because it makes the team choke. "I've never really believed in superstitions but I've become fanatical about that bandana." On the other hand, Allan Long, of Gurnee, Ill., swears his dog transferred his gold bandana to a stuffed monkey, so he put a black one on the dog and is leaving both that way: "I believe in the power of the bandana."
Carnegie's John Wozniak does a whole series of things, including, during the opposing team's third and fourth downs, chanting, "No bagel, no bagel, no bagel. ..." He said it "may seem silly to most people, but to me it is a little part that I can do to support the best team in the NFL!"
Some superstitions get passed down through generations. Others can pop up just like that. The Robinson family -- Sam, Lori and Jordyn -- of Edinburg, Lawrence County, won't take down their Christmas tree because the Steelers have been winning since they put it up.
Growing playoff beards? Just like the players, some fans do that. New Kensington's Debbie Valore refuses to shave her legs, something she stopped doing to help stop this season's three-game losing streak. She's glad she won't see her new boyfriend again until Valentine's Day.
Some superstitions are quite complicated. Just ask Andrea Hoffman, of Newport News, Va. "It used to be easy, what I would do to prepare," she said. "I would wear the same black underwear every game."
Her new thing is "the unlucky hat," or so the old relic was renamed after her dad loaned it to her for the second Bengals game that the Steelers lost. Since then, she's acquired key chains for opposing teams, and has found success clipping the opponent's chain to the hat the week leading up to the game. "The unluckiness transfers to that team and they lose!" she explained, adding with a smiley icon, " It's worked so far."
Some superstitions are more subtle, or religious, or both. Huron, Ohio's, Barbara Palinski has been making playoff-time trips to the cemetery to visit her mother, whom she buried eight years ago with a Steelers blanket. She leaves little trinkets and said, "Hey, if it works, why not!"
Kimberly, Wis., resident Rosalind Heid has to wear her Steeler emblem pendant and a special crucifix. "And when things get really tight, I hang onto them both, and PRAY!" Her sister always calls from West Mifflin to make sure her inflatable Steeler is up in the yard, too.
Rich Roberts, a Plum native living in Omaha, Neb., said that when he watches the playoffs on national TV broadcasts, he turns down the sound and relaxes by reading the Bible and another study book, and, "Every 40 seconds I remind myself to look up at the screen for the start of the next play." He's 2-for-2 and wanting to go 4-for-4.
"The crazy thing about these superstitions is that we all think they work," he said. "We're afraid to deviate or else we'll feel like we lost it for the team."
Still, sometimes, just like a wily defensive coordinator, you have to try something new -- something never-before-seen.
Jason McNees, of Alexandria, Va., displayed in his house his Terrible Towel that he took to last year's AFC championship game, which the Steelers lost, of course, to the Patriots. Six weeks ago, when the Steelers were losing and looked like they might not make the playoffs, he decided to exorcise those demons by having his tabby cat, Lucky, grab it with its six-toed paws. Paws, he figures, with extra "thumbs."
"I've done it every week since and so far so good!" he reported. "Could be something to it."
One from The Thumbs.