Pittsburgh Holds Its Breath

The city of Pittsburgh and Steeler fans like me are holding our breath this morning:

Not 200 yards from the emergency entrance to Mercy Hospital sits Ryan's Auto Glass, its frontage on Forbes Avenue displaying an array of helpful information.

"Most windshield repairs," one sign says, "take about 20 minutes."

Good to know, but how long does it take to repair a quarterback who hits a windshield, spider-webs it like a 240-pound brick, and then bounces off the pavement?

That was, essentially, the sickening question that flattened the city's quotidian rhythm into a grim daze just before noon yesterday and never really let up.

	Al Bello, Getty Images for STM Sports

Big Ben Roethlisberger, almost as though he were carrying out the inevitable cataclysm foreshadowed by amateur clairvoyants from Bill Cowher to Terry Bradshaw, plowed his motorcycle into a car on his way to the Steelers' offices, turning himself into a helmetless projectile at the mercy of auto glass, concrete, and providence.

Roethlisberger became the poster child for small college players who dream of making it in the big leagues when he became an instant star and Super Bowl winning quarterback in only his second year in the league. Now, after shattering his jaw and losing his teeth, he becomes a poster child for those who drive motorcycles without helmets. Let's hope he heals well enough to play football soon. And lets hope that he puts on a helmet the next time he gets on his Harley. And... let's hope the lesson that this can happen to even the big football stars sinks in with a few others who think that helmets are a nuisance because they mess up their hair.