EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. -- For as long as the Steelers have been run by a Rooney, or at least for as long as this remarkable run of three head coaches spanning a half-century and a half-dozen Super Bowl championships, they've somewhat surprisingly never acknowledged any semblance of a continuous calendar.
When one year ends, the other begins, and never the two shall intertwine.
"Each season," as Mike Tomlin's spoken countless times, "is its own journey." And it's an approach that, intentionally or not, echoes that of Chuck Noll and Bill Cowher before him. The undercurrent wisdom has been that there's nothing anyone can do about what's come before, and any energy expended on it could be better invested in the now.
This journey, of course, opens here tonight. It's the 88th journey for Pittsburgh's iconic football franchise. Kickoff's at 7:10 p.m. against the Giants at MetLife Stadium. The big city's right across the river. The bright lights will shine for a big audience, with the nation watching.
Needless, to say, this journey will be like no other. When both teams emerge from their respective tunnels, there'll be 82,500 empty gray seats, a quarter of which could symbolize the 23,873 deaths in New York City attributed to coronavirus. Additionally, there'll be intense attention on both teams' actions related to racial injustice when the national anthem's played. It's an unprecedented time, a trying and tormenting time, and it'll be on full view all the way through.
But it'll also be a journey like no other for these Steelers, I dare say, in this way: It might be their last, best chance for the foreseeable future.
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My goodness, this roster's got it all, doesn't it?
It's got a wealth of experience with a matching amount of young excellence. It's got the NFL's most rabid defense with what's certain to be its most improved offense, if only for the return of a healthy, palpably motivated Ben Roethlisberger. It's got game-breakers on both sides of the ball. It's got skill and speed and smarts. It's got character in every corner of the room, and it's got the chemistry to make that count.
What it doesn't have, on so many levels, is time.
Think of Ben and Maurkice Pouncey.
If Ben's the heart of the offense, Pouncey's the soul. And whichever it is, they're inseparable, openly speaking of linking their career spans to each other. Yet again in the past week, Ben spoke of the man he'll frequently liken to a brother, "I know Maurkice is going to be out there, and that's all that matters to me. He's my comfort blanket."
Funny, but after the Steelers were eliminated from playoff contention in 2019, Pouncey spoke this about having missed Ben most of the season: "You don’t really appreciate something until it’s gone and he’s not there every single day throwing touchdown passes. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not taking anything away from the other quarterbacks. It’s just that Ben was that comfort blanket for all of us."
Yeah. That.
Well, Ben's 38, and Pouncey's 31, which actually makes the latter far older in football years since he's a center. Ben's been all exuberant for months, glowing about his surgically repaired arm, about his energy, even about his fire to stick it to his critics. Where once he'd make an annual event of announcing if he'd keep playing, he now openly foresees flinging into his 40s. Pouncey ... won't be doing that. In fact, I've got it on good authority this might well be it for him.
We can't know that now. Any individual's decision is his or her own. But we also can't know what Ben's reaction to that might be. Or how Ben might handle another injury. Or some stunning setback in performance.
We do know that they're both here, both ready to go. Just as we know where that ranks on the list of the Steelers' blessings right now.
Think of JuJu Smith-Schuster and James Conner.
They're the team's dual Gordian knot on offense. If one or both has a great 2020, meaning at their respective 2018 levels, then one or both could be gone through free agency, priced out of the Steelers' cap range with so many stars to keep and more deferred bonuses than any team in the NFL. And if one or both has a lousy 2020, meaning at their respective 2019 levels, then one or both could be gone because ... you know, they wouldn't be wanted.
Optimal scenario: Both excel now, and the future be damned.
If it's true, as Rod Woodson recently opined, that JuJu's more motivated by fame than by any football outcome -- and I've had my doubts on that front from his rookie year -- then this is the pivotal year in the young man's career from that standpoint alone. A one-year dip can happen to anyone, particularly when he's a wide receiver without his quarterback. But if it happens again, the cyber-egg from his golden goose will be all over his face. He'll be embarrassed as never before. And with his personality, that might sting even more than the money he'll miss.
Conner's personality is 180 degrees different, but his situation won't be if he can't stay off the sideline. In his case, it's his pride that'll hurt even more than the money he'll miss.
Both have every conceivable motivation to rise back up right now.
Think of T.J. Watt and Bud Dupree.
"If you stop Watt, you've got Dupree coming from the other direction," was how the Giants' young quarterback, Daniel Jones, worded it this past week. And he'll have to live it tonight.
They're the best bookend edge rushers in the league, and that statement no longer requires qualifying it with Watt carrying Dupree. Not after 2019. Oh, Watt was still the superior performer, but Dupree wreaked so much of his own havoc that he achieved the once-unthinkable and cornered the Steelers' front office into absolutely, positively needing to offer him the franchise tag of $15.828 million to keep him through 2020.
Get a good look. Enjoy it.
Watt's current four-year contract expires after 2021, for which he'll be paid $10.089 million and after which he'll be paid ... my God, who knows?
Whatever it is, he'll get it. And whatever he gets, he'll be worth it. He'll turn only 26 next month, he's been an exemplary player and person, and every move made in the interim must be made with keeping Watt at the forefront. Expect that to be navigated and completed next summer.
But not Dupree. Although Kevin Colbert's continued to insist he'd prefer to keep Dupree in Pittsburgh for the rest of his career, there's a colossal gap between hoping and offering a contract, and the latter isn't forthcoming. In fact, the only real action taken on this front to date was to draft Alex Highsmith in the third round, then to watch Highsmith impress all through training camp.
Maybe Highsmith will be that other bookend someday. But maybe he won't. What's here is here right now.
Think of Minkah Fitzpatrick and Joe Haden.
Picking up on the pattern here?
Good, because this one counts, too. If Fitzpatrick's the first-team All-Pro who represents the future of this secondary, then Haden's every bit his match as the ... present/past? I'm trying to phrase this respectfully, as it's not Haden's fault he was stuck for seven years in Cleveland. Even a casual observer could tell then that he was a star, that he'd have been a star if employed anywhere else.
Fitzpatrick's 23. Haden's 31. Their window together -- never mind having a superlative corner opposite Haden in Steven Nelson -- has to be considered severely limited, quite possibly to the coming season. And just as quickly as they came together, arriving in separate, stunning acquisitions, that's how quickly this secondary could disintegrate to what it was for the better part of the past decade.
Not now. They're here right now.
Think of Devin Bush and Cam Heyward.
Really, it's the same dynamic.
They're both in the middle of the defense up front and, if not for Heyward's humongous presence, particularly in stopping the run, then Bush is tasked doubly with having to hang closer to the line and, thus, less free to engage in coverage and all else he offers. Bush is just 22, entering his pivotal second year, expected by everyone -- himself included -- to take a big stride. Heyward's coming off the season of his life, fresh off signing the contract of his life, but he's 32, and he can't stay at his current peak forever.
Whatever. Right now is right now.
Think of Tomlin and Colbert.
Why omit them, right?
Whatever one thinks of either the head coach or GM, in a given context, give them this: The assembly of talent at hand is their doing. In concert. They conduct their drafts together. They scout together. They interview together. They plan together. They've done everything together.
What if this is it for one or both?
Colbert's now signing one-year contracts, for those who haven't noticed, and it's not because he's looking to leave Pittsburgh. It's because, at 63, he can't be certain how much more of his life he'd like to invest in football. Maybe he's wishing for one final ring. Maybe he's got something firmer in mind.
Tomlin's signed through 2021 and, for as long as he's been here, he's still only 48. But football head coaching years are hard years.
Bill Cowher, now 63, stepped down as the Steelers' coach after 15 years at age 49. In 2015, he told Rolling Stone magazine that he made that decision largely because of the immense pressure of holding that position in Pittsburgh: "I didn't really like where I was going with myself. I'd walk around a lot with my head down. Wouldn't make eye contact. I felt like a little bit of a prisoner. You'd go into hotels and you don't go down to the lobby because you'd get recognized. It's just not a good place to be. I didn't mind the hours, but I didn't like the lifestyle. I won a championship and I just felt like I got to the point where I couldn't go anywhere. It's like living in a fishbowl. I look at what I have now, and it's living normal."
Try to imagine that. In our city.
I've heard Tomlin's not far from the end, though I couldn't possibly corroborate any such thing with the man himself. And I believe that. I really do. He's not a simple man. He's got plenty of passions, not least of which is his family. I could very much see him following Noll and Cowher in stepping completely away for a long spell, finding other reasons to smile. And relax.
But that isn't the current reality. Not right now.
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Good luck getting any of these guys to talk about any of this stuff, actually. In a more introspective mood, one might get a compelling macro assessment of the Steelers from Pouncey or Heyward, even Ben on a rare occasion. But for the most part, they're wired the way Tomlin wants them to be wired, and that's as micro as possible: Beat the man across from you. Tonight.
Ask Watt about becoming a leader of this defense, as happened in the past week, and he'll reply with something about studying old Dallas tapes to prepare for the Giants' offensive schemes under Jason Garrett.
Ask Fitzpatrick about the defense's year-over-year improvement, and he'll reply with something about New York's promising backfield.
Ask Conner about all his injuries, all that he might do to avoid more, and he'll reply, "Yeah ... the only thing on my mind is this game. Monday night."
That's fine. That's what's best. The sport's complex enough without connecting all kinds of seemingly unrelated intricacies.
But here's hoping that somewhere in these Steelers' underlying collective consciousness, there's an understanding that the opportunity in front of them is no less extraordinary than the environment in which it'll occur. And potentially far more filling.