On The Line: A letter of appreciation to Maurkice

HENDERSONVILLE, Tenn. -- As I sat down at my laptop, I chose to put my phone in Do Not Disturb mode. It’s a nice option when you don’t want the buzz and commotion of the outside world distracting you from an important task. 

I can think of few tasks more important today than choosing the right words to show my appreciation for your career and what you have meant to the Steelers' organization, Maurkice Pouncey. As your brother from another mother, I'm honored you selected me to announce your retirement after 11 seasons, which included nine Pro Bowls and a spot on the Pro Football Hall of Fame's All-Decade Team. 

Not gonna lie, No. 53, I'm getting choked up just typing my thoughts. You waited a month to make your decision final, but we saw you sitting on the bench with Ben after that last game against the Browns, and we all felt a stab of emotion. Two black-and-gold legends sitting side by side. 

Ain't it funny how time slips away?

The brotherhood inside a locker room is sacred. When guys retire they often say they miss the game, but they miss the interaction with teammates even more. It's the barbershop for jocks. You can't find antics and togetherness like that anywhere else. The friendly bets, the heated conversations, the arguments over whose college is better. For 11 years, nobody in that room made our culture stronger than you, 53. You embodied the characteristics of Pittsburgh and the grit of the organization. 

You made five trips to the playoffs and took your place in a distinguished line of Steelers' centers from Mike Webster to Dermontti Dawson to Jeff Hartings. It’s a position that demands a smart and quick-thinking individual. You essentially became a field general right along with Ben Roethlisberger. Every play starts with the center touching the ball, controlling the snap count and communicating with everyone from the head coach to the quarterback to the offensive coordinator. It’s not a position for the weak or fragile.

For No. 53, it was always team first. Even if it meant taking a suspension that night in Cleveland to stand up for Mason Rudolph against Myles Garrett.

The day you walked into the locker room in 2010 as the No. 18 overall pick, you won us over. I remember that first year when we were having OTAs on the South Side and our position coach, Sean Kugler, said to us after practice, “you guys are doing good, great, honestly.” He raised his hand to his nose to signify what level we were at. Then, Coach Kugler added, “but Maurkice is here,” raising his hand above his head. You remained at that level for your entire career, earning two first-team All-Pro nominations in a league that included Nick Mangold, Rodney Hudson, Jason Kelce and Alex Mack.

It was never enough for you to just get the job done. Your effort demanded we all try to rise to your level. One time, I illegally hit an Eagles' defensive player in the back of the legs because I didn’t want to get caught not hustling to the ball during a preseason game. It was worth the fine because I wanted to prove I belonged on the same field, on the same offensive line.  

Even when injury robbed you of almost the entire 2013 season, you were always there for us. In the training room, in the team meetings. That's how much it meant to you. Most guys would have elected to go home and enjoy their days after rehab, but you stayed all afternoon to make sure the job got done. 

Fans don't realize you could have lost a leg. You endured multiple operations so you could be ready for the next season. The training staff with John Norwig, Jon Andino, Sonya Ruef, Daveon Lee helped nurse you back to health. You challenged them along with the team physicians like Dr. Jim Bradley, Dr. Anthony Yates and Dr. Joseph Maroon. You put in all that work while keeping it light and delivering smiles and memories. It's the kind of behind-the-scenes stuff the average person cannot appreciate.

When this past season ended, you and I had a brief conversation through a series of text messages. I wanted you to know what everyone in the organization thinks about you. You are a damn warrior. It was an emotional chat in which you expressed some feelings.  

You mentioned your daughters growing up right in front of your eyes and losing out on some time with them. Those girls had you looking at life decisions differently. Made you consider the little things like surprising them by picking them up at school. The game takes so much from you on a daily basis, it leaves you feeling selfish about the time you take away from the ones you love. Even though you know they understand, it still doesn’t make it better. 

You mentioned losing your off-season workout partner, your twin brother Mike, who's also retiring. The ability to train solo during the summer takes a lot out of you mentally. The grind to push through and still not know if you’re training at a high level because you have no one to prod you and gauge your progress. 

I let you know you had to take care of yourself first. The ability to walk away from such a violent sport after playing it since the age of 5 is a blessing. No one will ever question the manhood of No. 53, who served the franchise so honorably for more than a decade. You gave so much of yourself to so many through your performance and your charitable work in Lakeland, Fla., and Pennsylvania, to say nothing of attending youth football camps run by your teammates throughout the country. 

You were such an influential person during an era of Steelers' football. While it might not have included a seventh Super Bowl, you left the culture and locker room in a better place. So I say, "well done" as you move onto another avenue in your life. You're one of the best to wear a Steelers' uniform, 53. 

Canton awaits you some day, and I'm glad to call you a true friend. You will be known as a football player because of the profession you dominated, but your legacy includes all the people whose lives you impacted from undrafted free agents to Ambassador Dan Rooney. 

Happy retirement, Maurkice Pouncey.