On a rural stretch of the straight-line, flat-line I-71 highway that connects Columbus to Cincinnati, there's forever been a handmade billboard blaring the message, 'HELL IS REAL,' presumably in recognition of Marvin Lewis' two decades of meritorious service to the art of bad football at the far end of the route.
And there've been trips, I'll admit, where it's felt prescient on a lot of levels, ranging from Vontaze Burfict's raging persona and Pacman Jones' raging intellect, to fans raining beer bottles on Ben Roethlisberger while on a medical cart, to a sentiment that Marcus Gilbert once magnificently summed up as, 'Man, I just hate this f---ing place' ... to one scene, in all seriousness, that none of us should ever forget.
Whether or not hell's really real, we can all rest assured that there's a reasonable facsimile here in the surface world.
At the same time, hell can take on many forms for many minds. And I'm probably safe in suggesting that, on this particular weekend, with Pittsburgh's beloved Steelers opening their 90th NFL season against the Bengals at renamed but still-repugnant Paycor Stadium, the purest form would be a Sunday filled with scenes like this:
Oh, absolutely I'm going there again.
How could I not?
How could anyone not?
Hey, I tried this week. I really did. I appreciated the three-man quarterback battle that wound up with the most sensible order for the moment -- Mitch Trubisky, then Kenny Pickett, then Mason Rudolph -- and appreciated all the more that it played out on merit. I got a little stoked at imagining how the football world's about to react to the real public unveiling of George Pickens. I saw so very much to like about Chase Claypool in the slot, and I suspect others will, too. I'm eager for the second-year uprising of Najee Harris. And in general, I feel like I'm more bullish than most on this justifiably confident defense.
I even attempted to concoct concern about other issues specific to this opponent, notably that of Joe Burrow and all those Ja'Marr Chase types vs. a reformulated secondary in Week 1.
Which is to say nothing of the alternate threat presented by Joe Mixon that, all too often, can become the primary threat, as I broached after practice Thursday with Chris Wormley:
"He's the guy they go to in those weighty downs," the big man replied. "When it's short-yardage, goal-line, those plays that mean a lot, those four-point swings when it comes to a field goal vs. a touchdown. The last two games we played against them, they ran the ball on us."
Sure did. In the Bengals' two-game sweep in 2021, one in which they outscored the Steelers, 65-20, all Mixon did was carry 46 times for, um, 255 yards. As such, they could've won both those games with a cardboard cutout of Andy Dalton under center.
"Look, we've spent this whole offseason focused on trying to stop the run," Wormley continued. "We've talked about it, practiced it, brought guys in ... it's time to put our mouths where our money is."
So true.
Also, so sadly immaterial as compared to the other side of the same trench.
Sorry, I'm sure it'll sound repetitive, but this team's offensive line is a one-issue candidate in an Eastern European dictatorship's election. There's nowhere to hide from it, and I fear there'll be nowhere to run, either. Meaning for Najee. Or to pass. Or to do anything. Because it all goes kablooey without at least a few ticks on the clock to create something.
Case in point: The Steelers love Trubisky's ability to extend the play via play-action or by rolling right or even left. (Same for Pickett, by the way, on the latter count.) They love even more his natural penchant for tucking and running, without treating it as some grisly second choice. The Matt Canada offense, at its most ambitious, has a whole lot of sideways to it, and I don't even mean that in the derisive sense. There's a lot of spread, a lot of sweeps, a lot of student-body this way or that way.
Thing is, all that involves blocking, at the very least, at a competent level.
Tell me, please, where that's been witnessed. All through 2021, all through the summer, and all through all three preseason games, it's been borderline catastrophic, with the lone exception being the exhibition in Jacksonville that was beyond catastrophic.
For that matter, tell me where it'll improve.
Dan Moore's been the worst of all starters, and all he's responsible for is protecting Trubisky's blind side. He showed spurts as a rookie in 2021, but those don't come close to mitigating the minuses to date. And, if anything, his preseason seemed far more a regression than any maturation.
I like this kid. I'm comfortable sharing that. He might say as many right things as anyone in that room, and he, maybe more than anyone, comes across as a potential leader of the line. But, as Mike Tomlin's fond of stating, you can't lead from the back. There's got to be matching performance.
Kevin Dotson's been so negligible at left guard that, even after beating out Kendrick Green in a battle that was the polar opposite of the quarterbacks' in terms of competition, Tomlin couldn't bring himself to speak a positive syllable, saying of Dotson's pyrrhic victory: "He played better than KG. It's as simple as that."
That was this week. On opening week.
That's terrifying.
Mason Cole and James Daniels are the two free-agent acquisitions, and they've been ... mostly fine, at least after Daniels' bizarre, all-backward debacle in Jacksonville. There's modest potential at center and right guard, but the emphasis there would be on the adjective.
And at right tackle, in what might be the scariest of circumstance of all, Chuks Okorafor was held out of practice Thursday because of a back injury after being a full participant the previous day. Now, that might be precautionary -- what'll matter most is whether or not he can partake in the final practice Friday -- but it'd better be. If Okorafor can't go, his replacement's going to be Trent Scott, a five-year NFL veteran of 53 games whose services the Steelers valued so much that ... they cut him off the 53-man roster just 10 days ago.
This is it, my friends. And there are no other its. As much as it's fun to debate Mitch vs. Kenny and whatever else, this is the it that will define all other its.
And what might sting the most is that, at least from this perspective, this roster's pretty intriguing otherwise. There are dynamic players, most of them young enough to have higher ceilings. Both sides of the ball. It could be a competitive group, and I really believe that.
Conditionally.
For now, it'll be block or bust. Heaven or ... that place down the road.
