When I was ten years old, growing up in Pennsylvania football country, the Steelers beat the Cowboys in one of the great Super Bowls of all time, on the pounding of Franco Harris and the artistry of Lynn Swan. That kind of thing imprints itself upon you. Last night history seemed to come full circle as we sat before the screens at C.C. O'Brien's with 10-year old Porter screaming at Big Ben, "Throw the ball! No! Throw the ball!" And the hundred yard interception return? Good God, I think Steeler nation was as prostrate at the end as Harrison was.
Porter spent some formative years in Cork where hurling and Man U reigned supreme, and then, since we've been back in the States, we haven't hooked up the TV. So he's football deprived and maybe he won't have developed that section of the brain that is irrevocably susceptible to the sound of helmets clashing and the sight of big men in tights. But, at least for last night's gridiron thriller he was as crazed a Steelers fan as a father could hope for.