If I remember 2001: A Space Odyssey correctly, which I don't think I do because of the chemical composition of my brain at the time I watched it, there were some scenes with some monkeys, and then some scenes with other monkeys. And then there was a very calm computer who seemed to have his shit together, and there were dudes who were boring. And then I was really glad I brought that joint with me. Later, there was booze and some other chemicals and I woke up in the parking lot.
Somewhere in the monkey part, a bunch of monkeys gathers around a big rectangular rock that looked nothing like Raquel Welch and they started hooting and throwing poop at it.
Which brings us to the Pittsburgh Steelers off-season.
There's lots of hooting and poop-throwing among the less-evolved members of the AFC North at this point because the Steelers have continued their grand descent into irrelvance. We thought they jumped the shark last year when Ben Roethlisbonehead bounced his face off an economy-priced monkey transport, but little did we know that the fun was just beginning.
This off-season has provided plenty of opportunities for yinzers to take a break from picking ticks and fleas off the fur of their loved ones and pursue their time-honored passion for mindless grunting at the hands of fate.
I guess the fact that the party was over began penetrating their thick club-resistant skulls when their esteemed leader, Bill Cowher, saw the train heading into the abyss and bailed like a Ratbird linebacker outside a thug center when the shivs come out. Somehow turning the phrase "Nobody say nuthin" into monosyllabic series of grunts, Cowber exited stage southeast, fleeing to the other side of the Applachian Mountains, well out of range of even the best-thrown poop.
Cowher is a yinzer who managed to overcome his Cro-Magnon heritage, largely because of an Cro-Magnon/Human exchange program that let him run around the city of Cleveland largely unrestrained for several years, although he would occasionally have to be shot with tranquilizer darts during kick-offs. After the exchange program ended, Cowher headed off to the City of the Apes, where he was treated with God-like reverance because of his "invention" of the "spoon".
Despite being denser than a neutron star, Cowher managed to see that the unlikely series of events (read: universe-warping luck) which led to a brief opportunity for the yinzers to defile the Lombardi Trophy weren't likely to repeat prior to the return of Halley's Comet.
Oddly enough, Cowher's flight seems to have been a good call, a fact which is slowly dawning on all of Yinzerdom.
A short perusal of Yinzer message boards and web sites quickly reveals the finger-sucking panic which is overtaking the assembled masses at the great confluence of several smelly rivers.
Two things which have heated up yinzers to the point where even the ticks are jumping out of the fur are the wailing at the loss of their demigod and the team's typical deer-in-the-headlights inaction during free agency.
The former is being led by resident weep-master Hines Ward, the ever-smiling and hyper-emotional lunkhead who finds his star falling at lightspeed:
"We really don't know what the situation is, but if it came to that point where it was about the money and he was right back into coaching for $6, $7 million (a year) it would probably be kind of disappointing to the guys that he left behind on the team," Ward said recently. "If it was a money issue," Ward said of Cowher leaving the Steelers, "then that would probably be more of a letdown to all of the players."
Waaaaaaaaaah!
I love it.
The irony is tasty. Positively lip-smacking good. That Ward held out for more money himself at various points seems to be completely lost on all of yinzerdom.
Of course, the mouth-hanging-open dull stare that the team exhibits this time of year has drawn the attention of the local simians.
In response, the garlic-breathing troglodytes first ponder the many things the team should do in free agency and then contrast that to the yearly case of the stupids the team seems to suffer.
Of course, then the rationalization begins, as the locals try to convince themselves that falling from the Super Bowl pedastal to 8-8 while losing their head coach is all part of a brilliantly conceived strategy, which comes to life when the team signs a mediocre back-up offensive lineman.
If that isn't enough to send the chuckle-meter into the red, you can also read peripatetic grunting over notions like lusting after Reuben Droughns, getting schooled by the Niners over a punter (of all things), ceding the RFA chase to the Browns, pondering the Steeler destruction soon to be wrought by the Browns next #1 pick, and bemoaning the Browns signing of Antwan Peek.
If you like monkeys, and you don't mind the smell at the zoo, this is a great time of year.