To the Dad at the Gym This Morning...

Listen, man. I know you think it's great that you've got your 10 year old in the gym with you. It's father/son bonding time. You're teaching him about something that's important to you. You think you're preparing him to be a stellar athlete. But you've gotta put a little more thought into this.

First of all, I know you're true motives. You're like reading an open book. You're wearing a Maryland Wrestling t-shirt and an old pair of wrestling shoes, but you don't look like you were a state champ back in the day. You don't have the build and you don't have that unmistakable fire in your eyes. You've got your son decked out in a t-shirt with the slogan "Wrestling: Sanctioned by God" across his back and an image of Jacob wrestling the angel on his chest. You can't live through him, man. It's not fair to build yourself a little state champ because you feel like you didn't work hard enough or want it bad enough when you had the chance. Let me tell you what will happen.

First, you're getting your kid up at 6 am to hit the weights. This is fine for a grown adult, but the kid needs his rest and needs to grow. 10 is the age for learning technique. He's still figuring out his body (and will be for the next 6 or 7 years). He's not sure how to control those limbs, keep them in tight and practiced motions. This is what he needs to be working on as a kid...if he even needs to be practicing as intense a sport as wrestling at all.

Kid's burn out. I could see it in his face, he wasn't enjoying your regimented workout, your constant critique of his form, your pushing him to the edge. He's going to resent the sport, it's going to become a job to him before he ever has the chance to blossom. And worse...he's probably going to resent you.

The way I see it, we each get about 10, maybe 12, years to play the more intense sports (unless we go pro, but at that point it's a job, it's a livelihood). Any more than that 10 years and our bodies start to break down, our intensity starts to wane. I've seen too many great junior high athletes never make it that next step because they just don't love the sport anymore. Don't do that to your kid. Let him play, let him wrestle, let him have fun and be a kid. Don't push him yet. He'll learn the value of hard work in due time. He has years of growing to do and plenty of time to pack on muscle. Just let your kid...well...be a kid.

At least...that's my opinion. Dad at the Gym, I just don't want to see you run your kid away from the sport you love and a sport I love, too. Let him be a kid for now, and maybe someday you can be proud of YOUR SON'S state championship.

Thanks Bill

An era in the history of Pittsburgh sports has come to an end. And as a die-hard yinzer (read: Steeler fan) through and through, I've got to admit I'm deeply, deeply saddened by it. After 15 great, yet sometimes rocky, years as the head coach of the Steelers, 11 winning records, 2 AFC titles, and a Vince Lombardi Trophy, Bill Cowher has decided to resign, hoping to retreat to North Carolina to spend more time with his wife and 3 daughters.

Perhaps more than any other sports team in the nation, the Steelers franchise is their city, is Pittsburgh, personified. Hardworking, blue collar, tough, resilient, proud yet incredibly humble: the Steelers and the Rooney family, like the working class people of the city, cherish those traits like none other. And in his 15 years as head coach Bill Cowher, the jaw-jutting native son who succeeded a legend in former coach Chuck Noll, has typified the organization and the city. He's been a tough, hardworking teacher and coach. Like the city of Pittsburgh, which has tried for years to pull itself out of the failures of industrialization, he's been resilient, enduring a number of losing seasons on the cusp of winning a Super Bowl Championship. He's been humble in the face of immense accomplishments, and even during losing campaigns, proud of the time and effort his players and assistants put in. Above all, Bill Cowher has been respected not only as a solid leader, but also as a man. Players attest that even though a fuming Cowher, with his trademark jaw out and spit flying from his mouth, was usually the first guy to be in your face after a mishap on the field, he was also almost always the first to slap your helmet after a job well done.

Coach Cowher has been the only head coach that I, and a host of other Steelers fans, have known. And while it's almost inevitible that Bill will one day seek another head coaching job in the NFL, I know that my fellow yinzers and I will always hold a special place in our black and gold hearts for him. Earlier today Cowher told members of the media, " You can take the people out of Pittsburgh, but you will never take the Pittsburgh out of the people. I'm one of you." Well Coach, no matter where you go, we'll always be damn glad to have you. Thanks for the memories.