Let the Beatings Begin!!!
Steelers Fever Exclusive Editorial
|Wednesday, October 24th, 2012
By Tiger Rowan
Steelers Fever Columnist
A few weeks ago, I lamented about how my joyful cheers of “Wallace!!!” had become bitter, angry screams of “Wallace!?!” Well, in the Steelers-Bengals game on Sunday night, I think that I finally reached my boiling point.
The reactions of the people with whom I was watching the game, were that Mike Wallace was simply not trying, or that Wallace looked confused, or that he was not watching the ball into his hands... My response was simple, yet poignant: “Let the beatings begin!!!”
For those of you who in the dark, in Bill Cosby’s stand-up album, entitled “Himself”, there is a segment where he talks about his children taking their baths. Cosby avers that his children have brain damage. Every single night, Cosby would plead with his offspring to behave. Yet, every single night, these “brain damaged children” would refuse his advice, while choosing instead to play around in & fight during their showers… until Cosby’s wife would grab and yard-stick, and declare, “Let the beatings begin!!!”
Simply, I feel the same way about Wallace.
Like the brain damaged Cosby children, Wallace seems to refuse to get better, and instead, continues to drop easy passes. Sure, even Jerry Rice dropped a pass or two. In fact, Santonio Holmes dropped a pass right before he made the game-winning touchdown reception in SuperBowl XLIII. Drops happen. But, when they do occur, the receiver generally makes up for it (as Santonio did)… or, at the least, the receiver looks remorseful. Conversely, Wallace not only seems to be getting worse, he does not even seem to care.
After the first drop & subsequent blasé response, I wanted him beaten. By the final drop of the night (was it three? four? fifteen drops?), I was wishing for some sort of “I Know My Name is Steven” type of mental & physical anguish to be laid upon Wallace. Yes, I was that “done” with him.
After some calming down, and stepping back towards reality, I came up with the simplest solution: on the plane-rides after games, Wallace would have to sit in the seat right next to James Harrison. Three hours of that icy glare… oh man!!!... that would indeed do the trick. And, for home games, Wallace would carpool with Harrison… right past a strip mine.
Wallace, we fans want to like you; we want to root for you; and, we think that you could potentially be of the Lynn Swann ilk. But, with that said, you had better change your ways, and fast, because we are growing tired of your lackluster play. We WILL move on, with or without you… and more importantly, so will The Rooneys.