Training Camp See 'n Say
By John Mehno

It's the most anticipated time of the year, easily trumping Christmas since it comes with no obligation for peace or goodwill to anyone.

It's Steelers' training camp, Camp Cowher, as the TV stations quaintly refer to it.

The bucolic campus of St. Vincent College becomes the launching pad for the season. The ugly truth is what happens there on a daily basis matters little to anyone who is not actually employed by the Steelers, but camp has somehow become the region's business.

According to a recent study, "How do you think the Steelers will do?" ranks behind only "Hot enough for ya?" and "What are you, some kind of jagoff?" as the most frequently asked questions in the Greater Pittsburgh area. Someone will ask, so you need to have an opinion. You can't wait for the regular season to start. There isn't even time to wait for the preseason.

The actual camp experience is decadent. People stand idly by and watch others sweat and suffer under the broiling sun, their efforts always subject to a nasty upbraid from a member of the coaching staff. Imagine taking a folding chair and sandwiches to a construction site to watch guys slap shingles on a roof in 95-degree heat - while secretly rooting that the foreman gets in their faces to tell them it's "the sorriest %$#* effort" he's seen in a long time. Makes you feel better about not actually having a job.

Maybe you can't find the time to get to camp. Maybe you simply choose not to go. It can be frightening. The intensity of the contact is scary up close and so is the sight of media lumps in shorts along the sidelines. But even if you can't get to Latrobe, you're going to need an opinion. So you bluff your way through.

When someone asks how the Steelers look this year, the quick wise guy answer ("Big and sweaty") suggests you're a sportswriter and who needs that kind of humiliation?

You're going to need some vague catchphrases to get through the lunch hour conversation. With Dick LeBeau back as defensive coordinator, you can't go wrong with, "I think they're getting the swagger back on defense." Ben Rothlisberger is the first quarterback drafted on the first round in decades. Officially, you "love the kid. He has a chance to be special." You'll need a dark horse. Simply pick anyone drafted after the third round or, ideally, a free agent. If he makes it, you can gloat for years. If he gets cut, you can blame "the numbers game" and your friends will nod knowingly. Naturally, you don't like everything you see. You still wish they could come up with "a shut-down corner" and you want to see "the tight end more involved with the offense." Look for a player over 300 pounds and proclaim him "a horse." It's smart to "still worry about the offensive line." Unless you have strong feelings one way or the other, "this is going to be an interesting season" that will be "dictated by what kind of start they get off to." Naturally, you're "worried about injuries because there isn't much depth" and hopefully you've made the gear-grinding adjustment from the Rooneys being too cheap (obsolete) to being "too generous with signing bonuses. There's complacency."

You're set now to enjoy the season. Perhaps you can read a good book with the time you would have wasted watching fake-punt drills.

In other matters:

¥       With all the redundant sports talk on the local airwaves, some enterprising programmer should try the formula that became magic in Boston about 30 years ago. WBZ turned a Sunday night show over to three fans and "Sports Huddle" was a sensation. The three were outsiders who steadfastly stayed out of press boxes and locker rooms, paid for their tickets and remained independent of the sports and media establishment. It takes three people who are as articulate and intelligent as they are devoted, but it's worth a try for a fresh perspective.

¥       Further proof that people are crazy: An upcoming autograph show in St. Louis has Don Denkinger among its guests. He is noted in the advertising as, "Former MLB umpire, known for Ô85 World Series call." Denkinger made a horrendously wrong call that helped the Cardinals lose the Series. This begs the questions: Why would anyone want his autograph ($15 on regular items, $20 on deluxe items)? And how can Denkinger shelve his self-respect and profit from his own incompetence?

¥       In 16 seasons from 1949-64, the New York Yankees represented the American League in the World Series 14 times. That was a golden age for baseball. Now the Yankees win every year and it's supposed to be a bad thing. What's the difference?

¥       Only in Pittsburgh: Bill Hillgrove's sidekick on radio for Pitt basketball is Dick Groat, who turns 75 this year. One of his partners on the Steelers' broadcasts is Myron Cope, 75. Hillgrove must feel like he's baby-sitting when he works with Bill Osborn on Pitt football games.

John Mehno can be reached online at: johnmehno@lycos.com