An Open Letter to Ben Roethlisberger

Dear Ben,

I'm sure you're secretly basking in the warm glow from the knowledge that you're not going to have to spend any time in court, and while that feeling may be reassuring, remember this: you got lucky this time.

Now, I don't know what you did (if you did anything), but an alleged victim that doesn't want to press charges and a District Attorney that doesn't have enough evidence to prosecute doesn't mean that you didn't probably do something that was really, *really* stupid.

Frankly, even if what was alleged to have transpired never even came close to allegedly transpiring, your Yinzer fans already know about your history of making some real boneheaded decisions. We're not even talking about you sticking your Dick LeBeau into some tight end here; you proved that you were perfectly capable of making non-sexual mistakes when you decided to ride your motorcycle without a helmet. Dumb move, Ben.

Dumb move.

If my life long Steelers fan grandmother had been alive to see all the stupid things you've done, she would have slapped you upside the head with her ring hand, pointing side first. My guess is that there are thousands of other grandmothers in the Steelers Nation of ump-teen millions that would probably join her in kicking your ass. Get enough of them together, I think we could easily pay off the City of Pittsburgh's pension obligation with a "Smack Stupidhead in the Face" fundraiser, selling tickets for $1.

Had you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that, in general, Pittsburghers don't really like its sports heroes to act like assholes. I'm not just talking about Santonio Holmes or Plaxico Buress here either; I distinctly remember booing former Pirate outfielder Dave Parker after he got hooked on cocaine and started playing (better) for the Cincinnati Reds. We don't appreciate that kind of bullshiat.

So, here's what I would suggest: you need to chain yourself to one of the thousands of little old, black & gold babushka wearing grandmother (of which I spoke about earlier) in order to keep yourself out of any situation that could even possibly be potentially construed as a dumb, dumb move. Everywhere you go, whether that's to a charity event, to a bar, or to a strip club, you need to know that Grandma is going to whup you if you even think of getting out of line. And while you may think that this is a tad excessive, I'm sure that it's going to be better than being drummed out of the league or becoming bunkmates with Chris Henry in the future, if you know what I mean.

Sincerely,

O
The Angry Drunk Bureaucrat