Mike Prisuta’s Steelers Radio Network Pregame Show Monologue 12/21/20


’Twas four days before Christmas and throughout Steeler Nation elation had vanished; There was great consternation.

No longer unbeaten, they suddenly sucked.
And now loomed a playoffs in which they’d be … not very competitive, in all likelihood.

With the injured list growing; no more Bush or Dupree.
A Lombardi would not be found under the tree.

That theory, at least, kept on gaining momentum.
It was hard to envision a championship ending.

But I on the Pregame, from Zoom not the booth, knew the franchise QB, warts and all, wasn’t through.
Pass-catchers he gathered before engaging the Bengals, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

“On Johnson, on Ebron, on JuJu Smith-Schuster; just catch the damn ball and we’ll soon stop the losing.”

The slump-busting Bengals were the needed elixir.
The division secured, they now focused big picture.

In the playoffs, they played like they’d been undefeated.
That earned them a title-game shot at the Chiefs.

Mahomes was still Springsteen, the challenge was drastic.
But not “Born to Run” Bruce; instead it was Springsteen from “Magic.”

That guy they could beat, and the story was told.
Pittsburgh’s goin’ to the Super Bowl.

The question was posed, as it had been all fall.
Are you ready for some football?

The rematch with Green Bay was much anticipated.
But this time the Packers had no Rodgers Rate.

The teams traded punches and play-making shots.
But Heyward and Watt, they just could not be blocked.

Green Bay competed, the Packers did try hard.
But the Steelers’ game tape, it was better than “Die Hard.”

A sack for Mike Hilton and a tip-pick for Minkah.
And a scoreboard that was blinking “World Champion Steelers.”

Back home in the ’Burgh all the parties did rage.
And the new-fallen snow couldn’t stop the parade.

Coach Tomlin, he beamed, and his eyes, how they twinkled.
As he rode through the streets more b.s. he did sprinkle.

“The standard was that, if you will,” Tomlin claimed.
“We did it again despite no running game.”

As he drove out of sight an old classic he mimicked.
“May your Christmas be Merry, and thoughtfully non-rhythmic.”

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