Never before in the modern-day history of the Pittsburgh Steelers has one of their teams entered the playoffs with such an overshadowing gloom and sense of dystopia.
The Steelers whiffed 0-for-4 against playoff quality opponents the last portion of their schedule and enter the postseason competition as more of a smoldering mass than a sharp-as-steel legitimate contender.
Not too long ago, in 2024, the Steelers were riding high atop the National Football League rankings, being spoken of as having Super Bowl mettle, and Coach Mike Tomlin was already being fitted for his Coach of the Year robes.
Since then, what a long, strange trip it’s been. As they say, sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me, and other times I can barely see.
Probing blind in the dark, aimlessly seeking out answers, would be an apt way to describe the state of the coaching team.
Most industry prognosticators describe the Steelers’ march to the playoffs against the Baltimore Ravens as that of a “Dead Man Walking.” There are most likely several within the Steelers organization who would quietly agree.
There is no denying that this team has all the appearances of one that has been poorly coached down the stretch. They are still plagued by communication breakdowns, embarrassing clock management guffaws, a deer in the headlights, a lack of strategic adjustments, and recurring costly and untimely errors.
For the first time, the national media are coming to grips with the reality that the hometown crowd is getting uncomfortably numb.
The phrase “the standard is the standard” is morphing from a spirited battle cry to an admission of guilt.
Ten years without a playoff win is, in the eyes of a growing many, merely translated as a decade of defeat.
And as Thom Yorke once shared, it wears me out…it wears me out.
It wears all of us out.
Is there a shocking twist yet to be revealed this Steelers season? Or are we coming to the final dismal movement of this year’s last chance dance? Let’s give it a Spin.
Twinsies
The rise and fall of Tomlin this year have had a consistent thread. That thread is a Super Bowl-winning and probable future Hall of Fame quarterback, Russell Wilson.
After replacing his starting quarterback Justin Fields, who was 4-2 and fresh off a big victory at the time, with Wilson, Tomlin knitted a twinsie sweater with the former Seattle Seahawks star.
At first, this decision was magnificently rewarded, as Wilson glowed with an early renaissance and earned accolades not only for himself but also for Tomlin, who was fully credited for making such a gutsy move.
The reasoning behind this switch was Wilson’s experience, knowledge of the game, and ability to expand the playbook. It was believed this would take the Steelers’ offense to a much higher level of competitiveness.
Though this thesis showed potential early on, it fizzled out noticeably during the team’s steady ineptitude during its past four losses. The offense is now ranked 23rd in the NFL in terms of average yards allowed per game.
For a team struggling to discover answers that need a more radical approach to shake things up, the solution to the puzzle has been watching from the sidelines.
Justin Fields is the only quarterback on the team riding on a winning streak, and he would be able to present the Baltimore Ravens with a challenging new look with the offense.
If you had to prepare all week for Russell Wilson and suddenly Fields walked onto the field with the game script in hand, it would create confusion if not a palpable level of fear.
It would be the cardio paddles to the heart of the Steelers’ offense that is desperately required.
It’s a significant ace in the hole that Tomlin would be wise to play.
But he won’t. The reason is that he is clearly “ride or die” when it comes to giving Wilson the chance to be the player he gambled all that he would be.
It’s the horse he rode in on. It will be the one that greets the season’s sunset.
That Gum Won’t Chew
Tomlin isn’t alone in experiencing an end-of-season turn of fates. Special Teams Coach Danny Smith also earned an early season showering of praise.
He’s been with the team since 2013, but his longevity can’t be completely explained by statistical evidence. His results have been, on average…well, standard.
However, that changed at the beginning of this season as Smith’s squad experienced remarkable success early on. It could be argued they were the top-performing segment of the team.
The unit produced one splash play after another. Blocked kicks, big returns. It was as high of a life as it gets in special teams.
Since then, the good times have been noticeably drying up. Not only are the big plays going away, but the bad plays are also starting to seep in.
Although most other teams have opted to kick off deep in the end zone and consider the 30-yard line good, the Steelers have been tempting fate with playable returns. And fate has responded unfavorably.
Teams have been chalking up 30-yard, 40-yard, and even bigger returns. The field position, especially surrendered to quality offenses, has been taking its toll.
It might be time for the Steelers to embrace some humility in this approach. Either that or clean up its tackling, insta pronto.
Tony Robbins
As I’ve shared here before, HBO’s Hard Knocks: In Season with the AFC North show has been a bit of a disappointment. The most obvious reason is that who wants to watch four shows in a row where we star as the losers?
But it’s also been a letdown because the cameras and microphones don’t go beneath the surface of locker room drama. It’s a cleaned-up and highly polished presentation, as you would expect from the NFL, which prioritizes preserving its brand above all.
Still, you come away with a few insights regarding the Steelers that you might not have had before the show.
Regarding Tomlin, it’s less of a revelation than an affirmation of the priorities in his coaching approach. We’re just getting a carefully curated glimpse, but you can still get a sense of the emphasis he puts on managing his players’ mindsets during games.
There is genius and wealth in this approach. Just ask Tony Robbins, who is probably considered one of the most influential motivational speakers of our age.
For Tomlin, this means that when a play or series goes bad, his first instinct is to focus on his players’ demeanor as they are coming off the field. If he notices heads down or shoulders slumped, all his attention goes toward reframing his players’ minds back toward positivity.
Contrast this with the Patriots’ former legendary coach, Bill Belichick. That man doesn’t spend any time on the sidelines worrying about whether “limiting beliefs” are creeping into his players’ psyche.
Instead, his 100-percent focus was always on thinking through the chess moves required to fix what he saw was broken or underperforming on the field. From his perspective, he had assistant coaches who could go up to the players and perform the task of “soothing their souls.”
His approach included being intentional about drafting players who required much less mental coddling. You didn’t see Belichick investing much of the dwindling play clock in putting his arm around his quarterback, Tom Brady, and saying, “Don’t let the despair get you, Tommy. You need to know how much you are loved on this team.”
It does tend to make you wonder if the Steelers are a team that puts less faith in its agility in making strategic game-time adjustments and believes more in lifting up the beliefs of its players.
At least in the past four games, it doesn’t look like the coaching staff has those strategic answers to provide.
You wonder if, in the end, players such as Cam Heyward would prefer their coaches were more capable of providing razor-sharp solutions than merely soothing words.
Don’t Tell Dave
My viewing of this season of Hard Knocks has had a surprising (and perhaps disqualifying) result.
I’ll only tell you what it is if you lean in a little and allow me to share it with a whispered voice.
I don’t hate the Ravens anymore.
There. I said it.
Now I know I’m supposed to despise Baltimore. Oil and water. Cats and dogs. Good guys and bad guys. I get that this hatred is supposed to be curdling in my black-and-gold bloodstream.
But I don’t. After learning more about Coach John Harbaugh, I must admit that he seems like a decent enough guy—one that you might not even mind playing for.
And Lamar Jackson? C’mon. What’s not to like? His talent and fluidity of style are extraordinary, and if it weren’t being showcased while simultaneously shaming my Steelers, it would be somewhat of a joy to watch.
Mark Andrews? One of the league’s very best at tight end? To discover he’s a Type 1 diabetic having to check his blood sugars multiple times during a game…how can you not respect that level of overcoming?
Lastly, there is King Henry. Not since Earl Campbell ran for the Houston Oilers has there been an opposing player that I admired so much.
With Derrick Henry, it’s just like I felt with Campbell. How did that guy not end up being a Pittsburgh Steeler?
It was so easy to despise the Ravens of the Brian Billick era when they oozed arrogance and were a pleasure to want to crush. Ray Lewis. Ed Reed. Terrell Suggs. I’m getting nauseous just thinking of those players.
Yet, today’s Ravens. I’m sorry. I don’t hate them.
Please don’t tell Dave.
The Lost Generation
A large contingent of Steelers Nation still believes that the rest of us are miserably spoiled for feeling any level of discontent.
After all, don’t we win more than we lose? Aren’t we almost always on the cusp of making the playoffs yearly? Shouldn’t that be enough entertainment to settle our spirits? Isn’t it enough that each year, we at least give it the “old college try”?
I suppose this argument isn’t without merit.
But this isn’t college. These are the pros. We’re talking about arguably the greatest franchise in NFL history, and sadly, we’re losing our edge.
If we’re not careful, if we don’t start winning the big games, we’ll lose a generation.
Most of the roads of Steelers Nation’s deep-rooted fandom can be traced back to the 1970s.
Of course, growing up in Pittsburgh helps. But for the millions outside of the area who are rabid fans, most are that way because either a parent or grandparent was deeply changed by those championship years.
Those powerful memories of consistent dominance during that decade were what was passed through the generations.
But what happens if, in the eyes of this generation, and even the one preceding it…we’re just another team in the National Football League? Just another city among the 31 others that can make an equal claim to earning the title of champion.
Maybe it is enough to be just one of 32 in a pack of NFL-brand pencils.
If this is the case, don’t expect Steelers Nation to retain its greatness as one of the best fan groups of any team in the world.
When the Rooneys think of what’s really at stake every year we barely miss entry or make an inglorious early exit out of the playoffs, they should keep the future generations in mind.
Mediocrity doesn’t make the history books. Nor passes through generations.
Some things should never be taken for granted.
Steel In Contention
Still, even with all this angst pouring over these digital pages, a glimmer of light remains.
That is, that Pittsburgh is steel in contention. The team has a ticket to the dance. Although they are arriving in a rusted-out pickup truck rather than the limousine we had hoped for, they are at least being let inside the door.
After all, haven’t there been countless other occasions where we faced some miserable, feeble-minded opponent, and they ended up giving us a proper smackdown?
No one should be mortgaging their house on this prospect—nor their tool shed, for that matter.
But the music carries an enticing beat. So, why not? Let’s dance, even if it’s the last chance dance.
