The Pittsburgh Fan

He’d driven them nearly 300 miles to watch his beloved, hometown team play.

It was a disappointing, atypical blowout, his Steelers losing to the hometown team of Cincinnati.

It was such a blowout, the stadium emptied early, with the ramps from the upper deck to ground mostly empty too.

They were leaving down the ramps in their jerseys declaiming support for their hometown team. They descended, hand-in-hand, with four fans of Cincinnati behind them, drunk and good-naturedly ribbing the two fans of their out-of-town rivals.

They were ribbing him and his girlfriend, telling them to, “Go on home with your tails between your legs.”

She turned around to tell them to, “Go fuck yourselves.”

One of them told the out-of-town fan to keep his woman under control. She told them again to fuck off and that their team sucked.

It was true, the hometown team sucked. But those guys were hyped on beer and a rare win against their rivals, so they told the girl it would be best for her to shut up.

Her boyfriend, without turning around, told her to chill. He told her to keep quiet and just keep on walking. So that’s what they did, under a cascade of ribbing until they got to ground.

They drove the four and a half hours back to Pittsburgh, mostly in silence. At her house, he tried kissing his girl.

She backed away, calling him a pussy for not defending her against those four guys giving them shit back in Cincinnati.

He said, “What was I supposed to do? There were four of them and only one of me. And nobody else around. I’d have gotten killed.”

He went in for another kiss, but, again, she turned away.

“It was a long drive,” he said. “And my team lost. Can’t I get something?”

“Hell no,” she said. “You should have defended me. That’s what a real man would have done.”

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