One of the neat things about sitting on a bar stool facing a dozen TV screens and watching your team (the Steelers, not the Browns!) win with ease is that not once did we see Donald Trump's rubbery face or hear his twisting words in the noisy madness of the moment. That's how we escaped the TV pundits' endless speculation about an election that's more than a year away.
Ben Roethlisberger, having one of his best days, just connected with Antonio Brown on a long, long pass.
(You must undertstand that the latest polls in Iowa...) I'm doing this from memory, folks, after insufferable months of day-to-day polls.
Big Ben does it again...
(You must know, according to The Donald, that he is the most qualified person ever to run for president)
Big Ben can't miss today.
(But will Carly overcome her disastrous days at Hewlett-Packard?)
Ben is smiling.
(If the race comes down to Trump and...)
Halftime. Already?
(What do you make of Peyton Manning and Tom Brady endorsing Trump?)
In a moment of distraction, I asked the guy next to me about Trump. He took a quick sip of his beer and retorted: " Hey, fella. I came here to watch a football game. I've never even met this Trumpy guy. Who does he play for?"
Good grief. Game over already? I haven't even escaped the 5 p.m. cable TV news roundup. Maybe nobody's ahead in the polls. Hold it. Somebody's interviewing Ben on camera.
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