My father and his seven children are on the warpath. You do not disrespect JoePa in my father's house. My father loves, loves, loves JoePa. He admires Mr. Noll, probably has a solid fondness for him. But, daddy has nothing but loony-love for The Only Coach That Will Ever Be.
I grew up in Pennsylvania--Western Pennsylvania, not dumbass Philly. Fridays were devoted to high school games. Sundays belonged to the Black & Gold. Saturdays required your best behaviour in my daddy's house because that was JoePa's Day. No cussing (Save it for Sundays and the Steelers). No fighting (Friday night is all right for fightin'). No backwardness whatsoever.
Daddy is not going to like this report of snickering. Let's all bow our heads and pity those fools. Names will be sniffed out and that will beget a list. As sure as Beatrix Kiddo checked off her honey-do items, Daddy and his progeny are about to complicate some lives.
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