Gridiron & Gridlock

The Steelers won.

They beat Arizona 27-23 in a Super Bowl that many already consider a classic. The last few minutes of the game, when Pittsburgh squandered a sizable lead and was forced to drive the length of the field with little time, were just about the most intense I've ever experienced as a sports fan. I'll admit that when the game ended at about 3:15am London time, I felt more relieved than happy. I was spent, and not only because my team tortured me before delivering rapture but for more earthly reasons as well. The story from the evening that I care not to recount in much detail is that as a result of London having its worst snow storm in about two decades, my satellite receiver lost its signal and the TV went dark. During the Super Bowl. With the Pittsburgh Steelers. In the middle of the night in London. Sitting by myself. I missed seeing much of the second and third quarters and instead listened to BBC radio coverage (it's even worse than it sounds) and "watched" ESPN Gamecast (exactly as bad as it sounds, as it's about as stimulating as watching a game of Stratego) until a guardian angel in Detroit sent the url to salvation, a fee-based international website with streaming video of the game. I saw the fourth quarter. I saw Fitz (twice), the safety, the drive, The Catch, and the fumble. I saw Pittsburgh win its 6th Super Bowl.

But back to that persnickety London storm for a moment. Somehow the city that survived a massive carpetbombing by Germans can't seem to function with 6 inches of snow on the ground. Granted, this was a real storm in a place "blessed" by a moderate climate despite its longitude (thank you, Gulf Stream) and not used to heavy dustings. Still, come on people. Greater London was in complete and utter gridlock. Buses weren't operating, the Tube and trains had almost no service, Heathrow ground to a halt. The boys' schools were canceled (as they are tomorrow despite there being no new snow and clear roadways). Almost no one went to work, including me, as there was literally no way to get there. This was the level of storm that Chicagoans might notice but would prevent no one (and I mean no one) from going to work or school.

I'll admit it all was mildly amusing for one day when I could be quite productive from home. How could we not chuckle to learn that a wealthy city of 12 million people in northern Europe doesn't own a single snow plow. I have this sneaking suspicion, though, that today's hassles aren't the end of this tale.