I can’t deny it. I find myself amused by the story of the yinzer who tried to break into the Steelers’ locker room over the weekend.

Not the actual suspect

First of all, you get up and decide that today is definitely the day. You are a man with a plan. Like Indiana Jones, you are going dahn ta Heinz Field in search of treasure from the holy of holies… the Pixburgh Stillers’ locker room. And why not? Dey ain’t usin’ it anymores. So, you put on a hat and a nice pair of sweatpants, but before you go, you are going to need an implement. You ain’t stupid. You know yinz ain’t gonna get in dere by usin’ yur bare hanz. Hey, a hammer! Perfect! How could this day possibly end up anything other than awesome?!

Gate B is no barrier to you. Like Thor off his Prozac, you easily bust off the lock with your mighty hammer. Child’z play. Once inside, you think, Wait a minute! I’m dahn ta Heinz Field all by myself. Dis calls for a tohr! So, you go on walk-about, or as the police called it, “wandering around the field area.” I’m betting that you are more than impressed with the repairs made to the field since that Batman movie. Only downside to this is that you may NOT be completely alone. And if not, somebody probably noticed that guy wandering around the field like a third grader on a field trip to the Heinz History Museum.

Amidst your wanderings, you remember why you came here in the first place… da locker room! Dat’s right! You can just imagine the piles of goodies in there. Jerseys. Helmets. Troy’s hair product. Maybe even a discarded Lombardi trophy or two. It’s like King Tut’s tomb.

So, back to the tunnel you go. And somehow, you find your way to the door of the Steelers’ locker room. Of course, by now, security personnel are watching you on video feed and waiting for the police to arrive. But never mind that. This ain’t no Gate B. This door has a steel bolt. Jagoffs! So you go to tahn with your trusty hammer. Whack! Whack! Whack! You’ve created some impressive gouges on the doors and the bolt that dey won’ soon forget, but it’s a “no go.” By this time, the cops have arrived.

Unfortunately, there’s no record (yet) of what was said. There is no report of resistance. Probably because you know the drill. This isn’t your first police rodeo. Just a few months ago you pleaded guilty to simple assault, retail theft, and receiving stolen property, for which you are currently on probation. You’ve also been charged with theft and not just trespassing but “defiant trespassing”! Damn straight! They will taste the rage of your hammer and you will see the inner sanctum of Stiller nation… excuse me, what? Hands behind my back? Sure. Hey, do you think we can run the siren on the way to jail? We don’t have to tell my probation officer about this, do we?

Not the way you thought this day would end.

When contacted by reporters, the suspect’s mother said that her twenty-eight-year-old son has been treated for depression. No duh! After all, he was dressed in a Pirates hat and sweatpants. If that’s not the official uniform of depression the world over, I don’t know what is.

As amusing as this story of self-inflicted embarrassment is, I hope this young man gets the help he obviously needs. Nobody got hurt. Other than a few hammer gouges and a busted lock, no damage was done. This young man got a tour of Heinz Field he will always remember. Let’s hope he also gets his meds and some treatment.