Imagine if you will, Steelers owner Art Rooney owned a restaurant — “Art’s Diner, home of the Skunk Sandwich.” It’s the only place around this side of Cleveland. You’re hungry for something, so you go there. Omar, the manager, greets you, and Russ, your waiter, seats you with a menu. You open up the menu and you’re repulsed by your choice of baby skunk (draft picks), imported skunk (free agents) and the special “skunk sandwich” (roster holdovers).
You’re disgusted and want to see the chef. Mike, the chef, comes out and tells you a bunch of jibber jabber about how their skunk is the best around and they have been serving it for 15 years. “We haven’t won any awards the past eight years (playoff games) but we’ve won a lot of people over.” You’re hungry for something, so you order, and it smells and tastes like skunk and you vomit. Owner Art arrives and tells you to try the special spray sauce. Yummy!
Not that hard to imagine is it? When does this charade end?
Rob DiSanti
O’Hara