Steelers Fan Gets Sudden Death Wish

Leave it to a football fan to make the most of a "sudden death." I read a bizarre story about the funeral arrangements of a diehard Pittsburgh Steelers fan the other day and I just about died laughing.

After James Henry Smith died from prostate cancer last Thursday, his family thought it only fitting to turn his wake into a Pittsburgh Steelers shrine. Smith was laid out in his favorite recliner with a continuous loop of Steelers highlights playing on the television.

Funeral director Roland Criswell, of the Samuel E. Coston Funeral Home, arranged furniture and other football props in the same fashion it would have been on game day in Smith's home.

Smith's corpse was kicked back in the recliner with a pack of cigarettes and a six-pack of beer within reach. He had the television remote in his hand (this proves point to you ladies that you can't get the "flicker" from some men, even when they're dead) and a Steelers blanket across his legs.

This was a short but sweet story and a very inventive way for a Steelers fan to have his funeral service. But there seems to be a lot missing here. If you are going to go crazy with a funeral like this, you have to go all out.

Here's what was missing from the story (and what would have happened if I had chosen the career path of funeral director and lived in the Pittsburgh area):

Fans of Smith showed up for the funeral service 4 to 6 hours early to "tailgate" in the funeral home parking lot. Mostly, they drank beer and ate hot dogs and brats. Some even painted their faces in Steelers colors. Five of Smith's former co-workers were shirtless, each sporting a letter of his last name in gold paint on their chests.

At noon, a referee appeared and performed a coin toss, which determined which end of the funeral home the service would take place.

Al Michaels and John Madden were on hand to deliver the eulogy. The duo was also the reason the funeral was scheduled for Monday night. Michaels started out with the facts of Smith's life and Madden added goofy banter like why Smith was part of his All-Madden dead fan team.

Franco Harris was on hand just in case any props fell from the corpse's lap, like a plate of nachos or a bowl of popcorn. The funeral director didn't have NFL-caliber reflexes and would have only deflected said dishes as they fumbled their way to the floor. With Harris in the backfield, he would certainly make an immaculate reception and save the 12 X 12 piece of astro turf placed under the recliner from any salsa or nacho cheese stains.

Terry Bradshaw would call for a huddle every couple of minutes to call plays. "Inez, take a fake handoff of this sympathy bouquet of black and gold roses," he'd say. "But Ethel, you go deep. During the Hail Mary, I'll toss them to you in the end zone behind the altar. The count will be on two. Ready, break!"

If you wanted to view the body up close you had to make it by the current Steelers offensive line. Initially funeral goers would only try to rush the stage one or two at a time, resulting in double and triple team blocking. But eventually they figured out a few could break through by blitzing several weepy old ladies.

During "halftime" of the service, the funeral goers were split into two groups and brought to separate locker rooms in the basement. There, coach Bill Cowher bitched them out for what they did wrong in the first half and tried to give them advice on adjustments they could make for the funeral's second half. Confusing plays using X's and O's were drawn up on chalkboards to try and explain how to go through the buffet line.

Around the 2 minute warning, Smith's body was loaded inside of a football shaped leather casket that said Wilson in huge letters. Once inside, the "coffin" was laced up and then signed by NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue.

Former Steelers defensive tackle Mean Joe Greene insisted on being the only pallbearer and dragged the football coffin on his back out of the funeral home and made the 100-yard trek to the burial site in the end zone. After Green crossed the goal line, he spiked the leather casket, and did a small celebration dance to the delight of funeral fans.

After the service, Greene limped down a basement hallway at the funeral parlor, his black suit jacket off and slung over his shoulder. Greene was exhausted, possibly injured and sweating profusely. A little kid tried to offer encouragement to the Steel Curtain's anchor and asked for his autograph, but Greene blew him off. Then when the little squirt offered Greene an ice-cold bottle of Coca Cola. Greene guzzled it, then tossed the kid his sweat-drenched suit coat as a token of thanks.

Something tells me James Henry Smith would have loved these additional options added to his Fantasy Funeral playbook. These ideas will not completely go to waste as I have a hunch one of my wife's old co-workers would want his funeral exactly as listed above, with the only change possibly being asked to be buried at "sea" in one of the 3 rivers that flow through Pittsburgh by the old stadium site.

I'm a diehard Minnesota Vikings fan, but a purple pride funeral would be a hard sell to my wife (Even though she wouldn't have to worry any more about Red McCombs threatening to move my funeral to Los Angeles or San Antonio, or the potential of Randy Moss taking a funeral off).
I'd be cool with former QB Fran Tarkenton scrambling to the event, but wouldn't think it was that incredible to invite John Davidson to croon a funeral hymn (although I might be fine with Cathy Lee Crosby doing a scripture reading).

My wife also wouldn't fulfill my request to have Jim Marshall be a pallbearer because she'd worry he would haul my casket off in the wrong direction.
I don't think she'd allow all guests to wear helmets with horns coming out of them, or any type of animal fur outfits. I did talk her into having one of our wedding photos taken on the pirate ship in the pool area of Fargo's Holiday Inn while we all wore eye patches, but my final idea would not be ship-shape with her: Something tells me she'd never warm up to the idea of my corpse being set afloat on a burning Viking ship on Lake Minnetonka.