
CHICAGO -- Words aren't necessary. The images alone Sunday are sufficient portraits of why football might be the ultimate gratification mind game. There was
Jay Cutler, managing a rare laugh as an official accidentally knocked his helmet off his head, punching the air in victory after a hellish week in which he threw four interceptions and was crucified again by the
NFL coaching establishment. There was
Robbie Gould, as in gold, calmly making yet another game-winning field goal in a volatile meteorological swirl on a cow-pasture surface pockmarked by two U2 concerts.
And there, on the Pittsburgh sideline, was
Jeff Reed, literally looking ready to cry. Few professions in sports, or life, are more thankless than that of the placekicker. When you convert a kick, it's taken for granted. When you miss a potential winner, you're a bum. Reed, whose 82.8 percent conversion rate makes him the league's 10th-most accurate kicker ever, missed two such biggies on the oversized Brillo pad that is Soldier Field. And with those blunders came the first loss of the season for the
Steelers, your defending Super Bowl champions, who might have begun to make their case for repeating if even one of Reed's kicks hadn't swerved wide left.