
Mike Tomlin speaks to reporters at his Tuesday press conference on the South Side. — DEJAN KOVACEVIC
DEJAN KOVACEVIC, DK ON PITTSBURGH SPORTS
Mike Tomlin wouldn’t confess this if offered a month’s worth of Baltimore beatings, but man, was he feeling it at his Tuesday press conference.
Asked if Le’Veon Bell riding a stationary bike was a sign he might be ready for the Ravens: “If you’re looking for comfort, it is. But there won’t be any bikes on the field on Saturday night.”
Asked how he’d characterize his feelings toward the Ravens in general and John Harbaugh specifically: “I wouldn’t. They’re the nameless grey faces that we play this week.”
Asked again about the blown fake punt Sunday: “They did a nice job. We didn’t. Namely, me.”
Asked if he’s comfortable with diminutive Dri Archer doing any pass-blocking: “I’m comfortable utilizing him with what he does best. If I want him to block Terrell Suggs, then I’m stupid.”
He’ll be there all week, folks. Try the veal.
No, but seriously, the coach was ablaze. If that microphone weren’t clipped to the table in front of him, he easily could have dropped it for dramatic effect on the way out of the room. It was classic Tomlin, deadpan, bug-eyed as he surveyed the room for doubters, the whole deal.
The coach is very much back in his element.
On Sept. 28, the day the Steelers somehow transformed a big lead into a 27-24 loss to Tampa Bay, the day his players committed 13 penalties for 125, the day his offense’s opening drive consisted of a fullback screen for no gain, a sack, another sack for a lost fumble and a touchdown for the Buccaneers, I wrote a column entitled, ‘Why Exactly Is Tomlin Untouchable?’
It remains the most heavily trafficked column this site has seen. It went wild on Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, shared on every forum the Nation populates. And the broader sentiment, I can safely summarize, was this: Good riddance. The headline alone had some readers dizzy with delight.
Here’s one passage from that column …
Tomlin is untouchable, of course, or so we’re reminded repeatedly from the inside. That’s just how it is. Dick LeBeau, too. Probably even Todd Haley. I want to preface this by stressing as emphatically as possible that it isn’t a reaction to one lousy loss, but I still feel compelled to ask: Why?
What if they keep losing?
What if they lose — gasp — at Jacksonville next Sunday?
What if the players continue to tune out the coach?
Are they untouchable because Chuck Noll stayed until it was his choice to step down and Bill Cowher stayed until it was his choice to step down, and anything else would be un-Steelers-like?
Well, they didn’t keep losing. They won at Jacksonville, though it was a struggle. They won 11 and lost five, though the Jets and Saints were part of the latter. They won a playoff berth, then won the AFC North in as high-profile a football setting as Pittsburgh has enjoyed in some time. They won, won, won, won, won. And they did so in eminently Steelers-like style, right up to and including Haley’s No. 2-ranked offense and LeBeau’s revitalized defense.
All that, and as we saw again Sunday after the Bengals game, he’s hardly lost his fire …

Mike Tomlin exchanges heated words with Bengals safety Reggie Nelson after the game Sunday. — GETTY
So this is the part where one typically offers the standard mea culpa, right?
Uh-uh. Not here.
Because going all apologetic in this event would require some ridiculous revisionist history, and I’m no more interested in that than I am in avoiding all the credit due now to Tomlin, Haley and LeBeau for righting the course.
Let me explain a phenomenon I used to call the Kordell Effect. Named, of course, after Kordell Stewart, maybe the most polarizing single figure in franchise history, it worked like this: If Kordell played a bad game and you were a Kordell supporter who couldn’t acknowledge that, then you were a Kordell Apologist. If Kordell played a good game and you were a Kordell basher, then you were … well, the other 99 percent of the population. There was never any in-between, and it was never acceptable under any circumstance to switch sides.
Never mind that performances, including Kordell’s, could fluctuate from Sunday to Sunday. You either loved or hated, and there wasn’t another box on the ballot.
This is where I feel the Nation is with Tomlin. (And no, I’m not touching race here, at least not for this piece.) Positions are so deeply entrenched on the head coach that he can do no wrong with some, can do no right with most. They’re so deeply entrenched that, on the night the Steelers remarkably roared back from the depths of London and Tampa Bay to reclaim their division before a national audience, a disturbing portion of the public focused solely on the obscenely dumb fake punt. Or pointed to Antonio Brown body-flipping into the end zone as some sign of continuing lack of discipline in a game where the Steelers were flagged once all night, and that a late, bogus holding call on Ramon Foster.
That’s outrageous, man. That’s unfair, to the man and what he’s achieved, and I won’t be party to it.
But I also won’t apologize for the sentiments earlier this season, and here’s why: Tomlin changed.
Not you. Not me. He did.
And if you haven’t picked up on that, with all due respect, you haven’t been paying enough attention:
• Tomlin’s team entered this season woefully underprepared and undisciplined. Both those are on the head coach. But his practices intensified, especially after the loss in New Jersey, according to several players, and he stressed penalties by hiring high school officials to oversee all drills. He changed both.
• Tomlin’s offense had all kinds of talent but no identity, in part because he and Haley tried to make it something it was not. They went dink-and-dunk rather than downfield. They ran when they should have passed, passed when they should have run. Tomlin and Haley changed.
• Tomlin’s defense had all the wrong personnel on the field. My goodness, were they wrong. And that extends back to the summer when Brett Keisel and James Harrison, both of whom would become key contributors, were ignored and nearly lost. The starting corners were Ike Taylor and Cortez Allen. The starting defensive end at times was Cam Thomas. The list goes on. Tomlin and LeBeau changed.
And I’ll tell you something else that changed: Tomlin took charge.
I can’t say with hard evidence to what extent the head coach was emasculated by the whole Bruce Arians/Haley episode and Art Rooney II’s oversight in other areas, but I can definitively state right now that what you’re seeing is Tomlin’s team. We’ve seen that with some of the harder personnel choices made this season, from LeGarrette Blount’s release to Marcus Gilbert being made inactive in Atlanta to Ike Taylor being gently shoved out of the corner picture to … wow, did you pick up on that response regarding Troy Polamalu Tuesday?
Question: “If Polamalu says he can play and is medically cleared to play, does he automatically get a helmet?”
Tomlin: “Like I said regarding all those injury circumstances, we’re going to do what’s right. The decisions are complex, and they’re not going to boil down to just simply medical clearance. We’re too far on the journey for that to be the case. There are complexities to these things, and we’re going to deal with them on a case-by-case basis at the appropriate time. The No. 1 element of discussion is the overall health of the individual whether it’s Troy or Ike or Le’Veon or Ryan Shazier. That’s the significant element of the discussion but not the sole element of the discussion.”
Oh, my.
Tomlin could have answered that with a simple ‘yes,’ and no one would have invested a second thought into it. But he basically left open the possibility that a first-ballot Hall of Famer could be left on the sideline in favor of Will Allen.
Understand, I’m not debating that in and of itself. I’m on record as liking Allen’s work, especially on run defense, and that will be key against the Ravens’ Justin Forsett.
But that’s some rare territory being tread there, to put it mildly.
Certainly not the kind of stuff a coach could even contemplate if he weren’t untouchable.
December 30, 2014
Column: Took a while, but Tomlin took charge
by Dejan Kovacevic • Columns • Steelers
Mike Tomlin speaks to reporters at his Tuesday press conference on the South Side. — DEJAN KOVACEVIC
DEJAN KOVACEVIC, DK ON PITTSBURGH SPORTS
Mike Tomlin wouldn’t confess this if offered a month’s worth of Baltimore beatings, but man, was he feeling it at his Tuesday press conference.
Asked if Le’Veon Bell riding a stationary bike was a sign he might be ready for the Ravens: “If you’re looking for comfort, it is. But there won’t be any bikes on the field on Saturday night.”
Asked how he’d characterize his feelings toward the Ravens in general and John Harbaugh specifically: “I wouldn’t. They’re the nameless grey faces that we play this week.”
Asked again about the blown fake punt Sunday: “They did a nice job. We didn’t. Namely, me.”
Asked if he’s comfortable with diminutive Dri Archer doing any pass-blocking: “I’m comfortable utilizing him with what he does best. If I want him to block Terrell Suggs, then I’m stupid.”
He’ll be there all week, folks. Try the veal.
No, but seriously, the coach was ablaze. If that microphone weren’t clipped to the table in front of him, he easily could have dropped it for dramatic effect on the way out of the room. It was classic Tomlin, deadpan, bug-eyed as he surveyed the room for doubters, the whole deal.
The coach is very much back in his element.
On Sept. 28, the day the Steelers somehow transformed a big lead into a 27-24 loss to Tampa Bay, the day his players committed 13 penalties for 125, the day his offense’s opening drive consisted of a fullback screen for no gain, a sack, another sack for a lost fumble and a touchdown for the Buccaneers, I wrote a column entitled, ‘Why Exactly Is Tomlin Untouchable?’
It remains the most heavily trafficked column this site has seen. It went wild on Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, shared on every forum the Nation populates. And the broader sentiment, I can safely summarize, was this: Good riddance. The headline alone had some readers dizzy with delight.
Here’s one passage from that column …
Tomlin is untouchable, of course, or so we’re reminded repeatedly from the inside. That’s just how it is. Dick LeBeau, too. Probably even Todd Haley. I want to preface this by stressing as emphatically as possible that it isn’t a reaction to one lousy loss, but I still feel compelled to ask: Why?
What if they keep losing?
What if they lose — gasp — at Jacksonville next Sunday?
What if the players continue to tune out the coach?
Are they untouchable because Chuck Noll stayed until it was his choice to step down and Bill Cowher stayed until it was his choice to step down, and anything else would be un-Steelers-like?
Well, they didn’t keep losing. They won at Jacksonville, though it was a struggle. They won 11 and lost five, though the Jets and Saints were part of the latter. They won a playoff berth, then won the AFC North in as high-profile a football setting as Pittsburgh has enjoyed in some time. They won, won, won, won, won. And they did so in eminently Steelers-like style, right up to and including Haley’s No. 2-ranked offense and LeBeau’s revitalized defense.
All that, and as we saw again Sunday after the Bengals game, he’s hardly lost his fire …
Mike Tomlin exchanges heated words with Bengals safety Reggie Nelson after the game Sunday. — GETTY
So this is the part where one typically offers the standard mea culpa, right?
Uh-uh. Not here.
Because going all apologetic in this event would require some ridiculous revisionist history, and I’m no more interested in that than I am in avoiding all the credit due now to Tomlin, Haley and LeBeau for righting the course.
Let me explain a phenomenon I used to call the Kordell Effect. Named, of course, after Kordell Stewart, maybe the most polarizing single figure in franchise history, it worked like this: If Kordell played a bad game and you were a Kordell supporter who couldn’t acknowledge that, then you were a Kordell Apologist. If Kordell played a good game and you were a Kordell basher, then you were … well, the other 99 percent of the population. There was never any in-between, and it was never acceptable under any circumstance to switch sides.
Never mind that performances, including Kordell’s, could fluctuate from Sunday to Sunday. You either loved or hated, and there wasn’t another box on the ballot.
This is where I feel the Nation is with Tomlin. (And no, I’m not touching race here, at least not for this piece.) Positions are so deeply entrenched on the head coach that he can do no wrong with some, can do no right with most. They’re so deeply entrenched that, on the night the Steelers remarkably roared back from the depths of London and Tampa Bay to reclaim their division before a national audience, a disturbing portion of the public focused solely on the obscenely dumb fake punt. Or pointed to Antonio Brown body-flipping into the end zone as some sign of continuing lack of discipline in a game where the Steelers were flagged once all night, and that a late, bogus holding call on Ramon Foster.
That’s outrageous, man. That’s unfair, to the man and what he’s achieved, and I won’t be party to it.
But I also won’t apologize for the sentiments earlier this season, and here’s why: Tomlin changed.
Not you. Not me. He did.
And if you haven’t picked up on that, with all due respect, you haven’t been paying enough attention:
• Tomlin’s team entered this season woefully underprepared and undisciplined. Both those are on the head coach. But his practices intensified, especially after the loss in New Jersey, according to several players, and he stressed penalties by hiring high school officials to oversee all drills. He changed both.
• Tomlin’s offense had all kinds of talent but no identity, in part because he and Haley tried to make it something it was not. They went dink-and-dunk rather than downfield. They ran when they should have passed, passed when they should have run. Tomlin and Haley changed.
• Tomlin’s defense had all the wrong personnel on the field. My goodness, were they wrong. And that extends back to the summer when Brett Keisel and James Harrison, both of whom would become key contributors, were ignored and nearly lost. The starting corners were Ike Taylor and Cortez Allen. The starting defensive end at times was Cam Thomas. The list goes on. Tomlin and LeBeau changed.
And I’ll tell you something else that changed: Tomlin took charge.
I can’t say with hard evidence to what extent the head coach was emasculated by the whole Bruce Arians/Haley episode and Art Rooney II’s oversight in other areas, but I can definitively state right now that what you’re seeing is Tomlin’s team. We’ve seen that with some of the harder personnel choices made this season, from LeGarrette Blount’s release to Marcus Gilbert being made inactive in Atlanta to Ike Taylor being gently shoved out of the corner picture to … wow, did you pick up on that response regarding Troy Polamalu Tuesday?
Question: “If Polamalu says he can play and is medically cleared to play, does he automatically get a helmet?”
Tomlin: “Like I said regarding all those injury circumstances, we’re going to do what’s right. The decisions are complex, and they’re not going to boil down to just simply medical clearance. We’re too far on the journey for that to be the case. There are complexities to these things, and we’re going to deal with them on a case-by-case basis at the appropriate time. The No. 1 element of discussion is the overall health of the individual whether it’s Troy or Ike or Le’Veon or Ryan Shazier. That’s the significant element of the discussion but not the sole element of the discussion.”
Oh, my.
Tomlin could have answered that with a simple ‘yes,’ and no one would have invested a second thought into it. But he basically left open the possibility that a first-ballot Hall of Famer could be left on the sideline in favor of Will Allen.
Understand, I’m not debating that in and of itself. I’m on record as liking Allen’s work, especially on run defense, and that will be key against the Ravens’ Justin Forsett.
But that’s some rare territory being tread there, to put it mildly.
Certainly not the kind of stuff a coach could even contemplate if he weren’t untouchable.