I COME FROM A faraway land (okay, Pittsburgh) where it’s acceptable—a point of pride, really—to wear a piece of clothing that bears the name of another grown man. Going to the grocery store? Better throw on your XXL Sidney Crosby jersey to keep you warm in the freezer aisle. I’d be in church, looking at ROETHLISBERGER hunched over a few pews ahead, muttering the Hail Mary. You think I want that dude on my mind when I’m atoning for my sins?
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The Big Black Book - Fall/Winter 2019