And on the 9th day God looked down on his planned paradise and said, I need someone to make some damned sense out of all of this. And so, God made a yinzer.
God said "I need someone to wear shorts in the middle of winter and yank his sweatpants up in the heat of summer. I need somebody to get up before dawn, drink beer while standing in a parking lot hours before game time, and, although he has no tickets to game, stay there listening to the radio all afternoon long, there, in the parking lot. And when the game is over, continue to drink beer." So, God made a yinzer.
"I need somebody with strong arms. Strong enough to twirl a towel, yet gentle enough to put a fine sheen on a Z-28 Camaro. God said “I need somebody that can shape a mullet, build a pair of flip flops out of an old car tire, make a volleyball net from a clothesline and stretch a gallon of Kool Aid to quench the thirst of fourteen children, some of whom may indeed be hers." So, God made a yinzer.
God had to have somebody willing to place a lawn chair in front of his house to save a parking spot for a car he’s yet to purchase and be willing to stay up all night sitting under the porch light with a bb gun at the ready to defend that chair. It had to be somebody who’d know the difference between a Skyscraper and a Klondike, someone loyal enough to be willing to meet you at the Kaufmann’s clock or tell you when Kennywood’s open. Somebody to hate the Browns, the Flyers and the Reds, and love the Chief, the Great One and Le Manifique. Somebody who’d duct tape a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who’d laugh and then sigh…and then respond with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life “drinking like Dad does”.
So, God made a yinzer.