PITTSBURGH - The over/under for the Pittsburgh Steelers these days is four.
That's four sacks of the quarterback and four holding penalties against an assortment of offensive linemen.
The Steelers' biggest current issue is protecting the quarterback.
That quarterback for tonight's game in Baltimore is presumed to be Ben Roethlisberger, who spent much of the week limping through practice and being fitted for a custom-built shoe that looks like it's on loan from Herman Munster's closet.
Depending on which newspaper you read, Roethlisberger's right foot is either broken or sprained.
Playing with one foot wedged into a workshop creation isn't conducive to being nimble enough to sidestep pass rushers.
If the last couple of weeks are any indication, pass rushers will be flying past the Steelers' line with the same urgency as Black Friday shoppers at an outlet store.
If Roethlisberger can't go, the alternative is Byron Leftwich, who hasn't seen a live pass rush since he was injured in the final preseason game.
In other words, make sure your snack tray includes a supply of antacids.
This could be a stressful evening.
Something's missing this year with the Pittsburgh Penguins.
No "superstar treatment" TV commercials with Max Talbot.
The car dealership that created the ads isn't involved with the broadcasts this year.
Maybe a smart marketer will pick up the idea and cash in on the well-entrenched catchphrase.
When you think of tough guys, the mental image is always of people like Jack Lambert, Dick Butkus and, yes, James Harrison.
They're men who go about their business with a scowl.
But one of the toughest guys on the planet was Ron Santo, who invariably had a smile on his face.
Santo was the Chicago Cubs' All-Star third baseman who found a second career as a Cubs broadcaster.
He'd come to Three Rivers Stadium or PNC Park with that smile and a good word for everyone he encountered.
Yet Santo was in a constant battle for survival, the result of a multitude of major health problems.
He started each day by attaching prosthetic legs, which he needed after diabetes forced the amputation of both legs below the knees.
He had cancer. He had heart problems. But he still had that smile and a genuine appreciation for being connected to the Cubs.
Santo died the other night at 70, his heart finally giving out after decades of the good fight.
Major League Baseball needs to establish an award for courage and perseverance.
And it needs to name that award for Ron Santo.
Mehno can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.