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Steele doesn’t need night life. A rack of Natty Ice, a rare steak, Jethro Tull in the background playing and some hag with hands like steel wool tugging on him while he tells her about how much tougher Lb’s were in the 70’s.

With all the sopping wet twatsickles we had on our roster and I’ll assume Steele was a bit of an old school personality I’m sure they went to bed crying about how mean he was. Meanwhile Steele prob left practice hammered a 40 of Steel Reserve and plowed some lot lizard at a truck stop. Prob...