Lessons From The Road

Elizabeth Merrill (Thanks, Justin): The long way twists under steel bridges and grinding engines, with darkness and pokes of sunlight, water and the cluttered madness of downtown Pittsburgh. Ben Roethlisberger doesn't know why he steers his motorcycle this way. He rarely takes the long route. But he's young, the temperature is 62 degrees on a summer morning, and he isn't in a hurry.

The workout he's headed to at the Steelers' practice facility is voluntary. The Chunky Soup commercial he's supposed to do is light and breezy.

The helmet he wants to wear is being painted to match his shiny Suzuki Hayabusa.

There are a hundred little things to do, and two ways to take. One would have him at 3400 South Water Street for another not-so-mundane day in the life of Ben Roethlisberger. The other has him sprawled out on the concrete during the lunch rush in a puddle of oil and blood.

"I don't say it was fate," Roethlisberger says. "I say it's God's plan."