Pittsburgh showed up for the NFL Draft — and so did everyone else

Pittsburgh had its moment on the national football stage, and the region delivered.

I spent most of Friday and Saturday in Downtown Pittsburgh and on the North Shore, taking in the NFL Draft events, walking around, talking with visitors and soaking up a weekend that felt equal parts football festival and Pittsburgh pride.

It was a blast.

I started both days in Moon, parking at the park-and-ride lot and taking Pittsburgh Regional Transit’s Football Flyer into town. It was quick and easy. As a public transit fan, it was a great way to invite suburbanites and people who don’t think about public transit to experience a big event and skip the traffic, letting someone else handle the drive.

The bus rides became part of the experience. I met people from Ohio, Illinois, California, Washington state and New England. Some were staying in hotels around Moon, Robinson and the airport area. Others had driven in from Ohio for the day. There were Browns fans, Chargers fans, Bengals fans, Ravens fans (ugh) and, yes, even Eagles fans (boo!).

Terrible Towel display

That was one of the best parts of the weekend: Seeing so many different fan bases walking around Pittsburgh. Team jerseys, hats and shirts were everywhere — on the bus, Downtown, along the North Shore and even at the Sheetz in Moon. There is something funny and wonderful about walking into a Sheetz and seeing a mix of Steelers, Browns, Ravens, Vikings, Cowboys and Bengals gear all in one place.

That does not happen every day.

Steely McBeam

Downtown and the North Shore were packed with things to see and do. There were displays, fan experiences, photo opportunities (managed to get a selfie with Steely McBeam!) and plenty of reasons to stop every few feet and look around. The giant Terrible Towel display was a highlight. So were the Lombardi trophies, because let’s be honest, Pittsburgh knows a thing or six about those.

I also spotted NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell and saw plenty of well-known Pittsburghers throughout the weekend.

Roger Goodell
NFL commissioner

One of my favorite moments was watching Montour High School graduate Michael Keaton present a draft pick. (You might know him as Batman.)

Michael Keaton

There were plenty of those moments.

I watched Pat McAfee host a kicking contest at Heinz Field — yes, I still call it Heinz Field — and got walked on the field. For any football fan, that is a pretty cool experience. For someone from Pittsburgh, it hits a little differently. You look around and think of all the games, all the players, all the memories and all the times that stadium has been part of the region’s story. (*hits play on “Renegade”*)

After the draft events, I spent some time walking around Downtown. I stopped into the Silly Goose gift shop, the second location of the store that started in Jim Thorpe, Pa. The owner has become well-known on social media among Pennsylvanians for his dry humor and fun personality, so it was nice to check out the Pittsburgh version in person.

Silly Goose on Wood Street in Pittsburgh

And, because no good Downtown outing is complete without a treat, I got ice cream from Millie’s.

What I loved most was not just the draft itself. It was seeing people experience Pittsburgh.

The NFL Draft gave us a chance to show off a little.

I hope the fans who came here had a great time. I hope they tell people back home that Pittsburgh was worth the trip. And more than anything, I hope they come back.

Because as fun as the draft was, it was only one weekend. There is so much more Pittsburgh waiting for them.

Pittsburgh is on the clock for the NFL Draft, and it’s about time

The NFL Draft coming to Pittsburgh is exciting for a lot of reasons.

There’s the football, of course. There’s the national attention. There’s the chance to welcome fans from across the country to a city that knows a thing or two about the game.

But more than anything, the draft gives Pittsburgh a chance to show people who we are now.

For too long, too many people have held onto an outdated image of Pittsburgh — smoky skies, steel mills and a city stuck in the past. That history matters. It shaped us. It gave this region its grit, its work ethic and its identity.

But Pittsburgh is not a smoggy old mill town waiting to be rediscovered.

We’ve been here all along.

And when the NFL Draft brings visitors, media and football fans to town, they’re going to see a city that is beautiful, lively and full of things to do.

They’ll see our rivers. They’ll see our skyline. They’ll see Downtown, the North Shore, Mount Washington and all sorts of areas that can tell the Pittsburgh story first-hand.

They’ll see a city and region that has changed without forgetting where it came from.

Downtown deserves the spotlight

Pittsburgh’s Downtown is made for a moment like this.

It’s walkable. It’s scenic. It’s packed with history, restaurants, hotels, theaters and riverfront views. You can stand at Point State Park and look out at the place where the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers meet to form the Ohio. You can walk across a bridge to the North Shore. You can look up and see hillsides rising around the city.

That’s not something every city can offer.

And for visitors coming in for the draft, Downtown will be more than a backdrop. It will be part of the experience.

They’ll be able to explore before and after events. They’ll be able to walk to restaurants, museums, bars, theaters and hotels. They’ll be able to see why so many of us love this place—even when we complain about construction, parking or which tunnel is backed up.

Because all of that makes Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh.

We’re more than steel, even if steel helped make us

Pittsburgh should never run away from its steel history or blue-collar mindset.

The mills built communities. They brought families here. They helped create the work ethic people still associate with this region.

But the mistake is thinking the story stopped there.

Today’s Pittsburgh is a city of education, medicine, technology, arts, culture, research, food, sports and neighborhoods with strong identities. It is a place where old industrial buildings have found new life, where riverfronts have become gathering places and where people still feel connected to their communities.

That’s what the NFL Draft can help show.

It can show that Pittsburgh’s past is important, but it is not the only thing that defines us.

Let’s talk about “eds and meds”

People like to use the phrase “eds and meds” when they talk about Pittsburgh’s modern economy.

It can sound a little too simple, but there’s truth behind it.

Our universities, hospitals and research institutions have helped carry this region into a new era. They bring students, doctors, nurses, researchers, professors, patients, families and workers into Pittsburgh from all over the world.

Our museums are worth the trip

Pittsburgh also has museums that deserve national attention.

The Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh are one of the region’s great cultural assets. Carnegie Museum of Art, Carnegie Museum of Natural History, Kamin Science Center and The Andy Warhol Museum give visitors a little bit of everything — art, science, history, dinosaurs, innovation and one of Pittsburgh’s most famous creative voices.

The Heinz History Center tells the story of Western Pennsylvania in a way that helps people understand how this region grew, changed and contributed to the country.

And Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens is one of the most beautiful places in the city. It is a reminder that Pittsburgh is greener, brighter and more alive than outsiders sometimes expect.

These are places that make Pittsburgh richer. They give families, students, visitors and longtime residents reasons to keep learning and exploring.

Don’t forget the libraries

Pittsburgh is also a library city.

The Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh system is one of the city’s most important civic resources. Its branches serve neighborhoods across the city and offer far more than books. They offer programming, public space, internet access, job resources, children’s activities and a place for people to gather.

Across the county, the Allegheny County Library Association and the network of suburban libraries do the same kind of work.

Libraries are one of the best measures of a community’s priorities. In Pittsburgh and Allegheny County, they remain vital pieces of public life.

When visitors come here, they may notice the stadiums first. That’s fine. They’re hard to miss.

But part of what makes Pittsburgh special is that our pride extends beyond sports. It includes the places that help people read, learn, connect and grow.

The arts are part of the city’s heartbeat

Let’s not forget about Pittsburgh’s arts scene.

The Cultural District has helped make Downtown a destination for theater, music, dance and public art. The Pittsburgh Cultural Trust has been a major part of that transformation.

Pittsburgh CLO brings musical theater to generations of audiences. Heinz Hall remains one of Downtown’s great landmarks and the home of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. The Benedum Center, Byham Theater and other venues help keep the city’s arts scene active year-round.

This is another part of Pittsburgh that surprises people.

They come expecting sports. They find theater, music, dance, galleries, festivals and public art.

That combination is what makes the city interesting. You can go from a football game on the North Shore to a show Downtown in the same night. You can spend one day at a museum and the next at Kennywood.

There’s plenty of fun here, too

Speaking of Kennywood, the isn’t limited to Downtown and the city’s limits.

Kennywood is one of the great Pittsburgh traditions. Generations of families have gone there for roller coasters, Potato Patch fries and summer nights that feel like childhood.

Just down the road from Kennywood, its water park, Sandcastle, gives the region a place to cool off along the Monongahela River. (Not in, though — let’s make that distinction, haha.)

And about an hour away from Kennywood is sister park Idlewild, which is part of the Western Pennsylvania family tradition, especially for younger kids and parents who want a day that feels a little slower and a little sweeter. Daniel Tiger and his friends are among the main attractions at Idlewild.

This is Pittsburgh’s moment

The NFL Draft will bring attention to Pittsburgh.

That is good for the city. It is good for restaurants, hotels, small businesses and attractions. It is good for the people who have been saying for years that Pittsburgh deserves more credit than it gets.

But the most exciting part is not just that people will come here, it is that they will see a city with three rivers, great neighborhoods, strong institutions, beautiful parks, serious culture and a sense of identity that cannot be — dare I say — manufactured.

They will see that Pittsburgh is not stuck in the past.

They will see that we are proud of where we came from and excited about where we are going.

And maybe, after a few days here, they’ll understand what we already know: Pittsburgh is a great place to visit, a great place to explore and a great place to call home.

You should care more about the Nexstar/Tegna merger than you do

You should care more about the Nexstar/Tegna merger than you do because it will have an impact on you — and it won’t be good.

A friend who still works in news texted me this morning after the Nexstar/Tegna merger news: “You got out at the right time.”

I had already been talking with two other friends about the merger — one who works in news and one who also got out — when she messaged that.

Her words really struck me. Leaving journalism is something I wrestle with far too often.

I miss following stories that actually affected people’s lives — directly and indirectly, and in ways they did not even realize.

I miss knowing more than the average person about what was happening in local government, in schools, in neighborhoods, on roads people drive every day.

I miss asking elected officials very basic questions and watching them get annoyed that someone was paying attention.

I miss all of what news was.

I left full-time journalism at the end of 2022.

At the time, I was working for a television news company, but none of this happened overnight. I had seen the shift starting years earlier — even a decade earlier — as people became more hostile toward local news and as newsrooms slowly started prioritizing things other than the news itself. For me, 2020 felt like a tipping point. That is when everything already in motion seemed to move into overdrive.

Important news was still getting covered. Real journalism was still happening.

But as attention spans waned and eyeballs wandered to other forms of media (like TikTok, Instagram, YouTube), the draw to make headlines more sensational, videos shorter with less information and more gimmicks only intensified.

And it was not just happening in TV. It was happening everywhere.

There appeared to be less emphasis on actually informing people and more emphasis on feeding the machine.

More and more news outlets were referring to news as “content.” And that “content” included links to Amazon products, useless user-submitted photo galleries, rewritten news releases and archived video made to look like something new.

And, I need to note, good journalism is still out there. People are still fighting to do quality journalism every day.

But too much of it is buried under junk, largely driven by the powers that be (typically, people who just have money to buy a news outlet or a few and have no actual concern about the news — or people being driven by those demands).

Maybe my friend is right. Maybe I did get out at the right time.

But I still go back and forth. Some days, I feel like I let news down by leaving. Other days, I know I was protecting myself by stepping away from a fight that already felt lost.

What is Pittsburgh without the Post-Gazette?

Like sands through the hourglass… the drama around the impending death of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette just keeps getting more convoluted.

On Jan. 7, Block Communications dropped a bomb on the region: The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette — a newspaper that’s been part of this community’s civic fabric for nearly 240 years — will publish its final edition May 3, and the entire operation will cease to exist.

This isn’t just another checkmark in the long casualty list of American journalism. This is the newspaper that defined reporting in Pittsburgh, that held power accountable and that offered depth few outlets even attempt anymore.

And soon, it will be gone.

How did the PG get here?

In July 2020, the Post-Gazette declared an impasse in contract negotiations with the Newspaper Guild of Pittsburgh and unilaterally altered employees’ terms of employment, including health care. (Federal labor authorities later ruled those actions violated labor law.)

That decision sparked a newsroom strike on Oct. 18, 2022, that stretched on for more than three years, officially ending Nov. 13, 2025. PG journalists had been without a contract since 2017.

More recently, a federal appeals court upheld a ruling requiring the company to honor its labor obligations. Block Communications sought a stay from the U.S. Supreme Court. When the justices refused to grant it, the company chose closure over compliance.

The scramble to save something — anything

Since the Blocks refused to comply with the ruling, local groups and individuals have announced a flurry of plans — to expand coverage, remind readers they exist, build something new or attempt to acquire PG assets to keep something alive.

Nearly 50 newsroom staffers who did not strike have called for new union elections and proposed either saving the paper or starting a new one.

Those 49 staffers appear ready to bend the knee. “In today’s media landscape, we must be realistic, not idealistic,” they wrote collectively, adding that they want to “change the tone of our union’s relationship with the Post-Gazette.” Because that has ever worked well for unions.

In a separate effort, former Penguins executive Kevin Acklin is attempting to line up investors to convert the Post-Gazette into a nonprofit newsroom. In an interview with Axios Pittsburgh, Acklin said he had a “good opening conversation” with Allan Block, CEO of Block Communications.

“We feel strongly that converting to a nonprofit is a very attractive alternative to shutting down the Post-Gazette,” Acklin said. “I am hopeful the present ownership group recognizes the importance of the paper to the ongoing vitality of our city.”

His full letter to Block was published in a WESA story.

Meanwhile, the Newspaper Guild of Pittsburgh has launched its own initiative — Pittsburgh Alliance for People-Empowered Reporting, or PAPER — aimed at carrying forward the spirit of PG journalism outside Block ownership. The union recently held a virtual meeting that it says drew 145 attendees, despite technical hiccups.

“You made it very clear that you’re eager for an alternative to the Block-owned PG — for something that authentically connects our communities and better reflects the concerns of working-class people,” the guild wrote in a follow-up message. The group plans a public launch in the coming days.

And if all of that weren’t enough, the Tribune-Review announced it will launch a weekend “Pittsburgh” print edition starting May 9. A weekly printed summary of news is not a daily newsroom embedded in the region it serves. Trib staffers are already stretched thin covering Westmoreland County, the Alle-Kiski Valley and whatever drives clicks online.

(Also: why this wasn’t launched before the PG’s closure is anyone’s guess — and speaks volumes.)

A fractured news ecosystem

Pittsburgh won’t technically become a “news desert” when the Post-Gazette closes. There are other news outlets — and operations masquerading as news outlets — that all provide some level of journalism or information sharing.

Public Source. Next Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh Magazine. CityCast Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh Jewish Chronicle. Pittsburgh Business Times. Axios Pittsburgh. Plus television and radio: KDKA-TV, WTAE, WPXI, WESA and KDKA Radio.

None of them offers the depth, breadth or daily accountability journalism the Post-Gazette once provided. Some, in fact, often rely on the PG for their own reporting.

That fragmentation has been happening for years as the paper downsized following circulation cuts, ad revenue losses and Block dysfunction: Suburban weeklies reduced to ad circulars, websites with little original reporting, influencer feeds posing as news, PR firms pushing spin, communications teams rebranded as “content creators.”

You already have to work to find real reporting on Pittsburgh and Allegheny County. Removing the Post-Gazette doesn’t simplify the ecosystem — it makes it harder.

The PG’s decline also mirrors a national trend. Locally, the region has lost countless newspapers that once covered suburban communities, school boards and borough councils. With those losses went community calendars, nonprofit announcements and everyday civic information.

People used to look in one place to understand what was happening around them. Now they must subscribe to a patchwork of newsletters, Facebook groups and alerts — and still get less news.

Newspapers helped build community

“The local newspaper not only informs citizens but also helps build community among its readers,” Andrew Conte wrote in his 2022 book, “Death of the Daily News: How Citizen Gatekeepers Can Save Local Journalism,” which examined the closure of the McKeesport Daily News.

Conte references political scientist Robert Putnam’s “Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community,” which argues that social capital — networks of trust and civic participation — has been eroding for decades. Putnam also found a link between newspaper readership and civic engagement.

Without newspapers, it becomes harder for people to share information, build trust and participate meaningfully in public life.

The trance we didn’t notice

Conte also cites media theorist Marshall McLuhan, who warned about society’s failure to recognize how new media reshape behavior.

“If we continue in our self-induced subliminal trance, we will be their slaves,” McLuhan said, referring to electronic media of the time — notably, television.

He died in 1980, three years before the internet.

Apply that logic to cable TV, video games, computers, smartphones, streaming, social media — and now AI. There may never have been a moment more hostile to shared facts and verified information than now.

A less informed public and fractured communities create fertile ground for misinformation, distrust and apathy. Chaos.

This isn’t nostalgia

I love news. I love newsrooms.

But this isn’t nostalgia. It’s a sober assessment from someone who’s worked in journalism and understands what quality reporting actually looks like — as both a journalist and a reader.

Pittsburgh’s civic discourse — what we know, what we debate, who we hold accountable — is poorer without its paper of record. In May, we’re going to find out just how much poorer.

Hourglass / Image by Eduin Escobar from Pixabay

60 years of sands through the hourglass on ‘Days of our Lives’

It was 60 years ago today, Nov. 8, 1965, “Days of our Lives” premiered, and the sands began slipping through the hourglass.

For some, that hourglass wasn’t just a symbol of a daytime drama—it was part of the rhythm of our lives. I grew up with this show. I grew up in Salem, in a way. The Bradys, the Hortons, the DiMeras—they’re not just fictional families. They feel like part of mine.

For decades, “Days” has been a constant. Through school days, college years, life changes, heartbreaks, illnesses, summer breaks and holidays. It’s been there.

And not just as background noise, but as a thread—a familiar presence that grew and changed with me. Every dramatic twist, every outlandish plot (every baby stolen, DNA switched, elevator shaft “death”) is a moment of real emotion that made its mark. And still does.

I remember Marlena’s first possession storyline like it happened yesterday. The absolute audacity of it. I’d never seen anything like that on daytime TV. The levitation. The eyes. The chapel scenes. It was over-the-top and absolutely unforgettable.

During a medical recovery years ago, I found the storyline pieced together on YouTube and relived every moment.

Then, years later, they “Days” did it again. And somehow, it worked—again. Marlena, the heart of Salem, taken over by the devil—not once but twice. Deidre Hall carried those storylines with elegance and fire, grounding even the wildest scenes in something deeply human.

And then came Will Horton’s coming-out story. The way it unfolded felt real, complicated, emotional. It didn’t just check a box—it honored a journey. Watching Will wrestle with his truth, watching Marlena support him, seeing that story handled with such depth—it meant something. For a lot of people, it was the first time they saw a version of themselves on daytime TV. For others, it was a master class in empathy. I remember watching those scenes and thinking: this show, for all its outlandishness, has never been afraid of telling human stories.

Then this year, we lost John Black, as Drake Hogestyn died in 2024. And for longtime viewers, that was a gut punch. John Black wasn’t just another leading man. He was the rogue, the anchor, the protector, the lover. His chemistry with Marlena was lightning in a bottle. When the show said goodbye to him, it was heartbreak on top of heartbreak. But it was also beautiful. Thoughtful. You could feel the love behind every scene, both from the cast and the fans. That’s what this show does best—it honors its own history and the people who helped build it.

Even the move to Peacock—controversial at first—ended up feeling like an evolution. There was frustration, sure. Watching a show that had been free and broadcast for decades shift to a streaming service felt like a loss, like something being taken away. But there was something gained, too. Freedom. Flexibility. The show could push boundaries again, try new things, be a little bolder. And somehow, “Days” found a second wind there. A new generation found it. Longtime fans stayed. We adapted—because that’s what fans of this show have always done.

And still, through all of it, nothing gets me like the Horton Christmases. The tree. The ornaments. The way each family member carefully hangs a name, a memory, a legacy. It’s a small moment, but it hits deep every single year. It always has. Because “Days” has never just been about love triangles and evil twins and wild plot twists. It’s been about connection. Family. Resilience. The way we carry on.

It’s also something I love sharing. One of the best parts of being a “Days” fan is connecting with friends who watch, too. Whether it’s texting after a Friday cliffhanger, swapping theories about who’s behind the latest drama or just laughing about a classic Sami move, those conversations add another layer of joy. We speak the same Salem shorthand. We notice things the other missed. We catch up, fill in gaps, revisit old storylines and carry the show together. It’s more than just watching—it’s a shared habit. A language. A bond.

Sixty years. And somehow, it feels both like forever and like no time at all. I think about all the people who’ve come and gone—on screen and off. The ones who’ve grown up, grown older, left the show, returned again. The ones we’ve lost. And the fans, too—the ones who’ve been watching since day one, and the ones who just started. We’re all part of this story now.

So today, I celebrate not just a show, but a legacy. A lifeline. A constant companion. “Days of our Lives” isn’t just television. It’s memory. It’s comfort. It’s home.

And I’m grateful—for every melodramatic moment, every ornament on that tree, every hour that passed through the hourglass.