The barkeeps along Carson Street say they haven’t seen Ben Roethlisberger around in a while. They’d know if he were here. Pittsburgh, at its core, is one big little city. And people talk.
Steel mills used to drive the South Side, but sweat and grit have been replaced by Abercrombie & Fitch. It’s a trendy area now, loaded with yuppies, college kids and watering holes. This used to be Roethlisberger’s stomping grounds — well, one of them — and stories flow like Iron City beer from a tap.
There was a time, back in the boozy, pre-scandal days, when Roethlisberger could triple a bar’s foot traffic within an hour. He’d show up at Jack’s Rose Bar, a couple of patrons would grab their cell phones and text BIG BEN’S HERE, and the party would begin.
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