In last night’s Super Bowl, ex-Steelers LB James Harrison got exposed for what he is: WASHED UP.
Harrison had two tackles, but missed four or five. He mustered little pressure on Philadelphia QB Nick Foles despite playing against a backup T.
Harrison fanboys want to edit the truth: “He got pressure! He set the edge! That’s what Deebo does! He sets the edge!”
But the Eagles got 164 yards rushing. If Harrison “set the edge,” he didn’t do it very well.
Harrison got zero sacks. New England got zero sacks. If Foles was pressured, it didn’t stop him from throwing for 373 yards and three touchdowns to earn Super Bowl MVP honors.
In the biggest game of the season, Harrison looked like the over-the-hill old man the Steelers knew he was when they didn’t play him.
Harrison pimped himself out at 39 to get a ring. But all he did was ruin his legacy in Pittsburgh.
Glare all you want. Make a mean face all you want. Post a million workout videos on social media. It doesn’t mean you can still play.
Harrison can’t. He hit the wall at the Super Bowl.