The Bus' parents host the Steelers for dinner
DETROIT - This is why it's so hard to tackle Jerome Bettis.
"We've got turkey, dressing, roast beef, ham, green beans, candied yams, macaroni and cheese, rice, jasmine rice, rolls," family friend Erima Saxton said in the Bettis kitchen Wednesday night.
Suffice to say, this was unlike any other team dinner for the Pittsburgh Steelers.
With the Super Bowl in his backyard, the Bus invited the boys and a few other special guests to his parents' house.
"It means a lot, especially to my mom and dad, who want to be as hospitable as they can, being that this is home for me," the burly running back said standing on the front lawn, wearing a Detroit Tigers hat and a jacket with "Detroit" across the chest.
The Steelers arrived in limos, cars and of course, a bus. Bettis said the coaches were invited, but they were too busy to attend. Still, they sent their strength and conditioning coach to check on the food.
Inside, Gladys and Johnnie Bettis were ready.
A few steps away from the kitchen - sporting earrings with the Steelers' logo - Gladys insisted she wasn't stressed.
"I'm not doing the cooking," she said.
About 90 minutes before the players arrived, Saxton stood in the kitchen, trimming fat off succulent strips of beef. Oh, and the desserts - "from cheesecake to peach cobbler," she said.
The Bus' dad already had done his share.
"I'm so tired, and my head is spinning," he said, walking up his driveway after picking up a granddaughter from school and dropping her off at dance class.
Detroit police ensured that only residents could drive on the street after parked cars had already lined the street.
"What's happening to my neighborhood?" Gail Ryder joked through the window of her car. "Really, this is so cool. We've lived on this street for 10 years, and the Bettises are the best. To have Jerome come home to play in the Super Bowl in his hometown to end his career is fabulous."
Bettis has not confirmed he will end his 13-year career Sunday, but most expect him to and his mother hopes he will.
"I think he will retire, and I hope he does. It's time," she last week sitting in her library, a shrine filled with everything from The Bus potato chips to her son's National Honor Society sash. "What else could he do to top this?"
The Bettis family hosted about 65 people in their home for a Thanksgiving dinner in 1998 when Pittsburgh played the Lions, a game remembered for a botched coin flip in overtime with Bettis as a captain.
"When we did that, I said I would never do that again," Gladys said with a smile millions have seen her son flash.
Bettis, meanwhile, didn't know what was on the menu, but knew how he wanted the meal to end.
"I'm waiting on that carrot cake," he said.
