Believe me, Ben. Nobody wished this on you, but you’re going to have to take some big blame… Believe me, Ben. Nobody wished this on you, but you’re going to have to take some big blame for this here incident.

That’s right, big guy. This one falls squarely on your broad shoulders, and nothing is going to change that.

Believe me, I’d like nothing more than to enact some sort of archaic transitive property that manages to pin this one on Barry Bonds, but I’m still looking. Until then, though, you’re going to have to take the blame.

Aside from those interceptions in the 2005 AFC Divisional Playoffs, this is your first mistake as a Steeler, only this will be a lot tougher to fix.

That shiny ring on your finger isn’t going to make this go away, either. Don’t expect your jaw-dropping passing statistics while under pressure to get you out of this jam, either. Your 27-4 record as a starter? Not going to keep you from getting sacked here.

You’re going to have to do a lot more than that to make this thing go away.

Luckily for you, that won’t have to occur right away. Others’ concerns over your health will swallow up the attention that your selfishness actually deserves for the time being.

And rightfully so — nobody wants to see you get hurt, Ben. The primary concern shared by all involved with both the Steelers and the NFL should be getting you back onto the field and off your bike.

But given that you are thankfully headed for a full recovery and might not miss one minute of game action in 2006, that concern will form only a temporary pocket around you. You’re going to have to answer some tough questions, form some profound explanations and dish out some apologies, all while taking in the fact that things will never be quite the same for you.

It’s going to take your apologizing to your teammates, your concerned head coach (who tried to get you off the bike a while ago) and a front office that, up until now, must have been proud to have never seen you do wrong while donning black and gold. You’ll have to tell them that you in fact did not learn from previous athletes’ dangerous bouts with motorcycles, including Kellen Winslow Jr.’s accident last year in which he lost a hefty sum of money to the Cleveland Browns.

You’ll also have to admit that you didn’t learn from watching Jay Williams’ well-documented fall.

The former Duke guard and Chicago Bulls lottery pick is still attempting to play again after a near-fatal motorcycle crash back in 2003 rendered him helpless. Like he in that situation, you declined a helmet, which Pennsylvania state law does give you the right to do. Although unwise, you heard the suggestions that you wear one and politely declined.

I’ve notice that you have something else in common with Mr. Williams: You were only thinking of yourself when you decided to be so reckless. The fact remains that the Steelers have put enough stock in you to the point where you should listen to them if they advise you against something, but you just wouldn’t listen.

And that’s unfortunate, Ben. I’ve never met you, but I’ve always wanted to believe you to be more considerate than that. Following the Winslow accident, Bill Cowher met with you to discuss your riding, expressing concern on behalf of all of Pittsburgh’s front office and all of Steeler nation, but you couldn’t be bothered. You eluded him as he if were rushing you in the pocket.

Never mind the fact that you’re the poster child for one of the most beloved organizations in all of professional sports. Forget the fact that said franchise status is why you make more than many skeptics thought you could coming out of a “measly” MAC school. You couldn’t be bothered to make an effort to aide those who have invested so much in you at such a young age. You appear too cool for something that might save your life.

You might even have to pay back some of the money, but we know that the Steelers couldn’t care less about stealing pennies from your jar. This isn’t about money, it’s about your well-being and when questioned about your safety habits well in advance of this incident, you activated the elementary school version of defense better known as “I can do whatever I want.” People just love that.

Well, I shouldn’t say that, Ben, because you’re worshipped here, so people are probably fine with that mentality. We are, however, talking about a group of people who would probably rather amend the helmet law themselves than saddle you with a shred of blame in this accident. You’re more to Pittsburgh than a quarterback; you’re an icon to which all future young quarterbacks will be compared. How do you thank those who worship you? You scare the living daylights out of them by riding against your team’s will, something that you told ESPN last year is just as much a risk as anything else in life.

Everything may be a risk, Ben, but why risk even more by getting on a bike when you make roughly the GDP of some small nations?

You’re also going to have to get up in front of these people and admit that you’ve adamantly exercised poor judgment by refusing to wear a helmet while riding. That you were fully aware of what might happen but it wouldn’t have been cool to wear a helmet and be safe. What would be even better would be your telling them that the bike was being stashed away for a while.

You owe it to these people. They worship you in ways that I’ve never seen and in ways you would probably not get at any other franchise. There are some people who couldn’t have cared less about football until you set foot in Heinz Field. Now some of them are wearing your jersey.

There’s even a group on Facebook, that powerful yet eerie Internet database, here at Pitt titled “Ben Roethlisberger is the Man, No Questions asked.”

Well I’ve got a question, Ben. How could you be this selfish?

Geoff Dutelle is a senior staff writer for The Pitt News. E-mail him at