Peter Diana, Post-Gazette Steelers Hines Ward, Joey Porter and several teammates jump in the back of Jerome Bettis' new Chevy pickup truck after practice last week. Bettis received the truck for getting the 2005 Howie Long Tough Man Award. Click photo for larger image. More PG on the Playoffs Jets land at Heinz Field as Steelers playoff foe Gene Collier: Coach of year? Pick was no party for Marty Share your Black & Gold displays

Kumbaya, Alan Faneca called it -- but then he paused, suddenly and awkwardly aware of just how strange that word sounded coming from the jowl of a goateed, 6-foot-5 run-blocking behemoth.

So Faneca tried again, attempting to describe the evening -- and yes, he could rightfully pinpoint the Steelers' tight-like-spandex chemistry on one evening -- when a Florida hurricane at once tore a state apart and brought a team together.

"It was like Boy Scout camp or something," Faneca said.

Another pause. "Uh," he continued, "not that I know what Boy Scout camp is like."

Adapt the 2004 Steelers' kumbaya moment into cinema, and it's billed most appropriately as a comedy, which fits perfectly for a team linebacker James Farrior tags as "just a bunch of goofballs." And on Sept. 25, as Hurricane Jeanne razed through Florida, that band of jocular jocks -- the 2004 Steelers -- huddled on the eighth and ninth floors of their Westin Hotel in Fort Lauderdale.

Wind thrashed outside. The hotel's electricity died. Flashlights turned on. And just like that, 50-odd grown men filtered into the hotel hallways and started feeling like 10-year-olds.

Coach Bill Cowher shed his authoritarian pall and jumped into a game of flashlight tag. Players shared stories and laughs about training camp and college. "They were just so cool," said Natasha Mareus, a Westin employee working that night. "They acted even better than our standard guests."

At the time, they were members of a team teetering with uncertainty -- they headed into that weekend's game against Miami with a 1-1 record, no proven quarterback and little conception that they would spend the next four months transforming Pittsburgh's image from yinz to wins.

Now, as Pittsburgh prepares for an AFC divisional playoff game against the New York Jets at 4:30 p.m. Saturday at Heinz Field, Steelers coaches and players alike call this year's team the closest in years.

"The only difference between other years and this year is team chemistry," wideout Hines Ward said. "And for whatever reason, I think that when we went to Miami, the lights went out and there was no power in the hotel, we became a tight-knitted group. We had no TV and power, just each other. So we just sat out there in the hallways. I think we just became close from that point on."

An analysis of team chemistry, of course, begets the classic chicken-and-egg scenario: What comes first, the winning or the chemistry? Because surely the two walk hand-in-hand, as winning converts even the most steady malcontents into born-again good guys. (See: Dillon, Corey.) Most Steelers, Ward included, believe the team developed a unique unity long before the 2004 regular season flashed any of the magic that would become its trademark. But to be sure, the constant winning helped the Steelers maintain that chemistry.

This season, several veterans -- Chad Scott, Tommy Maddox, possibly even Kendrell Bell -- lost their starting jobs after injuries, a fate condemned by the longstanding (and, of course, unwritten) NFL ethical bylaws. Still, upon recovering from their respective injuries, Scott, Maddox and Bell never complained. The winning made their new roles, as backups, more manageable.

Then there's running back Jerome Bettis, who entered the season as a backup, turned into a starter, played like a star and finds himself back in a limited role, splitting time with Duce Staley. Through it all, he has maintained the same demeanor -- which is to say, that of a guy with a smile as wide as his midsection.

Said Bettis: "This is a unique place, because there is no hierarchy of: OK, he's a superstar, he's a role player, he's a backup and he's the guy on the practice squad. There's none of that. We're all teammates.

"I joke on all of them."

Perhaps that element, more than anything, differentiates the Steelers' locker room from other professional clubhouses. Bettis, offensive guard Keydrick Vincent said, is a one-man comedy show. Just cue the laugh track: Bettis hides himself deep inside the locker stall of reserve running back Willie Parker, intent on giving the rookie a scare when he returns from the shower. ... Bettis jaws at Chris Gardocki, a punter who, for two games a month ago, didn't have to punt. ... Bettis makes fun of offensive tackle Marvel Smith for the fatty rolls on the hind of Smith's neck.

Bettis, the Steelers' comedic sensei, has spawned a legion of teammates whose daily schedule can best be summarized as a football practice sandwiched by before -- and after -- locker-room pranking.

"I'm usually on the receiving end," kicker Jeff Reed said, who counter-exemplified that, while speaking, by tossing a soccer ball at nearby teammate Antwaan Randle El.

"Randle El," Vincent suddenly said, "he looks like a poodle."

"Well," Randle El responded, nodding at Vincent, "you look like Shrek."

And so it goes on, until the goofiness translates into closeness. Sometimes literally. Scott, Marvel Smith, Plaxico Burress and Ben Roethlisberger live within one street of one another on Herr's Island, a spit of land jutting from the Allegheny River. Several years ago, Scott became the first Steelers player to buy a place there. Then he started recruiting teammates. And, to make a story short, that's how Roethlisberger and Burress -- a pair suddenly noted for its on-field chemistry -- knew one another as neighbors before they knew one another as teammates.

Such fraternal bonds trademark this year's team, and that's not even counting the interest club that could be rightfully formed among the Steelers' six or seven Hummer owners. Several players get together for routine trips to Dave and Buster's, an arcade and bar located on the Waterfront in Homestead. Last week, the team's wide receivers dined together at Nakama, a Japansese restaurant in the South Side. (Bonus points: they took their position coach.)

Some players get together for poker. Others to watch "Monday Night Football." Some simply try to find the best home cooking. "Mmm," Burress said, smacking his lips. "Kendall [Simmons'] wife makes great cornbread."

"Everybody hangs out with each other, there's a lot of joking going around," Vincent said. "A lot of people like each other, and usually on the professional level, you don't get that. But on this team, guys are going out together. People have fun."

Even in the most unusual circumstances.

"I think it all goes back down to going into that hurricane," Ward said.

Said Mareus: "They were having such fun, you wouldn't have even known there was a hurricane outside."