With the pent up frustration of failed AFC Championships of old, thousands of jubilant Pittsburgh Steeler fans swarmed out of the bars that dot Carson Street on the South Side with their thumbs jutting toward the sky cheering "one for the thumb" in celebration of the Steelers' 34-17 rout over the Denver Broncos last night.

They were among fans throughout the area who joined in the revelry after the Pittsburgh Steelers sealed their first trip to the Super Bowl since 1995. Here are snapshots of celebrations from throughout Steeler Nation:

South Side

Surrounded by police and barricades that had been put up in anticipation of a raucous crowd, hundreds of black and gold jerseys converged in front of the Burger King -- pushing friends in supermarket trolley carts, running alongside Port Authority buses and waving Terrible Towels at passersby and oncoming cars -- to sing their way into Super Bowl XL in Detroit.

Counting down the final seconds of the game in the Lockeroom Bar and Grille, Jonathan Cavell, of Mt. Lebanon, spilled out of the bar's doors into a sea of faux Joey Porters, Ben Roethlisbergers and Hines Wards as they slammed into each other and chanted "one for the thumb" and hoisted each other onto their shoulders and began a call-and-respond session of "Here we go Steelers ... to the Super Bowl."

In this netherworld of elation, Pittsburgh police officers gave and took high fives. Bicycle officer Dwayne Ausbrooks rode his bicycle up and down the nearby sidewalks of Carson Street with one finger pointed toward the sky and with revelers in tow yelling.

"Mom, this is absolutely crazy. We're going to the Super Bowl," Mr. Cavell yelled into his cell phone as he spoke to his mother -- a minister in Mt. Lebanon. "Forget the 1-4 record in the AFC championships -- we are going to Detroit."

Joyce Morel and Josie Rottolo, both waitresses at Tom's Diner, grabbed pots and wooden ladles as they began their slow jog to the center of the crowd on Carson Street while banging their pots with wide smiles on their faces.

"We are on a mission," said Ms. Morel.

"A mission to the Super Bowl," responded Ms. Rottolo.

In Jack's Bar, Jill Allison, 26, picked up Lillian March, a woman more than five decades her senior, and bounced her up and down in what could only be described as Steelers bliss.

The 81-year-old Ms. March, a proud owner of Steelers season tickets since the team played at Forbes Field, counted down the final seconds of the game and joyously pointed her thumb at the television screen. Only moments before the countdown, Ms. March announced that she had opened her mail on Saturday only to find herself the proud winner of the Steelers ticket lottery to go to Detroit.

"I never been to a Super Bowl," the octogenarian confessed. "There is always a first."

McKeesport

Deep inside Echostar, the technical call-in center for the Dish Network, a corporate insurgency was taking place to the tune of the Fox NFL sound track and hundreds of black and gold balloons.

The Denver-based company had found itself in the midst of a mutiny led by Steelers fans who had taken over the call center's cubicles and most of its wall space. Past the black-and-gold balloon archway lay a football field-sized testament to the intensity of Steelers fandom and disdain for anything resembling Denver's orange and blue.

The fervor ran so deep in McKeesport that a wager had been struck between the call-in center and its headquarters in Denver -- if the Steerlers won, the headquarters would be required to fly a Steelers Nation flag in the center of its office. If the Steelers lost, a Broncos flag would be hoisted in the McKeesport center.

Employees were not in this for fun and games. So, in a show of confidence in their team -- one that proved to be sweet in the end -- the call-in center sent scores of Terrible Towels and the Steelers flag via FedEx two days before the game.

"This is not just a game," said Dana Bell, an operations manager, who once lived in Denver, but never pledged allegiance to the streaking orange and blue colt of the Broncos. "This is football."

Inside the call-in center, where thousands of calls stream in on how to attach VCRs and DVDs to satellite systems, 100 yards of black and gold balloons, streamers, flags and jerseys hung from the complicated maze of cubicles.

With her little magenta CD player in hand, Michelle Sassi, approached a manager and asked if she could play her daughter's Steelers CD, which instantly began to blare "Here we go, Steelers, Here we go..."

Bodies began to emerge out of small cubicle walls and feet started tapping, sending some of the more fervent fans into a semi-touchdown celebration with their telephone head pieces still attached.

"I won't play it too loud," Ms. Sassi pleaded. She got her way.

The only setback for the 350 employees -- who might have occasionally put a customer on hold to express disgust with referees or celebrate a touchdown by waving a Terrible Towel -- seemed to be the two cubicles separated, but united with decorations in confrontational orange and blue.

Robbi Lester, the owner of one of the cubicles, is a devout Dallas Cowboys fan who had coyly dismissed colleagues threatening her with banishment.

Mrs. Lester seemed to notice a supervisor not answering her calls for help and a higher up telling her that he was going paint her car tires orange and blue. After all, what was some good natured ribbing without the occasional semi-serious threat of mutil-colored tires?

"It's all in good fun," said Mrs. Lester, who claimed to not notice putting on blue sweat pants, an orange T-shirt and a thatched hat with two orange and blue balloons attached.

The Steelers won. The call center went wild. Hugs ensued.

Mrs. Lester never came back.

Denver

Outside Invesco Field, crowding around the ramp where most of the Steelers exited to greet family and friends, roughly 1,500 Steelers fans gave the new AFC Champions a hero's welcome.

Daniel Mohan, a Sharon native living in Austin, Texas, said the excitement was a long time coming.

"I was cheering in 1995; I was there," Mr. Mohan, a software engineer, said of the last AFC Championship Game victory by the Steelers, at Three Rivers Stadium. The Steelers won so often in the 1970s, going to four Super Bowls, but losing four of five conference finals in the Bill Cowher era was growing a bit monotonous.

"It's not that strange. But it feels a little unfamiliar," said Mr. Mohan, clad in a white Rocky Bleier No. 20 jersey.

Next to Mr. Mohan at the top of the ramp stood Rob Asbjornsen, 36, of Phoenix, along with his son, Jake, 10. They were among the many fans getting autographs, snapping photos or holding cell phones to allow friends to hear the cacophony.

"Happy to see these guys finally make it," said Asbjornsen, a member of what he calls the second-largest Steelers club outside Pittsburgh, with 2,000 or so Arizona-based fans who convene at a tavern in the north-Phoenix suburb of Cave Creek.

Latrobe

At St. Vincent College, students and employees who have spent summers working at Steelers training camp watched the game in a student lounge overlooking the practice field and the dorms where players stay. The Steelers aren't just their team -- they consider them friends.

"Jerome [Bettis] looked so happy. Oh, I'm going to cry," said Mary Hahn, 19, a sophomore from Ford City, who supervises children in the Steelers Experience child care area at camp.

"Jerome is a real nice guy. You would think he'd be cocky because he's a great pro player. But around campus, he'll always wave and come talk to you."

During the game, Ms. Hahn was folding white towels for her work study job in the campus fitness center. Eddie McAndrews, 19, her classmate and co-worker from the Steelers Experience, grabbed one to wave as he would a Terrible Towel.

"They're wearing white," he explained. It's literally true that the championship couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of guys, he said.

"During camp, they all talked to us. We aren't allowed to ask for autographs, but they come to us and offer."

Behind them, coffee bar worker Jessica Morrell, 23, who works security in camp, set up her notebook computer to broadcast the "Here We Go" Steelers anthem.

"Now, when we get that One For The Thumb, then what is the song going to say?" Ms. Hahn said.

Mr. McAndrews expects to watch the Super Bowl at home with his family in Beechview. Ms. Hahn thought she might return to the student lounge.

"Maybe it's good luck," she said.

Franklin Park

The wedding picture that hung over the mantle opposite of the 32-inch Zenith television the couples have crowded around for 15 years has long been replaced.

The new picture -- a poster of Ben Roethlisberger -- fits this family better. The children are clad in Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirts in school photographs.

It's the playoffs, after all, and Kay Hubal and her husband, Jim, have plastered their three children's Pittsburgh Steelers art around their home and hung a banner up in the front window. Another banner is staked into the ground in the front yard along with a sign warning that "parking is reserved for Pittsburgh Steelers fans."

The playoffs in the Hubal home is no game. The Steelers are all business and so are the Hubals, who have been rotating Sundays between their house and their friends John and Kim Watson's house for 15 years. The game, which is steeped in tradition, requires an eye for detail.

Mrs. Hubal makes sure nothing is out of place as to not jinx the Steelers and advises a newcomer that he must stop by the house on Super Bowl game day because he showed up for this win.

And as the couples fought with the referees through the television tube and screamed and writhed with anguish for not going to the bathroom, they counted down the final seconds of the AFC Championship and toasted one last wave of champagne for a win.

"This is the big time, this what separates the men from the boys," Mrs. Hubal said. "Two weeks of fun and it's back to business."