Today, the Pittsburgh Steelers will have a victory parade through the streets of Downtown. It will follow the route of the city's annual St. Patrick's Day Parade.

This seems appropriate. The Steelers' miraculous come-from-behind win over the Arizona Cardinals proves they have more than a passing familiarity with "the luck of the Irish."

Unlike the epidemic of couch burnings and bus shaking that broke out when the Steelers clenched their sixth Super Bowl win Sunday night that resulted in 83 arrests, there will probably be few, if any, arrests today.

Still, something reminiscent of the social contagion at the heart of "The Lord of the Flies" infects a football town when its team brings home the Lombardi Trophy.

I get the happiness and pride every Steelers fan has in cheering on this tough, old school franchise. I understand the endorphin rush that comes with witnessing a beloved team pull off an unlikely victory with less than a minute of play left on the clock.

What I don't get is the compulsion to overturn cars, break windows of presumably Steelers-friendly businesses, make trash can bonfires or dance on top of Port Authority buses. I don't think I would get it even if I was a drunken 19-year-old, either.

I also don't get the fascination with the minstrel face and body paint that seems to be a big part of home game rituals. There are too many half-naked fans in the stands on even the coldest day at Heinz Field to chalk it up to harmless enthusiasm. There's something dark and strange afoot when a 300-pounder shows up looking like a fat Al Jolson

OK, maybe I'm overthinking some of this. I understand that bacchanalian excess is commonplace after a big victory at, say, Penn State. But is it too much to expect the kind of things that happen in Happy Valley to stay in Happy Valley? Why are University of Pittsburgh students setting fires in the middle of Oakland? What is that supposed to signify?

You don't have to be a social scientist to figure out some of what's going on, I suppose. Steelersmania is the one great regional faith capable of uniting people from diverse tribes who are typically at each other's throats.

While pagan in orientation, Steelersmania is ruthlessly egalitarian. Women, construction workers, poets, conspiracy theorists, meatheads, university professors, Starbucks baristas, clergy, street cleaners, cops, gang-bangers and supermarket clerks all love the Pittsburgh Steelers.

A couple of my gay colleagues wore cornerback William Gay's No. 22 jersey to work last Friday to express their love for the game. To be a true fan means to accept the Steelers Nation for what it is -- a vast fraternity of Yinzers by birth or voluntary assimilation. Steelersmania makes no distinction between gender, race or sexual orientation.

Even President Barack Obama watched the game at the White House over the weekend. Mr. Obama may be an honorary member of Steelers Nation thanks to his friendship with the Rooney family, but he claims he's been rooting for the Steelers since the 1970s. He's a Chicago Bears fan first, but a Steelers fan by default.

Now that I've lived in Pittsburgh for more than two decades, even I have begun to face the fact that it no longer makes sense to support my old home town team, the Philadelphia Eagles.

Because everything you've ever heard about the evil, cult-like behavior of Eagles fans is true, you can understand my reluctance to leave the fold. Leaving Eagles fandom, even when you've been an inactive fan as long as I have been, is a lot like leaving a gang. You expect to get stomped as you're walking out the door.

Still, there's a memorable scene in the 1992 documentary "Manufacturing Consent: Noam Chomsky and the Media" that every football fan really ought to take to heart.

Standing before a live audience, the influential linguist and political dissident explained his theory of propaganda and how organized spectacles contribute to the ruling class's ongoing attempts at social control.

"Take sports," Mr. Chomsky said. "That's another crucial example of the indoctrination system, in my view. For one thing because it offers people something to pay attention to that's of no importance. [Audience laughter.] You know, I remember in high school, already I was pretty old. I suddenly asked myself at one point, why do I care if my high school team wins the football game? [Audience laughter.] I mean, I don't know anybody on the team, you know? [Audience roars.] I mean, they have nothing to do with me, I mean, why I am cheering for my team? It doesn't make sense.

"But the point is, it does make sense: it's a way of building up irrational attitudes of submission to authority, and group cohesion behind leadership elements -- in fact, it's training in irrational jingoism. That's also a feature of competitive sports."

I know what you're thinking, Steelers Nation: "Boo! Humbug!" on Mr. Chomsky. Fair enough. There's no reason why Steelers Nation should give Mr. Chomsky another thought as it gathers on the Boulevard of the Allies today to cheer the victorious Super Bowl champions.

There's a time to cheer and a time to weep; a time to be skeptical and a time to get with the program; a time to put down your Terrible Towels and a time to yell '"Go Stillers" at the top of one's lungs.