Roethlisberger's crash hopefully will provide lesson

	Ben Roethlisberger has had a nearly perfect two-year journey in the NFL up until this point. AP
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What struck us first about him was his maturity level. His otherworldly poise and all that calm and cool under a helmet. He seemed to react and see the field well beyond his years, as if he had been there and done that long before he actually had. He possessed the arm, the head and that special grace for the game, and it somehow appeared he was born with experience on his side.

At least on the football field, that is. But Ben Roethlisberger sure could have used a little of that innate wisdom and vision away from the field this offseason, to see that the rewards didn't justify the risks he was taking in playing the role of Easy Rider in Pittsburgh.

As it turns out, in defending both his ownership of his beloved motorcycle and his refusal to don a helmet when he rode it, the Steelers' franchise quarterback, for once, was acting his age. And like so many of us in youth, Roethlisberger now has acquired a few scars to remind him of lessons learned.

Let's face it: Monday morning's news flash out of Pittsburgh could have been far darker and more costly than it was. In sustaining only a broken jaw and nose after being thrown off his 2005 Suzuki, Roethlisberger was lucky. In a way, maybe he was just as charmed as he has been during the first two magical seasons of his pro football career.

But even Big Ben should know that nobody can count on luck full-time. At some point you have to play the percentages, and the numbers we're talking about have nothing to do with the ratio of Roethlisberger's completions or his gaudy win-loss record.

There's a reason the words motorcycle and accident seem to be almost synonymous in our heads. It's a dangerous hobby. Always has been, always will be. I never thought I'd say this, but Terry Bradshaw -- that raving, talk-first-and-think-later fount of wisdom that he is -- was right. Motorcycles and NFL playing careers just don't mix.

Can I hear a great big old amen, Kellen Winslow?