Immaculate

 

I wasn't going to write about it. We can do this in two years for the 50th anniversary, right?

I thought perhaps I'd write about holiday music, which I have this love-hate thing with. I generally don't like it (mostly because of how over-the-top it's become) but I cave when the spirit moves me closer to Christmas Day.

Part of "Doubleheader" today was dedicated to Christmas tunes, though I didn't feel it really generated much conversation. That's OK. I still enjoyed it.

Still, we can table that, because "The Immaculate Reception" did indeed happen on Dec 23, 1972, and I'm here to talk about it after all.

The Steelers, long the bottom-dwellers of the NFL, had won the AFC's Central Division with an 11-3 record. The Oakland Raiders finished 10-3-1 and traveled to Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium for a 1:00 p.m. start on that Saturday.

Curt Gowdy and Al DeRogatis called the action on NBC. The NFL still had archaic blackout rules that meant that the game couldn't be shown within 75 miles of Three Rivers Stadium, even if sold out. As dumb as the sports TV rules are now, they were even more ridiculous then.

Over 50,000 jammed the two-year-old stadium. Pittsburgh -- still a tough, hard-working town -- loved football but had only seen success with the Pirates, who had just won a World Series over Baltimore in 1971. Any football success occurred with the University of Pittsburgh.

The Steelers, up until then, were a laughing stock. But things were changing under fourth-year head coach Chuck Noll, who drafted "Mean" Joe Greene from North Texas, followed by a country quarterback from Louisiana named Terry Bradshaw.

Pittsburgh picked 13th in the first round of the 1972 draft and snagged running back Franco Harris from Penn State. Franco ran for 2,002 yards in his time with the Nittany Lions, mostly as a blocking back.

He'd become the featured back for Noll, amassing 1,055 yards and 10 touchdowns to win Rookie of the Year honors. He became a bit of a sensation around Pittsburgh, with fans creating "Franco's Italian Army," who eventually drafted Frank Sinatra into their ranks.

Oakland, coached by John Madden, was a hard-nosed, hard-living team. A fierce rivalry was born between these two who played a more physical style.

Playing in 42-degree weather with a wind at six miles per hour, the two teams lived up to the style of play with a scoreless first half. Steelers' kicker Roy Gerela finally broke the deadlock with an 18-yard field goal in the third quarter and a 29-yarder in the fourth.

The Immaculate Reception is the play that this game is known for, but it was nearly Oakland quarterback Ken Stabler who stole the show. Stabler, who replaced starter Daryle Lamonica, peeled off a 30-yard touchdown run that shocked the crowd. Following George Blanda's extra point, the Raiders led 7-6 with 1:17 to play.

Stabler, instead, became the impetus for the legendary play and is somewhat of a footnote for the eventual Hall of Famer.

Bradshaw and the Pittsburgh offense were down to their last hope. It was fourth-and-10 at their own 40. Twenty-two seconds remained. Bradshaw called a play -- 66 circle option. They needed something. Time wasn't on their side and they'd have to go a long way to get in field goal range for Gerela.

The details are well-known. Bradshaw scrambled to avoid a sack and unleashed a wicked pass towards John "Frenchy" Fuqua, who collided with Oakland safety Jack Tatum. However it happened -- hitting Fuqua first (which was illegal under the rules of the day) or hitting Tatum first -- the ball ricocheted just high enough and long enough for Harris to swoop in and catch it before lumbering the rest of the way into the end zone.

Three Rivers Stadium erupted. There have been myriad theories over the years that officials checked a replay (unusual at the time) or asked for security to get them out of the stadium if they said the play was not a touchdown. Whatever the case, the stripes let the play stand, Gerela booted an extra point, and Pittsburgh won, 13-7.

Forty-eight years have come and gone and we're still talking about it. Eventual Steelers broadcaster Myron Cope (creator of the Terrible Towel) said he saw conclusive footage from a local TV station that showed it was indeed Tatum who touched the ball first, thus making the touchdown count. However, that footage no longer exists.

Others believe the ball hit the turf before Harris caught it.

As Jimmy Stewart said in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."

I think that's the magic of it all. We'll never have a conclusive answer. Peyton Manning, in his wonderful Peyton's Places show, brought many of the key players together to discuss it and try to recreate it. Manning seemed convinced by the end that the play was legit, for what it's worth.

Art McNally, who it's said that referee Fred Swearingen called after the play, causing the delay before the extra point, has said numerous times that the officials got it right.

The Raiders still think they were robbed. Madden still complains about it and was no fan of anything related to the Steelers. Ironically, the last broadcast of his career was Pittsburgh beating Arizona in Super Bowl XLIII.

The argument is part of the joy.

Fairy tails often die though. The next week, Miami came to Pittsburgh and won 21-17, continuing their march towards perfection, which they'd achieve against Washington in Super Bowl VII. The Steelers were on the right path but wouldn't win their first ring for beloved owner Art Rooney until Super Bowl IX, when Harris won MBP honors.

Myron Cope gets an assist in all of this, for it was he who received a call from a local woman who told him to call the play "The Immaculate Reception." Cope used it that night on his sports report and the legend grew.

A legend that is considered -- by many, if not most -- the greatest play in NFL history.

Print the legend. Especially because the legend appears to be true.