Franco and the Playground

 

We lost Franco Harris today.

The big back, number 32 of the Steelers, was 72.

Franco helped turn a moribund franchise from a joke into a machine. With Mean Joe Greene (1969), Terry Bradshaw (1970) and Harris (1972), the Pittsburgh Steelers had the nucleus of a dynasty. Jack Lambert, Jack Ham, Lynn Swann, John Stallworth, Mike Webster, L.C. Greenwood, Donnie Shell, and others would solidify that dynasty with four Super Bowl wins in six years.

Pittsburgh went from nothing to nirvana, especially with Harris running into the end zone with the "Immaculate Reception" to pick up their first playoff win in franchise history in 1972. The play capped a defensive battle as the Steelers led just 6-0 before Ken Stabler broke off a 30-yard run to give the Raiders a 7-6 lead late in the fourth quarter. That led to Harris sprinting from his assignment as a blocker on "60 circle option" to grab the rebounded ball and run to history.

The Steelers would win their first title two years later but the love affair between the team and the city had been solidified. Harris was to have his number retired on Saturday night as the team honored the 50th anniversary of the play.

How popular is Franco Harris in Pittsburgh? Glimpses of the "Immaculate Reception" are everywhere, including a statue of Franco catching the loose ball at Pittsburgh International Airport. You can also visit the site where the famous play was made -- where Three Rivers Stadium once stood -- and literally be in Franco's footprint.

Franco was an ambassador and always came back to the city to wave the Terrible Towel in support of "the Stillers."

With Franco's passing, I was transported to youth as we always do when our heroes and those we admired die. We emulated those players on the field.

We tried to pitch with the motion of Juan Marichal or Tom Seaver or Luis Tiant. We used the batting stance of Willie Stargell or Ken Griffey Jr (or Bobby Murcer, of course).

We'd shoot free throws underhand like Rick Barry.

And, on the football field, we'd try to run like Franco Harris (though the Cowboys fans had to be Tony Dorsett). We'd recreate the plays that fascinated us. We'd try to make the big catches, dancing for touchdowns like Billy "White Shoes" Johnson or the Fun Bunch of the (sorry) Washington Redskins. Or the "sack dance" of Mark Gastineau.

I'm transported back to my front yard on Longview Drive. The Viggiano's backyard on Agor Lane. The football field at Mahopac High School. The front lawn of Austin Road Elementary School. Heck, myriad streets became pseudo-football fields (preferably no tackling there).

It didn't matter. We'd play any game on any surface. Throw a football from the dock on Lake MacGregor so we could make diving catches into the water? Bring it on!

We didn't worry about the money the players made. We generally didn't worry about anything but the game. We talked crap about each other's teams, especially the Cowboys. 

We were all Yankees fans so there was nothing to talk about there. Just play ball.

Sure, it was a simpler time and I realize I'm lingering in "back in my day" territory and so it goes. These are happy memories that helped mold me. Even the bad memories served their purpose (with differing results).

Sadly, our heroes are leaving us. The people that we watched every Sunday or on Monday Night Football. Franco Harris bursting up the gut in Super Bowl XIII to (hopefully) put the game out of reach. The Steelers still won but there was a need to bite fingernails.

Oh, Franco had his critics. Jim Brown (who I still think is the NFL GOAT) threatened to come out of retirement in 1984 because Harris was threatening his yardage record and Brown didn't like Franco's running style. Franco didn't avoid contact but if there was a chance to get out of bounds, he did. 

I tend to think the NFL prefers Franco's style, given what we've learned about CTE, but that's just me.

But to us -- the members of Steelers Nation, who smiled at the joy of Franco's Italian Army -- Franco was our guy. He was our big running back, along with the talent of Rocky Belier (Vietnam Vet, if you don't know) out of the backfield.

Yes. Franco was adopted by the Italians of Pittsburgh with the creation of "Franco's Italian Army." Another "Frank" sipped a beverage with him once.

Harris and Sinatra, wearing a "Franco's Italian Army" helmet

Glory years. That's what comes to mind. 

It's not living in the past.

It's just remembering to mute the sadness at the breaking news of the passing of Franco Harris.

The MVP of Super Bowl IX.

Forever "Immaculate."