Retirement and Reality

 

Pittsburgh Steelers radio history display at the
Hall of Honor Museum, July 2023

Bill Hilgrove announced his retirement this morning.

Unless you're a Pittsburgh Steelers fan, a University of Pittsburgh fan, or, in general, a Pittsburgher, you might not know who that is.

Bill has been a staple in Pittsburgh for over 50 years, calling a variety of sports for Pitt and, eventually, doing Steelers for 30 years. He was also the sports director at WTAE-TV at one point.

He has done a schedule that would make me jealous but, mostly, I admire it.

Sometimes he's done Pitt basketball, football, and the Steelers all in the same weekend. Beyond that, he rarely missed covering anything. He made it work.

Yes. I very much admire that. It's right up my alley.

Personally, he has kept me company on many game days when I couldn't get the Steelers on TV and, actually, sometimes even when they were.

Before the satellite and internet radio days, I remember working the radio dial to pick up a far-off Steelers radio affiliate, which was normally WWVA 1170 AM out of Wheeling, WV. Of course, it needed to be a night game to do that to have the proper atmospheric conditions.

Then, eventually, along came SiriusXM and I would listen to Bill call the action. Of course, the inimitable Myron Cope was alongside with his "Hmm hahs," "yoi's," and so on. Former Steelers Tunch Ilkin and, eventually, current partner Craig Wolfley joined Hillgove. The outstanding reporter Missi Matthews and former Steeler Max Starks rounded out the on-air squad.

Now, they'll need a new play-by-play announcer.

NFL radio crews can be quite biased and the Steelers aren't immune to that. Most of the time, it was Hillgrove who kept things close to the middle, letting his excitement come out on big plays. That's when you knew who paid his check.

But listening to the highlights of Bill calling iconic Steelers moments brought me chills. He was on for the run to Super Bowl XXX, Troy Polamalu's AFC Championship-clinching interception, the James Harrison return in Super Bowl XLIII, and the Santonio Holmes sideline catch to win that game.

As I tweeted this morning, it was through his broadcasts that I picked up a term that I've used and have given him credit for it.

The term is "habeas grabus," and I use it in relation to penalties or even any fracas. In reality, it's for holding calls but I have a little fun with it.

Chris Erway always noted that one, along with my use of stanza for quarter and spinorama for, well, spinning plays.

But habeas grabus came from Hillgove and Cope.

The Steelers Broadcast Booth in the Hall of Honor Museum

When I posted about Hillgrove's stepping down from the Steelers' booth, I joked about keeping the seat warm.

Would I love to be the Steelers' radio broadcaster? Um...hello?!

But, realistically, there's a better chance of the Art Rooney statue outside Acrisure Stadium coming to life and singing the Steelers' fight song while recreating the Immaculate Reception.

Still, that's the very thing about this business or any business for that matter. I think I must always "dare to dream" but also live in reality.

It's one thing to dream of an opportunity opening up or someone reaching out with an offer because they like your work.

It's another thing to keep up a Pollyanna-ish fable of how I'm going to make the big leagues!

I have no illusions.

I like to daydream.

But when your work has achieved a level of respect wherever you are, that matters. And it matters a lot to me.

Sure, there's every solid reason that I can offer about why I'd be a great Steelers radio broadcaster. But you need to find the right way to bust open that door to have that conversation. Conversely, there are plenty of others thinking the same thing today and they are preparing their audio and résumé.

I'm fortunate and realistic about what I have.

Right now, I'm preparing to call the FCIAC basketball championship for the 15th time -- both boys and girls. That matters to someone.

Trumbull and Staples await at 7 p.m. at the Snake Shack in Wilton.

A Splendid Time is Guaranteed For All

 

Let me take you down...

My first job in radio was as a DJ, playing Whitney Houston at midnight to six in the morning on Majic 105.

While I deviated and played a few things that I liked, it was never really my taste in music. Adult contemporary could be rather bland. I'm all for "Yacht Rock" but that time of night could be brutal.

I've worked almost entirely in sports since. Obviously, I've done a lot of news and some other stuff but sports has been the vast majority. Of course, I've had the pleasure of hosting the Greenwich Town Party on WGCH for several years now.

Once in a rare while I'd get to dabble in music on the radio but I often thought about doing a radio show.

Now, it's happening.

Roughly a year in discussion, I'm thrilled to say I'm starting a Beatles radio show this Sunday morning at nine on WGCH.

The working title, which Sean likes, is "Meet the Beatles" and it will be a one-hour, er, magical mystery tour to examine the songs of the Fab Four and the world around them.

"Across the Universe" was in fact one of the many titles I bounced around as this will be a show about The Beatles' music but also their solo careers and the music of their influences and those they influenced. With that, there is much to examine, and I love that feeling. In other words, it's The Beatles universe.

Like "Doubleheader" I hope the show can be interactive and I do hope to welcome some guests. At the very least, I have friends who are Beatles fans and I know that can be a jumping-off point. Perhaps we can get other guests as well.

At first, I just want to find a rhythm so the first show will stick to the basics. It will be an introduction. 

But, as you can imagine, there will be a lot of ways this show can go.

I realize there are so many shows about the most famous band ever and, as with anything else, I'll have to find my way.

My first love in broadcasting will always be sports. Always. But I'm thrilled to do a music show and a show about a band that has meant so much to me.

Join me beginning this Sunday on WGCH (no Facebook live due to copyright issues) at 9 a.m. We'll figure out an archive if that is possible.

I'll be some days in preparation.

That should make some happy.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

*****

(Photo: Paramount Plus)

The Steelers just lost to the Bills in the AFC Wild Card round. They got behind 21-0 and while they made it a game, the better team won. I congratulate the Bills and wish them well. They'll be tough through these playoffs.

See how easy that was? There were no cutesie names to put Buffalo down or 35 social media posts to mock or berate.

I think I posted once during the game and I said, "Welp."

Because that said it all.

Being a fan isn't often an easy thing because knowing how to win gracefully is every bit as tough as losing with dignity.

I hate to lose. Oh, I hate it.

But I thrive on trying to hold my head high. To do it any other way just makes sports fans look bad.

The team I root for got waxed but it also ended one of the most memorable seasons for me.

We got to Pittsburgh back in July, as training camp was rolling along. We visited Acrisute Stadium, checking out the Steelers' Hall of Honor.

We returned in early November and I went to my first game in almost 20 years. I also got to go with people that mean so much to me.

And I went because Sean wanted us to go. Now it could become an annual thing. We've already talked about next year.

But I feel no harm in losing to the Bills. I respect them and their fan base and I like Josh Allen. 

The reaction to the Cowboys losing last night reminded me of what it's like to be a Yankees fan.

And for the Green Bay Packers, all they need is Love (I'll see myself out now).

To that end, I'm ready for baseball.

Can't We Just Have Peace?

 

Ocala is roughly an hour north on I-75 (Mar 2023)

For the most part, today was a quiet one.

Sean and I went to Wegmans to shop for Christmas Eve, which has become a night of food and movies.

For us, that means lots of appetizers and so on.

While many were in pure chaos, the two of us strolled along quietly, with a plan in place and willing to adjust as needed. Oh sure, we were impatient with those who couldn't handle the simple task of walking, but we had a backup plan if things didn't go our way.

Alas, all went well and that backup plan -- get to the store early tomorrow morning -- turned out to not be necessary.

We're fine now and will enjoy a quiet Christmas Eve.

We came home and I took to the task of watching football. Interstate 95 crept along out back. Astounding.

Anyway, thank you, Pittsburgh Steelers, for the gift of a proper thumping of the Cincinnati Bengals. TJ Watt is my spirit animal or something like that.

Don't ask.

But today is also the 51st anniversary of The Immaculate Reception and so, somewhere, I hope Franco Harris is smiling.

The play was all legal and legit and I don't care what Raiders fans tell you.

In my wild world, it's astounding to say I know a participant in that game, as Terry Hanratty was the backup to Terry Bradshaw on that day in Pittsburgh. It's another "pinch myself" type of thing. Incidentally, Terry's podcast, "Hanratty's Huddle" is being produced every week and now has a Facebook page. Please like, support, and spread the word!

I caught up on other items at hand today, like filling in spaces where possible on the broadcast schedule for January and February. It's looking like I'll be sufficiently busy but, to be honest, I always want more.

And there's the very frustrating WGCH factor for me.

It's frustrating because, once again, I pushed to get a schedule of games on the air and, so far, none of it has come to be. I even tried to encourage some sales and the emails haven't gone unanswered.

I realize others broadcast hockey but I think we should be back on Greenwich games (girls and boys) as well as basketball. Maybe even wrestling.

So far, nothing. Sure, I can put these on Robcasting (and probably will do a few) but there's likely no money in that for me. That, to be quite clear, is a downside.

These teams deserve better and I think I know what I'm worth.

All I can say is "check your local listings" for the games and, of course, everything gets archived both on Mixlr and Archive.org.

*****

Before we turn serious, I'm here to ask the "hive mind" for help. (I've never used that term before but, why not?)

I've been asked to do some research about streaming games but, in this case, it's for video.

I've done it, of course, but as "talent." I was a part of the building of the HAN Network but I wasn't involved in buying the equipment in that case. I was more of a sounding board in that case.

Incidentally, I'd love to know where that HAN Network equipment is, along with how to get the games that were put behind a paywall back out so that I could download them.

So I've never really had to build a video service from scratch. I'm looking for advice and reasonable costs. I'm trying to gather some information.

If there's a reason to explain further here, I will. For now, forgive my vagueness.

*****

I saw we had another barbaric shooting this evening. This time, it was in Ocala, FL. 

It hits a little closer when it's somewhere you're familiar with.

In this case, the shooting happened at the Paddock Mall, which opened in 1980.

To be clear, I've never been inside the Paddock Mall. I've eaten meals in Orlando and stayed in at least one hotel (likely more) but that's as much as I know of the city.

I drove by the Paddock Mall on State Route 200 in May, 1989, on my way home from my grandfather's funeral.

Ocala was always one of our places of note on the drive from Mahopac to the Tampa Bay area. We normally used State Route 40 to take us from Interstate 75 to US 301 but, in this case, I was driving and chose Route 200. Nobody in the car knew the difference.

But I'm wildly digressing.

Why is it that we can't go to the mall and simply do our shopping and get out?

What I've read indicated that one person is dead and another wounded.

On Dec. 23.

There's enough sadness for many surrounding the holidays. Why more?

I know some will want to debate the Second Amendment and I get that. Believe me, I do. All I can do is simply look at this my way.

You've gone to Paddock Mall to shop at Belk while the kids go to Hollister. Honestly, you just want to get a few last-minute items and snack on some Auntie Anne's pretzels. 

Instead, a person is dead and you're running for your life.

It's sick.

And, again, it happens too much.

However we want to put this, the fact is the gun is in the wrong hands. Can we at least agree on that?

Nobody should be living in fear of just going to the mall.

Not on Dec 23 or at any other time of the year.

Lives are shattered tonight.

So, again, we asked the unanswered question.

Why?

Blame Canada

 

Former Steelers Offensive Coordinator Matt Canada

I've never been one to want to see people lose their jobs.

Even as a manager, I've given people multiple chances before terminating. Maybe that's a failure of mine but I'm not quick to give up on people.

But I'll admit I wasn't heartbroken to see Matt Canada let go as offensive coordinator of the Pittsburgh Steelers today.

If anything, I felt relief.

The fear in such moves has always been about "what's next?"

I hear about firing Yankees manager Aaron Boone all the time. The same with Brian Cashman.

And, yet, what happens after they're let go? Who replaces them? Who makes things better?

Casey Stengel isn't walking into Yankee Stadium anytime soon.

I've always felt like this. Eradicating one problem doesn't mean the replacement won't be worse. I've seen it happen too many times.

The grass isn't always greener.

The Steelers' consistency in terms of their head coaches has always been a source of comfort for fans. 

Bill Austin was the Steelers coach when I was born. He didn't exactly hold up the standard of Vince Lombardi. Since then, there have been three coaches: Chuck Noll (1969-1991), Bill Cowher (1992-2006), and Mike Tomlin (2007-present).

There have also been six Lombardi trophies since 1969.

Of course, there are those who have felt each one of those coaches had seen their time come and go. Tomlin is the latest to be on the fringe of the hot seat, but those are often the fans who are never happy.

Tomlin, like many, would basically have a job within days of leaving.

This all being said, Matt Canada needed to go. Simply put the culture of Steelers football was deteriorating by the day.

Teams simply can't fire a coach due to the whim of fans. It's a bad precedent to set.

Yet, this was next-level bad.

The Fire Canada movement had been in full form since last season when most thought he wouldn't return.

Then he was back for 2023 and I think most fans knew it was going to get worse.

But I have to imagine that Mike Tomlin and the Steelers front office felt they could make it work. Also, they probably didn't have a better option.

Maybe now they do (in the interim, they'll utilize other coaches in the organization to run the offense).

Or, more likely, they simply realized the situation became untenable, especially after a dangerously lifeless performance against their hated rivals from Cleveland.

They were, in short, losing the locker room, and, in sports, the players rule the day.

So Canada had to go.

The Pittsburgh Steelers were 5-3 going into Sunday in a division that is very close. Their 13-10 loss to the Browns was pretty bad.

More than anything, it was glaring at their deficiencies on offense, with a second-year quarterback who needs to make or break.

Maybe there is some grand plan. Maybe they'll patch it together to get through the rest of the 2023 season.

Of course, the Steelers aren't winning the Super Bowl this year but that doesn't mean they can't try.

Count this as a rare time when a coach needed to be terminated.

It was a mercy firing for all involved.

*****

In my continued pursuit of sleep, I put curtains up in my room today.

Honestly, window dressings weren't a priority here but getting some peace at night is.

You see, The Cat likes to chase shadows at night. Given we live on a fairly main street, lights move as cars drive by.

Those lights -- the shadows -- often appear in a few places. Among them are next to my bed and above my desk.

To that end, I've piled pillows on the desk to keep Rascal from doing his thing while I tried to sleep.

Of course, he calms down during the middle of the night because traffic is quiet, so nobody is passing by.

So combine that with his being hungry, and the fun begins early in the morning.

Thus I'm giving these curtains a try. I had them in Mahopac, in part, to help keep my bedroom there warm.

Now they'll hopefully keep our room dark.

And my nights peaceful.

So I've added a loveseat and I'm breaking out my inner interior designer.

What's next?

Now and Then

 

The view from our seats before the game

It took 19 years and a couple of words to make it happen.

"We need to come back to a game," Sean told me in July.

After initial hesitation, our two-day, one-night trip to Pittsburgh became a reality.

We're back home now, after spending some 14-plus hours in my cousin's truck.

After countless jokes at Kris's friend, Danny, who's probably our friend now too.

After myriad one-liners from the stealthy Sean.

And after good meals, laughs, and one good football game.

I was up at 4 a.m. Thursday morning. No, that was not the game plan but I also have a cat (as if you didn't know).

We were out the door shortly before six and at Kris's house by seven.

By the way, the thermometer showed 33 degrees when I got out of bed.

I smiled at that. You see, the Pittsburgh Steelers were founded in ... yup ... 1933.

We were on the road at 7:11 a.m. and were in Scranton, PA before nine.

Oh, and in a Waffle House shortly after.

From there, it was a drive of interstates (81, 80, 99) and four-lane roads with traffic lights (U.S. 22) and then that combined with U.S. 30 and Interstate 376 as we entered the Steel City.

Finally, we checked into our hotel, which looked like it had been converted from a Ramada Inn of another generation. No matter, it was clean and comfortable.

Heading back into the Burgh, we went straight to Primanti Bros., the downtown bar and sandwich shop that has taken on a life of its own. It also now has multiple locations.

Kris said the pastrami was very good. Danny seemed pleased with his Pittsburger. Sean loved his Pittsburger and, once again, my Ragin Cajun chicken sandwich was fantastic. OK, service was slow but it didn't deter us.

That's the thing. I had a plan set in my mind. Up, leave Greenwich, head to Kris's, maybe hit Waffle House, check out the outlet center across the street from the hotel with a Steelers Pro Shop, then Primanti's, the park at Station Square, and go to the game.

The thing is it all worked. Like, so easily. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, yeah, after Primanti's, we walked around the Strip District for a few minutes. It was much quieter than it was in July because 1) it was a Thursday night and 2) it was getting chilly. Sadly, even though I was up to treat myself to something in the Strip, I just couldn't find that sweatshirt, jacket, jersey, or anything else. So it goes and I'm proud that I didn't waste money just because.

We drove to Station Square next, where we found parking with ease at a shockingly reasonable cost. Among the many things that were so wonderful about this experience was the way everyone took care of each other. There were no discussions of "who owed what." We just made it work and it appeared any debts got paid with virtually no discussion.

We parked and headed to our next mode of transportation: the Gateway Clipper fleet of boats. Remembering my 2004 game with the Warzoha's of Greenwich, I took copious notes as to how they did Steelers games. Taking a boat out of Station Square that docked at Acrisure Stadium a few minutes later was inspired.

That still works in 2023.

This also pleased Sean, who didn't know I had this trick up my sleeve until I mentioned it in passing.

I was so thrilled -- so, so thrilled -- to be among fellow Steelers fans. Haven't spent my entire life in the New York tri-state area, one deals with Giants and Jets fans and, sadly, Patriots fans. Then there are other fanbases, including the Steelers.

Last night, it was a sea of black and gold, with an occasional outlier.

Despite all plans having worked so far, there was still one last thing: the tickets. I wouldn't truly relax until we were inside the stadium.

Minutes after stepping off the boat, the ticker reading beeped with a positive welcome.

We were in.

This is literally what it's all about

Our seats were high above the end zone and, frankly, they were great. The game unfolded right in front of us and we were to settle in among so many grumpy (and eventually inebriated) fans who were there to bask in their collective religion on the gridiron below.

Oh, I had a beverage as well, as Danny and I each bought a round of IC Light but neither one of us felt any ill effects.

I should also mention that all survived the early November chill, using multiple layers. It was cold, sure, but we've experienced much worse.

Kenny Pickett is rolling out

The game was outstanding. It was low-scoring, tense, penalty-filled. The Steelers looked sharp early but Tennessee took a 13-10 lead at halftime and 16-13 after three quarters.

And I knew what was coming. I kept warning Sean.

"Renegade is coming," I said. "It feels like a good time for it."

"You keep saying that," he said.

But I knew. It was early in the fourth quarter and the Pittsburgh defense was back on the field.

"Watch the screen," I said, looking at the scoreboard. "Watch. It's going to fade out."

The crowd of 65,969 knew it too.

But, at first, just a static shot of the field stayed on the screen.

And then ... fade to black.

It was time for "Renegade," the song by Styx that has become a staple of Steelers football for over 20 years.

Oh Mama, I'm in fear for my life

From the long arm of the law

Lawman has put an end to my running

And I'm so far from my home

The words rang out with a heartbeat as a sea of yellow towels began to dance in unison. It was getting louder.

Oh Mama, I can hear you a-cryin'

You're so scared and all alone

Hangman is comin' down from the gallows

And I don't have very long 

YEAH!

The music continued and the throng began waving their Terrible Towels. While my Towel was at my side, and Sean had one of his own (a gift from his dad), neither one of us waved them because we both wanted to bask in the spectacle. The roar was intense. Surely the defense would make a big play.

Here we go, Steelers, here we go!

Then Will Levis, who played his high school ball at Xavier of Middletown, CT, fired a 21-yard pass.

"Renegade," my fanny.

I sat down, in Section 523, Row T, Seat 21, and cast my gaze at the field, with a certain hopelessness. It was the same feeling I had at my first World Series game, back in 1998, as the Yankees were down 5-2 to the San Diego Padres. The Bombers then scored seven runs to win.

In this case, as I was thinking we should start walking back towards the entrance to get the boat back to the parking lot, Kenny Pickett and the Steelers marched 92 yards over 11 plays.

The drive was keyed by a Pickett to Diontae Johnson 32-yard reception on third-and-six at the Steelers' 45.

Now, they were in field goal range. But, nah, go get this done.

Still, the crowd (me) grumbled about penalties and ineffective play-calling.

Then Pickett shut us all up, hitting Johnson for a three-yard touchdown. It was 20-16 Steelers. 

We moved to the other side of the stadium, placing ourselves in a position to dash to the boat.

It wasn't easy, and much credit goes to Levis for making things tense, but the Steelers got a later interception to ice the game.

In the meantime, a woman caught my eye and asked me for a favor. She asked me to go to section 145 and find her husband as well as her obviously drunk and sick friend's husband.

I laughed and walked away. Sure, I'll just yell out their names and they'll come a-running.

I rolled my eyes, looked back at her, and said I couldn't find them. I mean, what?

She walked by me.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered. 

I laughed harder.

Steelers Nation fills in on the boat following the win

We caught the boat back to the car and, despite an obnoxiously lengthy delay at a traffic light, were back at the hotel within a half-hour of returning to the car.

Sean and I turned our hotel light out after 1 a.m.

Hours later, I was on the phone with Tony Savino from the lobby of the hotel to do my Friday morning sports chat.

Then we pulled ourselves together and had breakfast (Waffle House, of course).

Then we did a quick local shopping run before going back into Pittsburgh to take a ride up the Duquesne Incline.

Then, sadly, we began the grinding drive home.

Lori, Kris's wife, was waiting when we walked in with pizza.

Finally, Sean and I returned to Greenwich. Sean has work to do at WGCH tomorrow morning and I have two football games to call.

But let this be the first of many trips like this.

I can't possibly thank Sean, Kris, and Danny enough. Each one became deeper Steelers fans this week as a result of this. None are likely as "die-hard" as I am but each had their level of rooting interest. Sean made it quite clear that he was annoyed when the Steelers were losing and how much seeing them win in person was important. 

I was resigned to understanding that it's sports: sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. I have zero control.

But I sit here simply overwhelmed with gratitude for this experience.

This is where I was -- in a car on I-80 West in Pennsylvania -- when I put an AirPod in my ear to listen to the last song by The Beatles for the first time. Thus, the name of this post.

And I love the song. I don't care how many ways critics want to twist it. I don't care how you compare it to "Free as a Bird" or any other song for that matter. I love it.

I know it's true

It's all because of you

And if I make it through

It's all because of you

Thank you, lads.

Including the three that led me back to Pittsburgh. 

Or, should I say, that I was allowed to guide to Pittsburgh.

I truly hope this picture reflects the joy that this trip produced

I'm forever indebted to each of them. Each one isn't going to show their emotions, and I did a decent job of hiding mine. But through the laughs, cheers, and Danny's thanking me, I got it.

What an experience. 

Truly.

Thank yinz, Steelers Nation. 

You outdid yourselves.

We'll do it again soon.

Humbly, I now go to bed.

Exhausted and exhilarated.

With music -- sweet sounds -- ringing in my ears.

A Pittsburgh Party

 

This is going to be a long day and I'm ready.

It starts the usual way: wash, rinse, repeat.

There will be breakfast.

And miles. Lots of miles.

Sean and I are first heading to Ulster County to meet up with Kris and Danny. Kris has volunteered to drive so I'm happy to cut a little of the chaos off for them. Then we'll leave my car there.

Then? Miles. Minutes.

Out through Middletown and Port Jervis and into Pennsylvania. I-84 will carry us towards Scranton, where "The Office" theme song will tingle in my ears.

Oh, and if I haven't mentioned it, the Scranton area has two -- TWO -- little establishments called Waffle House.

But I digress.

Heading down I-81 Scranton will turn to Moosic and onto Wilkes-Barre.

Then we'll connect with I-80.

Then the wilderness.

Much like other trips in 2023, I don't know where we'll stop or what we'll find. We won't -- at least based on my research -- have Wawa to rely on. We'll need to stop for fuel and food somewhere for sure.

Eventually, we'll likely hook up with I-99, much despised in the road enthusiast world for being out of the numbering scheme for such roads and for being a bit of a red tape mess due to one person's ego.

But, it exists and will get us where we need to go.

The roads and numbers will continue on until we reach Pittsburgh, PA, USA.

Home of the six-time Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers.

Yes, I'm packed. Of course, I am. Is Sean? I don't worry about him. I trust him to be ready. He'll have his nouse-cancelling headphones and whatever device he wants to bring. He handles car trips like a pro. 

And me? I'll be a traveler! I mean, I won't be driving for once. But, as I've been told, I'm the tour guide.

Yes, I've done my homework. We know where the hotel is. We know where we probably want to eat. We have a decent idea of what we want to do. I have a clue on where I want to park and how I want to get to Acrisure Stadium.

From there, are you ready for some football?

Quarterback Kenny Pickett says he's playing. Whether he will or not is still a question in my mind. The Tennessee Titans are starting Will Levis at QB. Levis played high school ball at Xavier.

You know, Xavier in Middletown, CT. A team that Greenwich has played a few times over the years.

So we have storylines and lots more to get excited about.

Road trip.

Food.

Family.

Fun.

Football.

Steelers football!

If you have Amazon Prime, look for us. I'll no doubt be in a Terry Bradshaw black number 12 football jersey.

We'll be there.

One last thing: the Texas Rangers won their first World Series last night. On that note, we say farewell to our beloved National Pastime for 2023. I miss it already but wait patiently for that first sound of ball hitting glove in February.

Trying To Say The Right Thing

It's National Cat Day so he gets the honor of this picture.
Otherwise, he has nothing to do with this post

 

Life, as we know, can be cruel.

A family friend's husband passed away this week as cancer reared its ugly head again. I feel for Debbie, whom I've known since birth. I didn't know her husband Carmine well but he seemed like a good man and was lost far too soon.

Thanks to Debbie's sister, Renee, for keeping us in the loop on this sad news. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get to Mahopac for the services.

Funny thing about that, and I'll always believe it. I'll always feel -- strongly -- that having loved ones before and/or after someone passes is more important than being around for the ceremony of the wake and funeral.

In a perfect world, we get to everything but, sometimes, life just doesn't allow us to be in that place. So I'd rather be a phone call or message away.

There were those who didn't show when Mom died in 2020 and, while it would have been a lovely gesture, their support after everything was over spoke more. It always will.

But that's a personal thing and a matter of opinion.

The circle of life reared its twisted mind with the announcement on social media of a new baby on the way to the brood as my niece is pregnant. We look forward to the addition to the family next year and only hope that the child doesn't follow her father's choice of sports teams.

I kid.

Sort of.

I've done well with Sean so I'll take my victory there. He and I are preparing for Pittsburgh on Thursday, despite the Steelers' putrid performance today against Jacksonville. Two key Steelers -- quarterback Kenny Pickett and free safety Minkah Fitzpatrick -- left today's home game with injuries. 

Obviously, when one is going to travel close to seven hours to see a football game, one hopes for certain players to be active. Yet one has no say in that matter so, while I was excited to see Pickett play in person, we'll see what impact his rib injury has.

These factors can't ruin the trip. The journey and the experience will have to rule.

Oh, and I haven't packed yet, though I have a fair idea of what I'm going to wear Thursday night, with temperatures dipping towards the 30s at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers that form the Ohio River.

You know. Three Rivers.

Layers will be needed. Lots.

But enough about that. My mind just keeps going back to the complexities of the circle of life and family. 

I hurt for my friends -- the ones I've told you about in the post but there are others who are dealing with the test of a life and such pain that they are almost numb at this point. It's their story to tell and I'm here for their support.

It's just horrible and will always test faith. I can't fathom some higher power allowing that kind of pain.

But from our perspective -- that of a supporter -- being there is really all we can do. We can't change things. We can't make anything go away. We're the shoulder to lean on and it can be such a helpless feeling.

Especially from a distance yet all we can do is our best.

Selfishly, I'll offer that it's frustrating and disheartening at times because you want to make the pain go away. But, on the other hand, see it as the honor of being their rock, if that's how they see you.

They've put their faith in you.

That matters.

You don't need to fix anything. You don't need to have all of the answers or any answers at all. You just need to listen.

Be patient.

Hug, if needed.

And once in a while, nudge them. Of course, do that gently because, even then, it might fail.

So here's the takeaway. Good or bad, I'm here. 

Always here.

A text away.

A call away.

With the very sad passing of Matthew Perry this weekend, I can only think of the line from the "Friends" theme song.

"I'll be there for you."

One More Roadtrip

 

This wonderful year of adventures has led me to see and do things I won't forget.

We've been to London and San Francisco. We've also been to Tampa, Buffalo, Providence, and myriad other cities large and small.

And states. From Massachusetts to close to Ohio and down through West Virginia to South Carolina. Then all up the East Coast. Plus Florida and California.

Yet there was one city that really seemed to make a large impact. I've always said how great it was but then Sean saw it for himself.

Pittsburgh, PA dazzled and Sean felt we should go back after having been to the Hall of Honor at Acrisure Stadium.

Sean loved all of it. He loved Primatni Bros. and the Pittsburgher sandwich. He loved the funicular known as the Duquesne Incline and the view from Mount Washington. He loved the explosive vistion coming into the city via the Fort Pitt Tunnel. 

"I think we need to come back for a Steelers game," he told me.

I didn't see how we could. I thought questions of time and money would win.

There are only eight home games and, if you don't know, NFL tickets are expensive. They're especially expensive when you're going to one of the most popular tickets in the sport.

Steelers fans love their team. It's a religion, much like Packers, Giants, and Chiefs fans, among others. But in Pittsburgh, it's truly part of their identity. Oh, they love the Pirates and the Penguins and the college teams and the high school teams.

But the Steelers? It's hard to explain. It's just different.

Much like "Renegade" by Styx, which has been the Steelers' anthem for over 20 years. It just sort of happened and, initially, the popularity couldn't quite be explained. But then you experience it, as I did 19 years ago at what was known as Heinz Field at the time. 

Then you get it.

That game -- against the Washington, ahem, Redskins -- was incredible. It had been years of rooting for a team that played roughly seven hours from my home. Being there felt like being among friends finally in a football sense.

Sean will soon get it. So will my cousin Kris. So will Kris's friend Danny.

The Pittsburgh Steelers -- proud owners of six Lombardi Trophies -- are hosting the Tennessee Titans on Thursday night, Nov 2.

We'll be there.

Chris Erway was probably the first to push me to do this, no matter how much I doubted it could happen. He encouraged me and it led me to look at each home game. That's when I found the Thursday night game. There were no conflicts to get in the way.

Then I looked at tickets. They're not cheap but, in an NFL sense, they're OK.

Sure, we'd have to get a room for a night because a day trip to Pittsburgh with a football game included just wasn't smart. But we could handle that.

Life is simply too short. My son -- Sean! -- wanted to do this. Maybe this was actually something we could pull off.

Around the same time I started thinking about it -- mid-September -- we also had a weekend planned in Washington, DC to go to a baseball game. Kris, Sean, Danny, and I were all set to go. However, a tropical storm wiped that trip out. I mentioned to Kris that we were thinking about a Steelers game and his reaction was immediate.

He was in.

Eventually, we added Danny to our party and, today, the pieces all came together. I bought the tickets and, while they're in the upper deck in the endzone at Acrisure Stadium, we're in the building.

That's always been our approach.

We booked a room, which became easier after I explained a Waffle House is on the same road as the hotel. Oh, and Sean needs some Steelers stuff to wear. No problem. A Steelers pro shop is in an outlet center near the hotel. Kris told me that today.

It helps to have fellow travelers who understand.

So, next Thursday, away we go.

Bring on the pierogis and Iron City (or IC Light). Bring on the Strip District and the Gateway Clipper Fleet. Bring on the Cathedral of Learning and Clemente Bridge. Bring on the ghosts and the memories of Franco, TB, Big Ben, Polamalu, the Steel Curtain, Chas. Noll and the Jaw. Swann and Stallworth and Hines.

And Heinz...er...Acrisure.

Yinz need to know we're going to see the Stillers in the Burgh, okel dokel?

Terrible Towels in hand.

Yoi.

Maybe double yoi.

Who knows? It might be the beginning of a new tradition and I'm all for that.

The Golden Domer and the Steeler

 

Joe Gilliam, some guy named Bradshaw, and Terry Hanratty

I'm often amazed at the people I've had the chance to interview and work with.

I've talked to stars who live ordinary yet amazing lives as well as celebrities who have also lived pretty amazing (and often ordinary) lives.

Naming names can often be unsavory and gets one accused of being a "name dropper." As an instructor of broadcasting (minus a high horse) I normally explain why I do name some names. It's done to make students understand that they can have these opportunities.

As a Pittsburgh Steelers fan who grew up not only watching the game but learning the history of the legendary franchise, I came to know the different personalities that made the "Stillers" an institution.

So when Dave Torromeo -- my great friend and fellow member of "The Clubhouse" radio show -- asked if I wanted to have breakfast with him and Terry Hanratty, I jumped.

Let's see: Hanratty, a two-time All-American at Notre Dame. Won a National Championship with the Fighting Irish in 1966. Drafted in the second round by the Steelers in 1969. Won two rings with Pittsburgh, including coming off the bench when Terry Bradshaw got injured in Super Bowl X against the Cowboys.

Also, his son Conor was a very talented lineman at New Canaan High School and I got to cover him on the air before he, too, went to Notre Dame.

So, yeah, I was thrilled to meet Terry Hanratty.

Hanratty (5) runs against Michigan State
in the "Game of the Century, Nov 19, 1966 (AP photo)

Terry remains heavily involved in the world of Notre Dame and the Steelers. He watches every Notre Dame football game and breaks down the activity of the Golden Domers.

So he became interested in starting a podcast.

Huh. I know a thing or two about podcasts.

Terry and Dave did a first edition earlier in the week that could be considered a practice run. The content was fantastic but Dave reached out and asked me to take a shot at recording one with Terry.

Technology does matter with podcasts. Sure, they can be done however one wishes regardless of quality and time but I think the better ones sound good. They're well-produced. They're polished.

As such, microphones and mixers and the right conditions are important.

On "Talent Talks" for Hunt Scanlon, I utilize Zoom and have recorded from my home, my kitchen (the day I moved in), and even my car. So long as I have the right equipment, it can all come together.

So, after some trial and error, Terry and I decided to meet at WGCH's offices today. Then, in one take, I got to be part of a podcast with a pretty remarkable person.

My role was that of the "glue" if you will. It's a role I'm very familiar with, where I keep it running and hold it together. Then I edit anything that needs polishing and add some theme music.

With (shockingly) minimal effort, I found some good music and had it completed minutes after Terry left.

It should be available on Spotify and elsewhere starting tomorrow.

A podcast can be such an open slate. We kept it pretty close to the expected topics but it can go a lot of ways with a lot of guests in the future. As for what we discussed, I hope you listen to find out. I will tell you that I let someone hear it and their review was "Really fun and engaging."

I love that. It's my exact goal. Make it relatable, understandable, and enjoyable.

And it's just the start.

For me, it's another iron in the fire.

It also reminds me that I get to do some pretty great stuff.

Keep an eye out for the podcast. Hopefully, there's much more to come!

Steeling My Heart

 

Emerging from the Fort Pitt Tunnel

Greetings from Fairmont.

West Virginia.

Yes, mountain mama.

It's a delightful burg we've landed in for the night. We have dinner and a room and we're settling in.

An early start will send us toward North Carolina in the morning.

But this isn't the burg I've come to talk about tonight.

Oh, no. A day that began in Buffalo, NY, with a glance into Ontario, drove by a Great Lake, and passed into Pennsylvania, and turned at Erie, where images of The Wonders and That Thing You Do! flashed by.

And then we were in Pittsburgh.

The Burgh.

While the Pirates were home today, our timing wasn't quite right to join them for their tilt with the cross-state Phillies. We were tucked into traffic for the game as we worked through the streets of Steel City, but it was steel that we were going to see.

Where the standard is the standard.

Off Art Rooney Ave, we walked into the Pittsburgh Steelers Hall of Honor Museum at Acrisure Stadium.

Incidentally, I brought us into town via the Fort Pitt Tunnel and I defy you to find a more breathtaking entrance to a city. I warned Sean and he though I was biased. Then he saw it and gasped. Yeah, dad knows a thing or two.

A kind woman helped us check in at Acrisure Stadium as we didn't have an appointment and were soon walked into a small theater for an introductory video.

The chills were automatic.    

Terry Bradshaw's display in the Hall of Honor

I was ready to twirl a Terrible Towel (if I had brought one). I'd run through a brick wall for Coach Bill Cowher. The Terrible Towels were, of course, available for sale in the Pro Shop.

The history was on full display. The humble beginnings with Arthur J. Rooney in 1933, through years of awful football before Chuck Noll was named coach in 1969.

Shockingly, I didn't realize that Sean didn't know what the Immaculate Reception was as we were driving to find parking. He soon got a full education, including Curt Gowdy's call of the NFL's top play in 1972.

He understood as we walked through the museum.

But we didn't linger. I couldn't do that to him and there were other things to do.

I did get to step into a broadcast booth where I could pick a famous Steelers play to call. The Immaculate Reception, Troy Polamalu's pick-six dash against the Ravens in the AFC Championship game, and two plays from Super Bowl XLIII (James Harrison's 100-yard pick-six and Santonio Holmes' game-winning catch) were among the choices.

I decided to be different, choosing Rocky Bleier's leaping touchdown against the Cowboys in Super Bowl XIII. Why? Well, because it's one of the best games I've ever watched, it was an important game when I was young, and because it featured Terry Bradshaw.

Sean sat next to me as I called it. Supposedly, the Steelers are supposed to email it to me but I haven't received it yet.

As for the Pro Shop, I walked out empty-handed. I hoped to find something somewhere else.

Besides, it was lunchtime, and we needed to hit one of the most famous of Pittsburgh's eateries. 

I've never been to Primanti Bros. until today.

I'd heard about it many times. You order a sandwich and, regardless of what you've ordered, it comes with tomato, french fries, and cole slaw on it. Those are the rules.

Sean got a "Pitts-burger" and I got a Rajun Cajun chicken sandwich.

Please note that I do not like cole slaw. But, when in Pittsburgh...

So I ate half of it with cole slaw and half without.

It was all great.

We walked the Strip district with the many shops, including quite a few dedicated to Steelers, Pirates, and Penguins merchandise. Alas, I bought nothing.

But, even with the Pirates playing on this warm Sunday, and the Penguins Stanley Cup success, do not be fooled.

This is a Steelers town.

It's also a University of Pittsburgh town, and we'd get there eventually, but first, we had a mountain to climb.

Or should I say, a funicular handled that for us?

We rode the famous Duquesne Incline to the top of Mt. Washington, where we took in the incredible view of Acrisure Stadium, PNC Park, and the Golden Triangle at the confluence of the Ohio, Allegheny, and Monongahela Rivers.

I battled my fear of heights for something I admit I'll never forget.

Thinking our day might be over, we had one more trick up our sleeves.

The morning began back in Buffalo with a visit to the site of the old Rockpile -- the remainder of War Memorial Stadium -- where the Buffalo Bills once played, along with myriad others. It was also the site of "Knights Field" in the movie The Natural. The stadium, in the middle of a neighborhood, once held 46,000 fans. 

Now it's a high school facility, much like Balboa Stadium in San Diego.

We also drove by Highmark Stadium, the current home of the Buffalo Bills (and they're getting a new stadium).

But, back in Pittsburgh, we drove out to Pitt to find the outfield wall of Forbes Field. Not only did Babe Ruth hit his last three home runs there but Bill Mazeroski broke hearts and became a Pittsburgh God with a Game 7 home run to win the 1960 World Series against the Yankees.

The outfield wall remains. So does a flagpole. Inside nearby Posvar Hall is home plate. Boldly, we walked right in, with Sean hoping to not bail me out of jail.

That would not be necessary.

All of this was extra special for me because this was the very site -- 122 years ago this week -- where Harold Arlin called the first broadcast in MLB history.

Hallowed ground to me for sure. I felt honored to stand in roughly the same area where Arlin called the Pirates and Phillies on Aug 5, 1921.

On that note, I was content to depart Steel City for West Virginia.

And here we are, in a room that we're hoping to will get cooler. Oh, and I destroyed a pair of shorts somehow.

The rigors of travel, I guess.

We're just happy to be off the road for today and we'll jump right back to it tomorrow.

We're in the birthplace of Mary Lou Retton, for what that's worth.

In the meantime, there's still a push to get me to Virginia for the Babe Ruth World Series.

Plus, writing this has kept me from the Giants/Ravens football game.

Oh, wait, I'm being told the Orioles lead the Yankees 7-0. In the second inning.

Sean thinks I should move to Pittsburgh today. In fact, he loved it there also.

We're not moving.

But it was a great time in Steel City with a plan to go back.

We drove away with no mementos. Honestly, who needs them?

We have memories of a great day.

On Great Sports Photos

 

I saw a tweet (or whatever we're calling it now) asking for the most iconic sports photo.

I saw all kinds of responses. Some were (attempts at being) funny while others were nonsensical.

The tweet's author chose the incredible shot taken by Neil Leifer of Sports Illustrated in Lewiston, ME on May 25, 1965.

There's Ali taunting the fallen Liston, though some believe Liston took a dive off a "phantom punch."

John Rooney took a black and white photo of the same moment, but it's the Leifer photo that so many of us remember, mostly since we knew it from Sports Illustrated.

It's an incredible photo. A great photo can say so much and this does that very thing. 

Ali was heading towards becoming an icon as an athlete and a human being. Liston, sadly, was dead by the beginning of 1971, passing under mysterious circumstances.

For me, there are two photos that stand out to me. The first one dates to Sep 20, 1964 at Pitt Stadium in Pittsburgh. The Steelers' John Baker knocked Giants QB Y.A. Tittle to the ground, leaving him bloodied. Adding insult to injury, Erich Barnes ran the result of the play -- an interception -- back 26 yards for a touchdown.

Tittle, blood running down his bald head, was beaten up. Morris Berman of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette snapped a photo.

To me, that is everything about the NFL up through 1964. It's a violent sport and, in this one image, you can see the great Tittle's career ending. He actually played the next week against Washington and would finish out the '64 season.

But he was finished. You can see it.

He retired after the 1964 season.

Yet, given all options, my top iconic photo shouldn't be hard to figure out. It's June 13, 1948 and the Yankees are hosting an old-timer event to honor the 25th anniversary of the 1923 championship squad. They were also going to retire Babe Ruth's number as well.

Ruth, as everyone knew, was not well. Only 53 on this day with dismal weather as the Yankees played the Cleveland Indians (and beat them 5-3), Ruth was ravaged by throat cancer. He had been honored with "Babe Ruth Day" around baseball in 1947, speaking to the crowd in a hoarse voice. He spoke of baseball being "the only real game in the world."

On this day, Ruth was happy to have a pinstripe uniform on with the number three on his back. He joked with his old teammates before taking the field.

Still, he needed a baseball bat to steady himself, the midnight blue Yankees cap in his hand.

Nat Fein, a photographer with the New York Herald-Tribune, knelt behind him as Ruth stood on the third base line. Fein felt that he wanted to see that number three and feature it in his photo while most of the other photographers worked along the first base line.

Old timers, dignitaries, part of the crowd of nearly 50,000, and the famous Yankee Stadium frieze, adorned with pennants signifying the Yankees' success, are all part of the background of the picture that became known as "The Babe Bows Out."

It became the first sports photo to win the Pulitzer Prize.

Again, it is everything. This is about more than retiring his number and honoring the 1923 team.

This is literally about Babe Ruth's life.

He died three months later.

Obviously, we could highlight numerous other photos -- the "Miracle on Ice," Michael Jordan, levitating, Willie Mays' catch, Bobby Orr flying, Chuck Bednarik over Frank Gifford, Brandi Chastain, Pete Rose -- but we'd be here all night.

This actually took up some of "Doubleheader" today and I loved it. To me, sports is supposed to be in part about such minutiae. It's supposed to be about the cultural impacts and more.

It's those who can handle the debate that survives. 

So these are my choices and there are no wrong answers of course. 

Fire That Bum!

 

Yankees manager Aaron Boone
(Photo: AP/John Minchillo)

The Yankees stink right now.

Can't put it any clearer than that. 

They've been almost unwatchably bad.

It felt like it bottomed out after a horrific weekend in Texas with a 15-2 drubbing on Sunday.

In fact, last night, the Bombers came home and were having a nice evening against Cleveland. They led 2-0 into the top of the ninth behind the brilliant pitching of Domingo German who had thrown a two-hit shutout.

But therein lies the problem: the second hit.

It brought the hook as manager Aaron Boone pulled him to go to closer Clay Holmes.

Now, as I saw Boone come out of the dugout, I'll admit I was uneasy. Holmes has not been good since last July. German had only thrown 88 pitches and had plenty left in the tank. At least I thought so.

But, on the other hand, Holmes is the closer. It's his job to close the game.

There was one out and Holmes induced a bouncer to the third base side of the mound. But, he flubbed it and Cleveland had life.

It all unraveled from there for New York. When it was over, Cleveland had scored three times and took the lead. They closed it out against a beleaguered Yankees lineup in the bottom of the ninth.

The howling began immediately.

"FIRE BOONE!" the mob began.

I got into a text snit about it.

Look, I have never been a fire-the-manager/general manager/anyone type of guy. Managers basically babysit, etc. They can't make players play.

By virtually every account, Aaron Boone is well-liked by his players and that goes a long way. Joe Torre knew how to massage egos and still make decisions back during his time. Few (David Wells, for one) had problems with him

There's a lot more that goes into this stuff than the reactionary sports radio phone callers understand. A lot more than I understand.

By this morning, the heat began to get turned up on Rangers head coach Gerard Gallant following an utterly lifeless performance in Game 7 against the Devils.

Many want Gallant fired as well.

But what are you expecting and who do you want the fired manager/coach?

Is it the different voice in the room that will automatically foster winning?

The examples of that actually happening aren't that common but they certainly have happened. 

I guess my gripe here is that I get tired of the "quick fix" mentality that is firing people. It's a pet peeve of mine groomed in the late 70s and 80s as George Steinbrenner went through managers and coaches with regularity. The hirings and firings of Billy Martin were an embarrassment. Boss George did the same with Lou Piniella and drove Yogi Berra away from the organization for 14 years.

Think about that: Yogi Berra had nothing to do with the New York Yankees from 1985-1999 because he was fired early in the '85 season ... and replaced with Billy.

Those were insane times, friends.

The old saying is, "You can't fire the players, so fire the manager."

Fortunately, the chorus is a little quieter tonight

The Yankees just won, 4-2. No managerial decision seemed to impact the victory.

As for the Rangers, they have all off-season.

And, oh yeah, there are the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Who have had four coaches in my lifetime:

- Bill Austin (four losses in 1968).

- Chuck Noll

- Bill Cowher

- Mike Tomlin

And there are six Vince Lombardi Trophies spread among the last three.

I like that loyalty.

Living My Best Life?

 

I was asked about my day and, well, my answer was purely...

something.

"Just sitting in my chair. Hella exciting."

That was basically the plan of the day.

Home stuff. Writing. Feed Sean. You know, stuff like that.

Oh, and two football playoff games.

And maybe catch a little sleep since someone (not going to name names *cough...The Cat*) prefers that I feed him sometime before 6 a.m. His efforts can begin as early as 4 a.m. Now, granted, he's not always the one waking me up -- I thank getting older for that -- but he's prowling the apartment as I climb out of bed.

I try to go back to sleep. No dice.

I'll grab my AirPods. I might even put an eye mask on. There's no closing him out of my room. Trust me.

No, really, this is my life.

He'll go sleep with Sean when he's not with me but he won't nag Sean to eat. Go figure.

Ultimately, I just cave in, feed him, and try to go back to sleep.

That was this morning's plan.

So after my text was appropriately laughed at, I figured it was OK to keep the gag going. Thus, the picture.

Ugh. What a mess. The bed hair. The old LL Bean robe. The pursed lips. The hand gesture. Utterly ridiculous.

I said that I was "living large." You know, as in living my best life.

Again. Ugh.

But that was the exact idea. Besides, the presence of the cat next to me made it even more fun. He's looking at me with complete disdain. 

Justifiably.

I'm not afraid to dabble in silly. It brought the appropriate laugh and the mission was accomplished.

The rest of the day went as scheduled. Feed Sean. Watch football. 

Write.

By the way, I was rooting for the Buffalo Bills. Look, I'm no fan of the Cincinnati Bengals simply because they're in the Steelers' division. They're a very good team.

But the Bills, in my opinion, had become America's Team for a variety of reasons. The four Super Bowl losses and Damar Hamlin among them. It just feels like Buffalo has suffered enough.

Alas, scriptwriters and so-called "sports gods" don't care. The Bengals soundly beat the Bills today. Cincinnati goes to Kansas City next week.

The Cowboys and 49ers are tied as I write. The winner travels to Philadelphia.

Next week's winners head to the Super Bowl.

Lastly, is ripping on announcers the thing now? It seems to be growing on a weekly basis. If it's not Al Michaels it's Tony Romo. 

Anyway, football will soon be in the rearview mirror.

And then? Then? Spring Training follows!

But first I'll try to sleep again.

The Boring Big Game

 

Remember the Super Bowls of the 80s and early 90s?

You know the ones. We thought we might have a good game on our hands between, say, the 49ers and Broncos. John Elway versus Joe Montana! How can this possibly be a bad game?

And then?

Forty Niners 55, Broncos 10.

Snore.

There were bunch of those "back in the day." In the early 90s (look away, Bills fans!) there was the carnage of three straight blowouts against Buffalo. Or San Diego getting beaten up by Greenwich's Steve Young (oh, and Jerry Rice).

Brutal.

We hoped for a good playoff game tonight between the Buccaneers and Cowboys in Tampa. I mean, let's face it, it's the Hater Bowl. Tom Brady versus Dallas and their fans. There's literally nothing to root for! Taylor Swift can perform the halftime show!

Figuring the game is in Florida and, well, I've got nothing else, I picked the Bucs to win this game. I came home from my radio shows in Poughkeepsie excited to watch it.

As I write, it's Dallas 24, Brady 6 entering the fourth quarter.

Yawn.

It just has that feeling of those painful old Super Bowls. I still remember my excitement, for instance, of watching Dan Marino play in trademarked big game number 19 against San Francisco. Marino had literally changed the quarterback position with a wide-open, pass-happy offense that rewrote the record book. 

Despite the way he and the Dolphins beat up on the Steelers in the AFC Championship, I was hopeful for Marino, the pride of the University of Pittsburgh.

Marino threw for 318 yards and a touchdown but was picked off twice. Miami even led 10-7 after the first quarter.

The Niners built a 28-16 halftime lead and cruised to a 38-16 win. Montana threw for 331 yards and three touchdowns and was named MVP.

Marino, of course, never saw the big game again.

We had a bunch of those stinkers. The close games (Pittsburgh/Dallas in Supers X and XIII were exceptions) were far outnumbered by the disasters. 

We've been more fortunate in recent years and have seen more competitive or even classic championship games.

That is, at least until someone decides to hand Brady the trophy (I mean, Seattle throwing the ball when they had Marshawn Lynch in prime "Beast Mode?"). 

Oh, and the Cowboys just scored again. It's 31-6 Dallas with 9:56 to play.

I'd say the game is basically over and we can move on to the Division Round this weekend.

And I can go to bed.

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."