Last week was a sad week for Pittsburgh’s ardent football fans.
The author of the iconic “Immaculate Reception,” the last play in the Steelers’ football game against …
This item is available in full to subscribers.
We have recently launched a new and improved website. To continue reading, you will need to either log into your subscriber account, or purchase a new subscription.
If you had an active account on our previous website, then you have an account here. Simply reset your password to regain access to your account.
If you did not have an account on our previous website, but are a current print subscriber, click here to set up your website account.
Otherwise, click here to view your options for subscribing.
* Having trouble? Call our circulation department at 360-385-2900, or email our support.
Please log in to continue |
|
Last week was a sad week for Pittsburgh’s ardent football fans.
The author of the iconic “Immaculate Reception,” the last play in the Steelers’ football game against the hated Oakland Raiders in 1972, passed away.
There is no conclusive video proof that Franco Harris actually caught the ball before it hit the ground and thus would be judged “dead” and not in play. Conversely, there is no conclusive evidence that it did hit the ground before being caught. No matter, my mission here is to relate but one personal story about Franco.
In 1972, I had just been discharged from the U.S. Navy after three years, eight months, and nine days of service. We were moving from Washington, D.C. to Pittsburgh and were excited to be able to see some pro football games.
The fans in Washington were typically somewhat more flush than a young petty officer and thus Washington’s stadium was always sold out with politicos of one stripe or another despite the less than stellar performance of Sonny Jurgenson, Billy Kilmer, et al.
The Steelers had not done well for decades, having won but one playoff game in 1947. However, Coach Chuck Noll was in his fourth year and had drafted quarterback Terry Bradshaw in 1970 who was in his third year with the team.
You vintage football fans may remember that Bradshaw had actually been in intense competition with Terry Hanratty for the job at that time. Hanratty played backup to Bradshaw until he joined the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in 1976 who were distinguished by losing every game that year.
While in Pittsburgh looking for an apartment at Thanksgiving in 1971, we heard on the radio that Three Rivers Stadium, now replaced, was about one-third full so we optimistically thought we might be able to see some games in person. Not true, as the Steelers became the team of the 1970s.
The Steelers went from a record of 6-8 in 1971 to 11-3 in 1972 and thus qualified for the divisional playoff game of the AFC playoffs against the Oakland Raiders. With 22 seconds left in the game, the Steelers were behind 7-6 and it was fourth down on the Steelers’ 40-yard line. Bradshaw threw a pass intended for Frenchy Fuqua but the ball bounced off the helmet of the Raiders’ Jack Tatum as he and Frenchy collided and ended up in Franco’s hands and he headed for the end zone. Yep, he scored the touchdown, leading to a victory for the Steelers and the play has been judged by many as the best football play in NFL history. Franco became a hero and a legend after playing for Pittsburgh for 12 years and his last year for Seattle in 1984.
Needing some exercise after work in downtown Pittsburgh, and desiring to avoid the rush hour traffic, I joined the local YMCA.
The basketball court at the Y drew players of all levels of talent: corporate guys like me, kids from the inner city, and guys like Franco Harris and his teammates. The end line of the court was roughly 6 inches from the brick wall at the end of the gym. The games were pickup games where teams were made up by players on the sidelines to play the winner of the games in progress.
Franco would pick the youngest, scrawniest, and smallest kids for his team and seemed to win more than one might predict.
No matter, when Franco got a rebound at one end of the floor and took off for the other end, I am telling you the brick wall was at risk of being destroyed. Yep, he was a talented athlete and a person willing to share it.
Nope, I never got in his way.
Love a curmudgeon and have a Happy New Year.
(Ned “Low-flying Layup” Luce is a retired IBM executive and Port Ludlow resident. Contact Ned at ned@ptleader.com.)