If you were born in the 70’s and lived in a state without it’s own NFL team, you just might be a Steelers fan. I sure am. And one of the big reasons for that is Franco Harris, who passed away this morning.
Some of my earliest memories were in my living room, wearing my Steelers pj’s, watching Franco slam his way between the tackles for first down after first down. I wanted to be like him. I remember not knowing that they wore shoulder pads and I would walk around the house with my shoulders all hunched up, pretending I was a football player. I played football up til high school because I wanted to to feel like a Steeler.
Years later, I was hired to build an extension on a house. Turns out the owner played football and spent some time on the Steelers. He never played in a regular season game for them. But he did start dating Franco sister. Franco took him under his wing and they became workout partners. My friend went on to other things in other states, but Franco never lost touch with him. Every time the Superbowl was played here, Franco would come for the festivities and invite my friend to the Hall of Fame dinners. I begged him to take me for years so I could meet my idol. And now, I won’t get that privilege.
I see the tributes are pouring in. The city of Pittsburgh is in a state of mourning. And they have every reason to be. My personal shirt tail tale is only a glimpse into the impact the man has had on his community. He clearly cared about nutrition and helping the youth. He owned a bakery, helped black business owners get on their feet, made contributions to school lunch programs and scholarships for higher education. Hell, he even supported Obama by attending the convention as part of the Pennsylvania delegation. Clearly, he was role model for more than just football.
But still, I can’t help but cry from losing a big part of my childhood today.