RIP Franco: Honoring a Legend

Story by Yinzer Crazy Contributor Luke Ranalli

I don't typically check the news when I get up, so an early morning text from my fiancé was particularly hard to read "Did you hear the news? Franco Harris passed away."

I feel like this topic is hard to cover for someone my age. Being 32 years old, I never actually saw Franco play ball, but growing up, he's all I heard about. From family gatherings to Steelers playoff parties, Franco was nothing short of a Pittsburgh hero. Hell, my brother and I have Christmas ornaments of the Immaculate Reception that our parents got for us before we could even talk. 

Franco started his career in the black and gold after graduating from Penn State, and hit the ground running, literally. Franco debuted his rookie season in 1972 as a running back for the Steelers and made a name for himself early by racking up 10 rushing TD's, over 1,000 rush yards, and just under 200 yards receiving -- and a receiving touchdown. Those are good numbers in today's standards, and this was back when the regular season was only 14 games. 

Franco didn't stop there. Throughout his career he would manage to have eight 1,000 yard seasons, over 12k rushing yards, 100 total TD's and nine Pro Bowl appearances. He did all this in 13 season, 12 of which were with the black and gold. All of these efforts as we know, eventually leading to an induction in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Being notable on the field was not Franco's only form of popularity. Harris was wildly popular with the Italian-American population in Pittsburgh, even gaining attention from the likes of Frank Sinatra. Harris, in fact, has his own army, "Franco's Italian Army" to be exact. His army would go as far as wearing helmets with his number on them, and of course, it was lead by Sinatra, who was officially made a one-star general. 

Let's not forget those iconic Coca-Cola commercials either, or his work with the United Way. Franco Harris was a household name in Pittsburgh, and throughout the country, sports related or not. 

But of course what Franco Harris will go down in the history books for eternity is the Immaculate Reception. It's a moment that has been immortalized forever, and will be talked about long after anyone alive to witness it is gone. I, unfortunately, was not one of those people, but I sure did relive that moment with my dad many times with the old NFL VHS videos he would have on repeat.

What makes the Immaculate Reception so iconic is not so much the catch itself, but what it meant for the Steelers organization. Before 1972, Franco's rookie season, the Steelers had only made the playoffs one time, in 1947 losing to the eagles in the divisional. The Steelers may have been a steel city favorite, but they were by no means winners. That would all change though, and some would say the Immaculate Reception was the catalyst that started it all. 

This was Chuck Noll's fourth season as head coach, on his way to build a dynasty that would yield four Super Bowls and countless playoff appearances in a little over two decades. In their first playoff appearance since the 40's, it appeared as though the Steelers were going to remain the lovable losers. With less than 30 seconds left on the clock, fourth and 10 and no timeouts remaining down by one in a 6-7 score game, it was looking like a lost cause. Three Rivers Stadium was packed with 50,000 plus fans for what was at the time, a rare occasion in the 'Burgh, and they were more than riled up. 

Terry Bradshaw drops back in the pocket, way back, the offensive line collapses and two Raider linemen are in hot pursuit. Bradshaw throws a bomb down field intended for John "Frenchy" Fuqua who gets branded by Jack Tatum from behind, ball ricochets a thousand miles an hour, hearts sink, game over. The Raiders in the vicinity of the play thought so as well as they can be seen for a split second begin to celebrate and act as if the game was over. But then, from out of seemingly nowhere, Harris emerges like a bat out of hell, stiff-arming Jimmy Warren to make his way into the endzone.

For the next 15 minutes, hysteria ensued with the seats in Three Rivers Stadium becoming vacant as the rowdy fans stormed the field. Finally the officials came to a conclusion and clear the field of the riot, Roy Gerela's kick is up, it's good, and the Pittsburgh Steelers would get their first ever playoff win in team history.

Later that night, another Pittsburgh legend gets a call from his friend Sharon Levosky and tells him he should name the play after what her friend Michael Ord referred to as "the Immaculate Reception". When Myron Cope got on his 11 p.m. broadcast that night, he used the term, and made it immortal.

Now, almost 50 years to the day of the most infamous catch in NFL history, we mourn the loss of Harris. 

Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons, this one though, I can't figure out just yet. Franco was about to be celebrated and honored on Christmas Eve, this Saturday at the Steelers-Raiders game. His number was going to be retired, and I'm sure there was going to be endless talk of that day and Franco's career, but we were robbed of that, to a degree. I'm sure the NFL plans to honor Franco and there will be a lot of talk about who he was as a person, his accomplishments, and clips from his career and the Immaculate Reception, but it will be bitter sweet at best. 

Franco was more than a football legend on the field, he was a father, a husband, a community leader active in the United Way and other charitable programs. Saturday will be a tough day for Steeler Nation as the credits roll for an incredible human being. There won't be a dry eye in Pittsburgh, and probably most of the country. 

Rest easy Franco.