Exiting the Pittsburgh airport last week, I asked my son if he had glimpsed the statue of Franco Harris grabbing the football during the iconic December 1972 Immaculate Reception. We searched in earnest, given the redesign of the airport, which looks terrific. Still, the Pittsburgh airport wouldn’t be the same if that statue was gone. Pittsburgh wouldn’t be the same without that historic moment.
The Franco statue stood aside a gallant George Washington. Washington’s many links to our region need not be recalled for this audience. Of course, what’s hilariously funny about the two side by side is that it seems to equate Franco’s reception with the feats of the father of our nation. Obviously, we know not to equate the two. Nonetheless, we smile and take it in stride. After all, in these parts, the Steelers are like a religion. As native son Michael Keaton has said, “in Pittsburgh, football is like a religion, and everyone in town goes to the same church.”
Given that reverence, it’s fitting that the Immaculate Reception derives its name from the Immaculate Conception. We locals accept this good-naturedly.
That said, and if I may invoke more religious metaphors, to dispatch the Franco statue from atop the airport escalators off to the side somewhere would seem an affront, akin to moving the tabernacle from the high altar to a side chapel. But alas, I regret to report that such a heresy seems to have been committed.
As my son and I searched near midnight after a long flight from Phoenix, we finally found Franco — moved from where everyone could see him and pay homage to an area cut into a wall that we almost missed entirely. In a way, it’s not a bad move. It’s now an exhibit, with context provided to the unwashed masses mystified by the moment.
But on the other hand, well, Franco is no longer front and center. Visitors can now easily miss him.
The fact that the statue was unmissable was itself part of the attraction and a reflection of our unique sports lore. There’s a wonderful 2012 NFL Network documentary on the Immaculate Reception that begins with a funny discussion among local observers marveling that Franco was accorded equal footing aside George Washington. I recall when we at Grove City College hosted Washington scholar Gary Gregg in downtown Pittsburgh. He began by noting his wry appreciation of seeing Franco Harris right next to Washington when he arrived in the Steel City. The audience roared.
All of which is to say, I liked the statue where it was.
To a larger point, I would add this: It’s fascinating that in our region our most beloved history revolves around sports. Sports figures are our historical heroes.
In my previous column, I paid tribute to Bill Mazeroski. It’s interesting that just as Pittsburgh owns the greatest play in football history, it also owns arguably the greatest play in baseball history with Maz’s home run against the Yankees in October 1960. The sight of Maz waving his hat circling those bases is arguably equal to the iconic image of Franco dashing to the end zone against the Raiders in December 1972.
All of which prompts this suggestion to the Pittsburgh airport folks: Why not create an exhibit to Maz’s epic home run? Seriously, think about it. With Maz’s recent passing, it’s just the right time for such a tribute.
