It's Super Bowl Sunday, and I'm rooting for the father of the ambassador to Ireland. The ambassador is Dan Rooney, and his dad was Art Rooney, founder of the Pittsburgh Steelers.
Still, this poses a problem, as I'll explain later.
When I was a young shaver, for reasons I didn't understand at the time, I always imagined myself marching abreast of the solid, honest teachers of sports. Later, in my newspaper career, I found myself in the company of men such as Jack Dempsey, Joe Lapchick, Vince Lombardi, Weeb Ewbank, Ray Arcel and Wellington Mara. These were the leaders who I thoroughly admired, and, I'm grateful to say, they returned that admiration. This pleased me, because this was the best way to understand sports.
So, you get the idea where my values lie. Art Rooney, who died in 1988 at age 87, was a man I got to know through the years. From his Pittsburgh home, he paid many visits to New York for functions. We sat together many times, frequently broke bread together and talked sports.
Art Rooney was a battler. He loved to box and was damn good with his dukes as an amateur. He was a great gentleman who never failed to doff his hat to a passing lady. He was the sort of old gent you hardly see anymore. He was genuine and true to all people, big or small. He always had a twinkle in his eye and a relaxed half-smile that made his Irish face look friendly as he puffed on his ever-present cigar. Rooney seemed to be the man who could settle any matter.
I have two Super Bowl footballs from Mr. Rooney, which he signed as the owner of the NFL champions. With the football always came a box of cigars.
Byron (Whizzer) White, who was a football star before he became Justice White of the U.S. Supreme Court, once said this about Rooney: "I played for Art and later got to know him real well, and I can honestly say he is the finest man I have ever met in my life." High praise coming from a guy who himself was a very special person.
This is why I like Pittsburgh. Not because of Ben Roethlisberger, not because Big Ben is better than Aaron Rogers; I like Pittsburgh for one reason: Art Rooney.
Now here's the rub: Vince Lombardi was also a friend. I knew him and his wife, Marie, who would collect all my cartoons when I dubbed him "Mount Lombardi." She made a coffee-table book of all my originals and showed it off to guests. Lombardi was another one of those straight-from-the-shoulder guys, sure of himself and his vast talents, who taught fine football players to be even finer.
Lombardi, like those other giants I mentioned earlier, Dempsey, Lapchick and the rest, had that undefeatable attitude when the game went down to the wire. He expected a win. History shows he usually got it.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق