Category: Steelers

O’Brien column for The Valley Mirror

Al Davis died at his home in Oakland,California last week.  He was 82 and he had been challenged by ill health for several years.

          I last saw him on Sunday, Oct. 2, when the TV cameras focused on him as he sat behind glass windows in the owners’ box as his Oakland Raiders were defeated by the New England Patriots.  He missed seeing only three games in his 49 years with the Raiders.

          Al Davis didn’t look good.  He hasn’t looked good in a long time.  Some Steelers’ fans felt he never looked good.  His face was the face of the enemy.  The silver and gold never liked the silver and black. Daviswas the Darth Vader of pro football.

          Chuck Noll never liked Al Davis.  They were both assistant coaches under Sid Gillman with theLos Angelesand then San Diego Chargers in the early ‘60s.  Dan Rooney didn’t care much for Al Davis.  He once called him “a lying creep.”  They later made up.

          When Dan Rooney bid goodbye to his fellow owners at one of their meetings a few years ago – he was going to be spending time overseas as our ambassador toIreland– he said, “I’ll miss all of you guys, even you Al.”

          Al Davis came up and embraced Dan Rooney and shook his hand and wished him well on his new assignment.

          Arthur J. Rooney Sr., the late owner and founder of the Steelers, liked Al Davis.  He said, “He’s a good football man, if he’d keep his mind on football.”

         Daviswas always taking the league to court on one issue or another, fighting to keep his Raiders in LA orOakland, or to relocate them wherever he wished. Davishad his own “reality TV series” before there was such a thing.

          I spent time with Al Davis on at least a dozen occasions over a lifetime as a sportswriter and he was always interesting, available and quotable.  I liked Al Davis.

          He died the same week that anotherNorthern Californiaicon died.  Steve Jobs, the founder and CEO of Apple, Inc., died at age 56.  Both were geniuses in their own game.  The Raiders won’t be the Raiders without Al Davis and Apple won’t be Apple without Steve Jobs.   Both were innovative and inspirational and difficult to live with, and they changed their respective worlds.

          ThoughDavisgrew up in a nice home, he liked to portray himself as a tough guy from the streets ofBrooklyn.  But he graduated fromSyracuseUniversitywith a degree in English, so he was never able to pull it off convincingly.

          I had a degree in English from Pitt, and Myron Cope accused me of playing “the poor kid from Hazelwood” role a bit much, so Davis and I had a bond.  We understood each other.

         Davisbecame the youngest coach in the NFL at age 33 in 1963 and he would later become the owner of the Oakland Raiders and one of the leaders of the American Football League.  He’s one of the reasons the Raiders and the AFL lived to merge with the established NFL.  There was no Raider for top talent like Al Davis.

         Daviswas often at odds with the other owners and with NFL Commissioners whether it was Pete Rozelle, Paul Tagliabue or Roger Goodell. Daviswas daring and determined.  “Win, baby, win,” was his slogan in running the Raiders’ operation.  He stressed excellence in his organization.

          He liked black and silver and chose them for the team’s uniforms because he thought the colors were intimidating.  His Raiders won three Super Bowls and they were the chief rival of the Steelers for a long time.  He and Raiders’ coach John Madden never forgave Franco Harris for “The Immaculate Reception” in the 1972 playoffs.

          I first met Al Davis in the office of Beano Cook, when he was the sports information director at Pitt.  This was in 1961 or 1962 and I was an undergraduate at Pitt.  I was the sports editor of The Pitt News and I helped out in Beano’s office at the Pitt Field House.

          This was a Friday before a football game at nearby Pitt Stadium. Daviswas one of four individuals who came to Cook’s office back-to-back in a 15-minute period to pick up their press box credentials for the following day.

          First came Davis, then an assistant coach and scout for the Chargers.  He was followed by Frank “Bucko” Kilroy, a scout for the Washington Redskins who had played for the “Steagles” in 1943; Emlen Tunnell, a scout for the New York Giants who had been a great defensive back for that club in the ‘50s and ‘60s, and then Red Smith, the outstanding sports columnist of the New York Herald-Tribune.

          They are all in one kind of Hall of Fame or another.  I was about 20 at the time and it should have been a tip-off to me that life as a sportswriter would be a good life.

          I have been fortunate ever since to spend time with and interview some of the greatest names in sports.  Al Davis was one of them.  He was the least known of the four when I first met him.

          He was wearing a black leather jacket over a black turtle neck jersey, dark sun glasses, and his hair was combed back in the “ducktail” style, a holdover from the ‘50s. He looked like The Fonz, a wise-cracking street corner guy from the TV Series “Happy Days” as played by Henry Winkler in a cast headed by future movie director Ron Howard.  To the end, Al Davis had a “ducktail” hair style.

          I ran into Davisabout eight years later in a hotel swimming pool in Atlanta.  I was covering a pre-season contest involving the Miami Dolphins.  I was writing for The Miami News at the time.

          We were both splish-splashing away when we came upon each other face to face.  I introduced myself and he said, “I know who you are, Jim O’Brien.  I’ve read your stories.”

          I later learned that Al Davis read the sports sections of the daily newspapers in all the cities in the league.  This was 1969, the last season of the AFL before the merger with the NFL in 1970.

          Al Davis was a lot like Yankees’ owner George Steinbrenner in that respect.  They both read the sports sections from cover to cover and they were aware of what was going on in all sports, not just their sport.  Art Rooney was like that, too, a man for all seasons.

          I would see Al Davis at the NFL Owners’ Meetings at Maui and Scottsdaleand Palm Springswhen I was covering the Steelers for The Pittsburgh Press in the ‘80s.  Imagine getting paid to spend time in those exotic places, partying and playing tennis with the owners and coaches in pro football.  I was also fortunate enough to do that in pro baseball and basketball as well.  I miss those days.

         Daviswas always delightful company.  He liked to talk to sportswriters and share his opinions on any subject.  He said he didn’t seek the spotlight, but other owners accused him of being a showboat.

          I remember seeing Al Davis when he attended the funeral Mass of Art Rooney at St. Peter’s Church on the North Side in late August, 1988.

          Something ironic happened that day. The church was filled. It was SRO. There had to be sixty or seventy priests there that day.  George Young, the general manager of the Giants and a long time pal of Art Rooney Jr., the team’s player personnel director in the ‘70s, said, “No Catholic in Pittsburgh better have died that day or there’d be no priest available to give them the last rites.”

          Pete Rozelle came into the church to pay his respects and an usher took him down the center aisle, and seated him in the last seat available on the aisle.  I was sitting in a pew directly across the aisle.  Al Davis was sitting directly ahead of Rozelle on the aisle seat.

          I knew what was coming.  When the officiating priest told those in attendance to turn and offer a peace greeting to those in front and behind them, I smiled as Al Davis turned and, to his surprise, saw Rozelle there.  They shook hands and offered thin smiles.  I thought that Art Rooney Sr. was smiling overhead and that he’d had a hand in this peace offering as well.

         Daviswas accompanied by his wife Carol at St. Peter’s. Daviswas always quick to introduce his wife. He called her “Caroli.”  She had a stroke in 1979 and nearly died.  When she was deathly ill in the early ‘80s,Davisrecalled how Art Rooney was in constant touch, sent her flowers often, sent her encouraging words, and went to visit her. Davissaid he would never forget Rooney’s concern and personal kindness toward him and his wife.

          Carol Davis confirmed the goodness of Art Rooney. “He’s one of the last of a vanishing breed,” she said.  “When you find somebody as special as him, you better treasure him.  He’s such a good man. He said he remembered me in his prayers.”

          Carol is still living.

          I used to go to the Pro Football Hall of Fame Weekend activities inCanton,Ohiomost summers in the ‘80s and ‘90s.

Daviswould be there. Daviswas often chosen by his Raiders’ players to present them for the Hall of Fame induction. 

          I saw him present Fred Belitnikoff, Art Shell and Gene Upshaw. Daviswas also inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame.  Some of my friends feel he is undeserving, but that’s mostly because they don’t like him and thought him a bit of an outlaw, always opposing the league in one way or another.

          I talked to him inside the Hall of Fame in the summer of 1989.  John Henry Johnson and Joe Greene of the Steelers got in that year, and so did Gene Upshaw.

          I was with my buddies Bill Priatko and Rudy Celigoi, both from North Braddock, and we were talking to a former Raider fromYoungwood,Pa., the great George Blanda, and then Mike Ditka, of Aliquippa and Pitt.

         Davisstrolled by, dressed in black.  He saw us talking to Blanda and Ditka, and he thundered, “You guys fromPittsburghare always hanging out together.”

          He smiled and posed for some pictures.

Pittsburgh sports author and Valley Mirror columnist Jim O’Brien has copies of “The Chief” and “Steeler Stuff” available at area bookstores.  His website is www.jimobriensportsauthor.com

O’Brien: Jerry West and Aaron Smith Overcome Childhood Challenges:

I was listening to Jerry West and I was thinking about Aaron Smith.

          I doubt that Jerry West and Aaron Smith have ever appeared in the same sentence in the sports pages, but they share a strong bond, and not just because they both played basketball in high school.

          Both suffered severe beatings at the hands of their fathers and often feared for their lives and those of their family members when they were children.  They have startling stories to share.

          West has been the symbol of the NBA for most of his adult life, as a star with the Los Angeles Lakers, indeed, one of the greatest basketball players of all time, and as a coach and front-office executive with several franchises.  The image on the NBA logo is a silhouette of Jerry West.

          Smith is regarded as one of the greatest defensive ends in the history of the Pittsburgh Steelers.  He’s presently on injured reserve, finished for the rest of the season and some fear his pro career has come to an end.

          Smith was on the sideline Sunday night at Heinz Field, wishing he could be out on the field to fend off the game-winning drive by the Baltimore Ravens in the final four minutes of a critical AFC North match-up that was seen on national television.

          The Steelers gave away the game the way Pitt did the night before at the same site against Cincinnati.  It was a difficult weekend for Pittsburgh football fans.  Penn State was dealing with a sexual abuse scandal involving one of its former assistant coaches, with some administrators accused of being complicit in a cover-up.

          In short, it was not a good weekend for our favorite teams and schools.

          Smith felt as helpless as he often did as a child growing up in a trailer park in Colorado Springs.  When he was eight, nine and ten years old, he told me he slept with a baseball bat under his pillow in case his father came after him when he was sleeping.

          He used to tell his father he loved him, hoping that would keep him safe from the verbal and physical assaults his father committed on Aaron’s mother and siblings.

          West said he was so angry with his father he wanted to kill him.  West now discloses that he slept with a rifle in his bed to defend himself from any assaults.

          West was being interviewed by Scott Simon on his Saturday morning talk show on NPR this past weekend.  The former West Virginia University All-American and NBA icon has a new tell-all memoir out called West by West: My Charmed, Tormented Life.   

          In his book, West tells a dark side of his life I had never heard disclosed.  He has suffered from depression and said he didn’t know what love was really all about because his father was always swearing and hitting whoever was nearby in a humble home in Chelyan, West Virginia.  His mother withheld affection, and was a cold sort.  West’s first marriage ended in divorce.

          The family mail came to a Cabin Creek post office address, and hence West was heralded in a national magazine article I read as a teen in Sport magazine called “The Zeke from Cabin Creek.”

          I did know that West hated that nickname the way his giant teammate Wilt Chamberlain hated being called “Wilt the Stilt.”  West still speaks with a West Virginia twang, but he never thought of himself as a hillbilly.  He was proud to call West Virginia home.

          I interviewed and spoke with West on at least a dozen occasions in my career as a sports journalist, but he never mentioned the madness of his upbringing.

          He always seemed like the epitome of athletic success, a true Horatio Alger story.  He seemed so confident, one of the greatest clutch performers I’d seen in any sport or athletic endeavor.

          I have interviewed Aaron Smith once, and he let it all hang out.  “How big is your book?” he asked me when I approached him about doing an interview for: Steeler Stuff: Stories About A Championship Season and a Remarkable Journey.  “I have lots of stories to tell you.”    

          The hair went up on the back of my neck as he shared his stories, and talked about the terrible tirades of his father, Harold Smith, a 6-4, 250-pound hard-drinking unhappy man who wreaked havoc on his family.  I felt like I was in a confessional box hearing Smith’s disturbing story.

          “I can’t remember when my father wasn’t swearing at us,” said Smith.  “I thought it was the American way.

          “When I was a young kid I often told my father how much I loved him, hoping he’d spare me the next time he went on a tirade.”

          So many kids are ruined by being raised in this kind of environment.  They never recover from it, or find happiness in their own lives.  Often they repeat the sins of the father.

          That’s not the case with Jerry West and Aaron Smith.  They are two of the best people I’ve met in my 55 years as a professional sports writer.  They have always been popular in the clubhouse, team leaders.  In that sense, they are like Bill Mazeroski, Arnold Palmer, Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell and Mario Lemieux.

          West and Smith had great reputations with the media because they made themselves available, and they were generous with their comments and reflections.  They set the best example.  They were model citizens.

          I wasn’t planning on including Smith in my book about the Steelers because I hadn’t read anything interesting about him at the time, about five or six years ago.  But when I was in the Steelers’ locker room one day he smiled and said hello, and made me feel comfortable in his company.

          His story ended up being the first chapter in the book because his story was so compelling.  To this day, I have yet to read the story of his difficult upbringing in any newspaper or magazine.

          He and his wife Jaimie have five children, and much has been written about their child Elijah who has a rare form of leukemia, but appears to be faring well with proper medical treatment.  The Steelers, to a man, have rallied around Smith and his family in that regard.

          Aaron Smith has gotten involved in many fund-raising events for local agencies involved with looking after challenged children, kids who have suffered from neglect and abuse, children looking for foster or adoptive parents.  Smith stands up for kids because he can understand their plight.

          I recall seeing him and some of his teammates at a fund-raiser organized by Charlie Batch, the Steelers’ reserve quarterback from Homestead.  It was a night of games to benefit Every Child, an East Liberty based agency that looks after hard-to-place children to find foster and adoptive parents.  The event was held at Dave & Buster’s on The Waterfront in Homestead.

          Smith has also worked with Auberle Foundation in McKeesport and the Holy Family Institute in Pittsburgh.  The latter organization, supported by the Rooney Family, has honored him as their Man of the Year on one occasion at a luncheon I attended at Heinz Field.

          His teammates on the Steelers are upset that he’s sidelined again, for the third year in a row, and that he might be finished as a pro football player.  He is one of the team favorites.

          Jerry West was always one of my favorite professional athletes.  We go back a long way.

          I recall traveling through West Virginia about 12 years ago when I saw a sign on the highway that heralded Cabin Creek as the home town of Hall of Fame (1979) star Jerry West.  I told my wife Kathie that I had wondered where Cabin Creek was since I was a teenager.  I got off the highway and visited the community.  It made me realize just how humble were the beginnings of Jerry West.

          I first saw West with his Lakers’ teammates in the lobby of the Hotel Manhattan when I stayed there with the Pitt football team in 1962 when I was the sports editor of The Pitt News.  I saw him and the great Elgin Baylor in their warm-ups.  They’d come from a workout at the old Madison Square Garden.

          My brother Dan and I traveled to New York City in the mid-60s and saw West leading the Lakers to a victory over the New York Knicks at the old Madison Square Garden on Ninth Avenue. He kept hitting one outside jumper after another in the stretch run.

          I saw West playing against the Knicks at the current Madison Square Garden over Penn Station in the NBA championship playoff series in 1970.

          I saw West hit a 60-foot shot in The Forum in Los Angeles during that same series that sent the game into overtime.  “I wanted the ball when the game was on the line,” he said.  That’s why they called him “Mr. Clutch.”

          West starred for the Olympic basketball team that won a gold medal in 1960 and he played 14 seasons in the NBA and he was in the All-Star Game every season.  He was one of the league’s greatest scorers and he was a terrific playmaker and rebounder as well.  He and Oscar Robertson, Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant are the best guards I’ve seen. 

          I visited West in his office in the same building when he was the Lakers’ general manager.  When I was leaving, I asked him if he could direct me to the men’s room.  He took me there.  It was a small gesture, but to me it told me so much about Jerry West.

          He has always been so down-to-earth. When I worked as the public relations director for the athletic department in the mid-80s, West would come to the Pitt Field House to scout college talent for the Lakers.

          Whenever I asked him to do a pre-game or half-time interview on Pitt’s radio broadcast, West was always willing to oblige. 

          The last time I saw him was on August 14, 2000 when I traveled to Morgantown, the community where West Virginia University is located, to attend a ceremony where they named a street after Jerry West.

          His coach at WVU and with the Lakers, Fred Schaus, was present for the ceremony.  Schaus was also a class act. West Virginia Governor Cecil H. Underwood was there as well.  West was kind and obliging to everybody that day.

          I have to get a copy of Jerry West’s new book.  I guess there’s a lot about Jerry West I don’t know.

          Pittsburgh sports author Jim O’Brien has books called Steeler Stuff and Hometown Heroes that contain chapters on Aaron Smith and Jerry West.  Jim will be signing copies of his books on Black Friday, Nov. 25, from 9 a.m. till 4 p.m. at Bradley’s Book Outlet at Century III Mall in West Mifflin

First, can you let readers know about your ministry and your work speaking to youth on drugs, sex alcohol?

My  mission is to share my personal life experiences with students, helping them to recognize the consequences of their decisions and  choices while giving them the message of hope.

What’s the most challenging aspect of this work, and do you use your experiences in the NFL as part of your message (if so, how)?

The most challenging part of this work is that we are losing a generation of young people to alcohol, drugs ,violence, and sex. The #1 killer among teenagers is drinking and driving. The #2 killer is drug overdose. By the year 2020, 68 million teenagers will die from AIDS.

The most challenging part is that I can’t reach them by myself. I need help from active and retired players and  fans. I need people who want to be transparent about their wrong way of living to reach our young people.

Continue reading “Tim Lester, Steelers Fullback, 1995-1998”