PITTSBURGH — Armed with a “God Bless Franco” sign and a lifetime of memories, Jim Botti braved the blustery cold Friday to make his way to the North Shore. The Steelers held a re-enactment, of sorts, for the Immaculate Reception, 50 years to the minute, complete with the radio call being pumped through the Acrisure Stadium speakers at 3:41 p.m. sharp.
“I said I’d miss this only when hell freezes over,” Botti grinned, “and we’re pretty close to that today.”
Botti and about 100 others didn’t let temperatures in the negatives and snowy road conditions stop them from a chance to honor the life and times of Franco Harris. Friday’s event turned out to be something of a precursor to Saturday night’s Steelers-Raiders game, which will include a ceremony retiring the No. 32 jersey Harris wore and celebrating the 50th anniversary of what’s widely considered to be the greatest play in NFL history.
The mood of the day took on a more somber tone due to the death of Harris a little more than 24 hours earlier. From the outside, it was poignant to approach the FedEx Great Hall and walk past a video board that read “Franco Harris 1950-2022” with his smiling face alongside it.
Inside, around 3:30, fans lined up around tables watching highlights of the game on miniature TVs. But when the voice of play-by-play broadcaster Jack Fleming began to reverberate through the building, an otherwise tempered afternoon turned joyous.
“Bittersweet,” said Botti, a North Versailles native who remembers listening to the play on the clock radio at his childhood home when he was 11. “I’ve heard it literally 500 times in my life, but hearing it here was one of the most impactful ones.”
The crowd was composed of die-hards such as Botti, families with small children and even some fans visiting Pittsburgh for the first time. Sticking out a bit among the crowd was Gustavo Vasquez, decked out in a Raiders shawl and “Raider Nation” hat that almost made it feel more like a real game than a remembrance.
Vasquez, 56, made the drive to Pittsburgh from El Paso, Texas, with his lifelong friend Sal Perez, a Steelers fan who now lives in Austin. The trek began Tuesday for Vasquez, a day later for Perez, but both had planned out this pilgrimage long before they knew the weather would be frightful and Harris would be mourned.
“The whole time, we’re watching the Weather Channel, just kind of skirting the blizzard,” Perez said.
“We had to be here,” Vasquez added. “It was a little scary, honestly. Interstates closing down, but we didn’t want to be part of that. We took the risk.”
Their teeth will be chattering at the prime-time matchup between their two teams this weekend, too, and they called it “surreal” to learn Harris died shortly after they set off on their journey. Vasquez has been to several stadiums around the league but said he was “overdue” to see Pittsburgh and figured what better time than to soak in the atmosphere for the 50th anniversary of that infamous loss for his beloved Raiders.
The Steelers’ plans for commemorating the exact date were scuttled by the tragic news mid-week, as well as the arctic blast that came from the west. There was supposed to be much more pomp and circumstance at the actual site of the Immaculate Reception, now marked by a monument on West General Robinson Street outside the stadium. Steelers president Art Rooney II and Harris were set to address fans, with appearances by other members of the 1972 team.
In lieu of that, the Steelers got creative with their social media presence. The official team Twitter account, @Steelers, sent out tweets all day as if they were glued to their smartphones on Dec. 23, 1972, an initiative dubbed, “The Immaculate Rewind.”
There were quarterly score updates, photos from the crowd that day and even postgame quotes. Ryan Huzjak, the team’s vice president for sales and marketing, said a lot of legwork went into that project to give supporters across the globe another way to relive the moment and take part in the festivities.
Initial research began in the summer, only intensifying in the fall. The team logged the entirety of the national radio broadcast, including a pregame show, and they also reviewed the organization’s internal video and photo archives. A running script took roughly two weeks to create, and details were still being tweaked as of Friday morning.
Back at the in-person gathering, Janice McCormick headed for the exits while remarking on how cool the experience was. Growing up in Regent Square and now living in Carnegie, she has celebrated plenty of Steelers wins over the years.
This was an opportunity for her to pay her respects to Harris but also feel a connection to what made her fall in love with football and the Steelers. She’d often watch the games with her late friend, Wendy Witt, learning about the sport from Wendy’s older brothers and even greeting the team at the airport with the Witt family when the players would return from Super Bowl victories.
“She taught me the basics of football, so in those early ‘70s is when I started my love for the game,” McCormick said. “I’ve been a lifetime Steeler fan, and with the unfortunate passing of Franco, it’s a way of honoring not only him but to honor the Witts and their friendship.”
In that sense, Harris continues to unite people, same as he did when he snagged that ball just above the ground and took off running. Surely, he would’ve beamed with pride as the crowd chanted “Here We Go Steelers!” and “Here We Go Franco!” with their Terrible Towels whipping through the frigid air.
“Over the past 50 years, I’ve made lifelong friends, had some of my best memories and good times all revolving around the Steelers,” said Botti, a proud Italian who has long considered himself part of Franco’s Italian Army. “Franco started it all for me.”
