Plenty. Today, football is in crisis. Important questions are being asked about the game’s violence and the traumatic brain injuries that some players have suffered. Nearly 5,000 former NFL players have sued the league over head injuries, including 25 who played for the Steelers between 1974 and 1979.
As I thought about my narrative, I decided, “Who better to study, in an assessment of what football gives to players, and takes from them, than the 1970s Steelers?”
They are grandfathers now, in their sixties. They’ve got creaky bones, and titanium knees, hips and shoulders. Some of them walk like crabs. They have lived the full measure of the football experience, a quarter century and more beyond their playing days.
Certainly there is triumph in this team’s story, not only those four Super Bowl rings, but the players’ enduring brotherhood. They played in the NFL’s pre-free agency era and spent about a decade together. It seems hard to believe but Stallworth, Bradshaw, Swann, Donnie Shell, Greene, Jack Lambert, Jack Ham, and L.C. Greenwood played a combined one hundred NFL seasons – and every one of those seasons for the Steelers.
They knew each other intimately and intuitively, as athletes and as men. They knew the cigarettes they smoked, the beer they drank, the women they loved. They saw each other bloodied, and exultant. And when they got together in the sauna at Three Rivers Stadium, post-game, no coaches or press allowed, Lambert running the show, they shared beers, elevated B.S. to high art, and reveled in their great fortune to be together. Some of their happiest times together were spent in that sauna.
But there is tragedy in this team’s story, too. A dozen Steelers from those Super Bowl teams of the 1970’s died before the age of sixty, from a variety of causes. That list includes Mike Webster, the Hall of Fame center, who became the first NFL player ever diagnosed with CTE – Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy – brain damage from getting hit in the head too many times. Webster played 17 seasons at football’s most physically vulnerable position.
The cause of Mike Webster’s death was football. When Webster died in 2002 at fifty, the legacy of the 1970s Steelers expanded, and darkened. In the archives of that legacy, filed beside those glorious highlight films, and four Lombardi Trophies, and twelve Hall of Fame busts in Canton, are the stained laboratory slides that revealed brown splotches in neurofibrillary tangles in Mike Webster’s brain.
John Banaszak, the Steelers’ defensive lineman, offered a penetrating perspective. He told me that football gave him his teammates. Then he said, “You want to talk about what the game takes away from you? It takes away your teammates.”