Stephen Dubner (34:24)
Yeah, he wasn't very interested. He was a very good man. I think he died suddenly, tragically, a couple years ago. Yeah, you know, I pitched him on this story. Basically. I said, you know, he was, as you just said, a childhood hero. I had this recurring dream every night for a couple years, not long after my dad died. It was plainly a sort of messiah rescue dream. And I was a huge Pittsburgh Steelers fan. And so he was really an important kind of character in my life, as ridiculous as that sounds. Although I will say now that, you know, I know. One reason podcasting is so popular now, I realize, is because of what psychologists call the parasocial element. People feel they know you, Debbie, because they hear you and they don't know you, but they have a relationship with you. And, you know, that's a very powerful thing. So I had this very powerful parasocial relationship with Franco Harris. Then years later, so I was in my late 20s, maybe early 30s. I was at the New York Times. I maybe just published her, getting ready to publish my first book, which was this memoir about my family. And I was walking by a newsstand in Times Square, and I saw Franco's face, along with Lydell Mitchell, his Penn State backfield mate who played pro for the Baltimore Colts. They were on the COVID of this magazine called Black Enterprise magazine, and they were in business together in, like, an industrial food business. And I thought, oh, my gosh, I hadn't thought about Franco in 10, 15, 20 years. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder how he came out. And so when I read this article, I thought, well, he came out well, he's doing well. But, you know, another fascination of mine was the afterlife of the professional athlete. When you're a sports fan and you watch these people, you're seeing their life just through a tiny, tiny, tiny piece of a keyhole, and you don't know what their life is. You don't really know who they are. You don't know what they were really before and after. So I thought it would be a really good. Interesting story to write, would be to follow up with my childhood hero and write about the afterlife of the professional athlete and see what that life was like. So I wrote him this letter. He called me. We talked it through. He sounded, you know, Franco was just a little bit of a. He was just his own guy. He wasn't. He was very nice, but always a little bit. There was always just a little bit of distance there somehow. Very good man. He did a lot of good things for a lot of good causes and so on, but he wasn't the kind of guy who's going to say, hey, come on down, and, you know, you stay at my house, we'll talk for hours. It was a little bit trickier than that. But he did Say, come to Pittsburgh. I'll pick you up at the airport. So I do that. He picks me up at the airport. We walk by in the Pittsburgh airport, these two kind of statues that they have there. One is young George Washington, who I believe did some of his surveying work in Pittsburgh. And the other was Franco Harris, making the Immaculate Reception, the most famous play in Pittsburgh Steelers history. And it's kind of cool to walk by the Franco Harris statue with Franco Harris when he picks you up. And so we spent the better part of a day and a half or something like that together. And I just described this idea. I'd like to hang around. I'm a reporter. I'm a writer. You hang around. And I said, what do you think of that? And he said, well, can you sell? And I'm like, what do you mean? He's like, well, you know, I'm running this business. Like, most of my work is like, I'm going places. I'm going to schools, prisons, whatever. I'm trying to sell them my line of nutritional baked goods. So he was kind of serious about that. And I'm like, no, I can't sell, but I'll. I'll follow you around and write down everything that happens, and I'll write a book about it. And he wasn't really that into that. So we went back and forth. There was another time I was supposed to visit him in Pittsburgh. Packed up my car, drove down. I had all my files, got a motel for, like, 10 days, and he left town without telling me. So there was that. There was a lot of back and forth like that. Anyway, I did publish the book. He invited me that year. The year the book came out, he invited me to the. He. Every year at the super bowl, he would throw a party. Kind of a business opportunity for him because he had all these clients, and he invited me to that. But he always kept me a little bit at arm's length. And then a couple years ago, they were celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Immaculate Reception in Pittsburgh. And it was a game late in the season. I think it was December, I wanna say. Maybe it was against the Raiders, probably. Cause that's who the play happened against originally. My son Solomon, by now, has been a Pittsburgh Steelers fan since he was a kid because of me. So we were going down, and then I got invited to. Franco's family and friends were having a party on the side to celebrate this, and I got invited to that. And I thought, oh, that's nice. You know, maybe there's been some Passage of time since the book, and maybe they're feeling. He's feeling a little bit more sanguine about it, whatever. And then a couple days after that, the invitation was revoked. I'm not quite sure by who. I don't think Franco was involved at all in any of this. It was. You know, I think it was people who. People who defended him who felt that I had given him a little bit short shrift somehow in the book. And I'm not sure they're wrong. I'd have to go back and read it. I try never to be ungenerous as a writer, but I always try to be pretty honest. And, you know when your hero says he's gonna let you into his world and he kind of doesn't show up repeatedly, and you write it down, I guess it makes him look bad, whatever. But then after I'd been invited and uninvited, then he died, like in those days, between the uninvitation and the actual event. And so my son and I were already. You know, we were already planning to go to the game, and we went down. It was just very, very sad. On the other hand, when family and friends got up to toast him at the game itself, like, during halftime, it was just a reminder. He was really. He was awesome. I loved him. I loved him deeply. I wish he would. I wish he'd loved me back a little bit more. But if I were him, I think he played it just right.