Crossing paths with the Black & Gold

L.C. Greenwood - if by “crossed paths" with, you meant “trick-or-treated from”...then yes…I crossed paths with LC Greenwood once. It was either in the fall of ’87 or ’88, in the neighborhood of Point Breeze, a western suburb of Pittsburgh. With the advent of modern bulk box stores like BJs and Costco, it’s easy to be the baller of the block these days as you proudly hand-out full-size candy bars on the night of the 31st. But 35 years ago, you had to either be a Carnegie, a Frick or a member of the legendary Steel Curtain to exhibit such blatant Wonka-level treat-giving hubris. Luckily, this fellow Point Breezian and all-time Steelers defensive legend lived a short 6 blocks away from my house. And nothing travels faster through the kid-grapevine on all-Hallows Eve than news of a house giving out full candy bars. My recollection of this encounter is somewhat hazy but I still stand firm on its validity. I do remember knocking on the door of his gothic-industrial styled corner property. I also remember the door opening to reveal the unmistakably massive frame of the gridiron giant, holding an overflowing bowl of treats to greet me. It's easy to recall what I said to him as he stood there...because I absolutely forgot how to talk from that moment on. I couldn't even offer-up the customary "trick or treat" as I stood there hypnotized with my pillowcase opened as my mouth was. My only other flash memory was noticing how the regular Snickers looked like a fun-size bar in the lineman’s massive hands. Four bocks and 5 minutes later, I "came-to", marveling at the full-size candy bar now clutched my tiny hand as I walked home.

Franco Harris - As long as I’m tapping into my black & gold roots, I might as well bring this one up. The very first Boston Chicken, now Boston Market, in the greater Pittsburgh area opened in the summer of 1993 in the North Hills suburbs. The father of my then-girlfriend had a connection to the owner/investor of that initial franchise…and that gentleman had some connection to a certain HOF Steelers running-back Franco Harris, receiver of the immaculate and 1st-in-command of a mighty & proud Italian Army that bears his very name. Fast forward to the restaurant's celebratory opening day that found me adding pieces of corn bread to black plastic plates recently adorned with fresh, creamy mac-n-cheese, ladled-out expertly by THE Franco Harris. His involvement that day was wisely kept a secret from the employees. So the excitement and disbelief immediately felt as I was introduced to Mr. Harris and informed that he'd be working alongside me on my first shift was almost uncontainable. It was easily the best day I ever had working there and I couldn’t believe that I actually got paid to do it. Honestly, I would have gladly done it for free. I continued to work at Boston Chicken/Market for the next 2 summers when I’d come home from college. During my rotisserie chicken-related tenure there, I served-up white & dark meat alongside a variety of co-workers…but not s single one off them had over 12K career rushing yards and 4 Super Bowl rings. I haven’t worked in fast-food since those collegiate days…but if Jerome Bettis or Troy Polamalu were slated as a celebrity server for the soft-opening of a local franchise, I’d think about stopping by for an application. 

Lynn Swan - Ok…one last absolutely random Steeler encounter before I run the risk of a restraining order from the Rooneys. It was the mid-to-late aughts, and I had plans to meet my sister in the city for lunch. I took the LIRR from Babylon to Penn and hoofed it uptown to the neighborhood of 50th & 6th where her office was at the time. As I approached the building, I saw her already standing on the corner to meet me. We hugged hello and proceeded to walk west across town in our customary brisk gaits, avoiding foot-traffic, enrapt in our own world of conversation. The situation would make it easy for Santa himself to slip through my sidewalk scanning glances, possibly even rubbing shoulders as we passed. But that afternoon, my eyes locked and immediately identified the approaching all-pro wide-receiver walking straight towards me, darting through the sidewalk populace with purpose and grace like he was running a route to his destination. I instinctively executed my interceding move, breaking conversation with my sister mid-sentence and without warning, and stepped directly into his path. And to simultaneously avoid any vibes of being threat or a nut, I moved with an extended hand and offered my quick declarative statement of - “Mr. Swan?…I’m a lifetime Steelers fan…it’d be a honor to shake your hand.” He smiled at my fanatical confession, graciously thanked me for my support as he met my hand with his in a firm, confident handshake…and continued east, barely breaking stride and still moving with the grace of a gazelle. Baffled by the sheer coincidence of the circumstances, I stood frozen on the sidewalk looking down at my hand, trying to process what just happened. Thankfully, I was able to offer my sister a convincing enough explanation fast enough to avoid any future concerns that her brother is now accosting strangers in the city for handshakes.