Bob Smizik: Enough to Silence His One of a Kind Voice

Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

As befitting so momentous an occasion, eight television cameras lined the back of the Steelers' media room, almost going wall to wall. In front of them, 30 or so men and women, armed with notebooks, pens and tape recorders, stood poised to chronicle what they had been all but promised was a major news event.

The making of this monster media scene began about 18 hours earlier when the Steelers quietly sent out word they would have an announcement of serious import the next morning.

Literally within minutes, speculation within the media was out of control. Included among the more obvious scenarios worth investigating were:
The long-awaited signing of Hines Ward.
The coming to terms of No. 1 draft choice Heath Miller.

By early evening, serious reporting proved that neither of those were the story in question. Which meant the speculation took a giant step forward to these fairly far-fetched scenarios:
Dan Rooney was retiring.
Jerome Bettis was retiring.
The Rooney family was selling the team.

By 11 a.m. yesterday, no one knew anything, which is almost unheard of when there is nearly a full day to work a story.

At which point, a short, balding, pot-bellied man with a gnarled ear walked into the media room, and in an instant everyone knew.

This was bigger than Hines Ward, bigger than Heath Miller.

The word legend is tossed around much too casually in the sports business. It's often used to describe men whose accomplishments don't begin to merit it. But this was one time where the word fit. So did all the cliches.

A legend in his own time was retiring, and this truly was the end of an era.

Myron Cope, the most recognizable man in Pittsburgh and probably the most popular, was taking the final step in a series of cutbacks in his working life that began with the closing down of his famously successful, extraordinarily entertaining, one-of-a-kind talk show in April 1995. He was retiring as color analyst for the Steelers, a position he had held since 1970 and was his last link to an adoring public.


This was the end, and truth be known it was time -- a point Cope did not attempt to hide.
He easily could have cited ill health. His voice was a raspy whisper yesterday, barely audible. His inability to hear, always a shortcoming, obviously was more pronounced. He also has been beset with a multitude of injuries and illnesses which, for a time, deprived him of the rich quality of life he loved so much.

But he was confident he would regain his voice and his health in time to broadcast another season.
What he could not regain was his competence.

Cope had a long-standing agreement with Joe Gordon, the former Steelers public relations boss and his good friend. If Cope was slipping, Gordon should tell him.
It was a task that could challenge any friendship and one Gordon did not relish.

Instead of citing Cope's competence, Gordon urged his friend to retire for the sake of his health.
Gordon said, "When I tried to persuade him to give it up because it was too much of a burden, he said, `My voice will come back and I can get better.' "

A few days later, June 10, Gordon told Cope the truth. He wasn't his old self. He was making too many mistakes, mistakes he had never made in the past.

That's all Cope needed to hear. He knew it was time. There was nothing to think about. If Gordon had said it, it must be true.
He also knew it wouldn't be easy.
"It's my whole life," Cope told Gordon.

"It was my whole life and it was Chuck [Noll's] whole life, too," answered Gordon.

"You'll get another life."

The first day of that life began yesterday.
Cope likes nothing better than being the center of attention, but that might have been particularly so yesterday because it could have been for the final time. This was his chance to officially and formally say goodbye to the millions he had entertained over the years and to whom he was the main link to their team.

Befitting the old-school gentleman he is, he came immaculately attired in a Seersucker sport coat, dark slacks and shoes, a white shirt and a blue tie with faint design.
Art Rooney II was there representing the Steelers and his dad, Dan, was on the phone from Ireland wishing his best.

Cope, despite the voice, was his usual sharp self. If he has slowed in the broadcasting booth -- and he acknowledged as much -- he remains a master on his feet. It was always a strength and it still remains one.

Since he was sitting where Bill Cowher usually sits for his news conferences, Cope drew a laugh by imitating the coach at those sessions. "Jerome with a quad; he's probable."
He also had a word for the Steelers' motorcycle-riding quarterback.
"Ben with a cracked head. He's out."

He later pleaded with quarterbacks Ben Roethlisberger and Tommy Maddox to give up their motorcycle riding for the sake of their teammates.

It's well known, despite his immense success in broadcasting, that Cope's passion has been his writing. It's what he always wanted to do, what he was educated and trained to do and what he did so brilliantly in the 1950s and '60s.

"That's what I had a gift for. I'd like to be remembered as a pretty decent writer," he said.

Then he told a story -- which he admitted was boastful -- about the time he went to his boss at Sports Illustrated, where he did free-lance work under contract, and asked for a raise.
"I was told I already made as much as any of the contract writers, and that included George Plimpton."

It's true, he was up there with them all, even the widely acclaimed Plimpton, a darling of the literary set and a best-selling author.

That was a lifetime ago. He chose another path, one he might have found somewhat less fulfilling but one that was so much more enriching for Steelers fans throughout the region and across the country.

(Bob Smizik can be reached at bsmizik@post-gazette.com.)

Yoi!

Myron Cope never gained a yard nor scored a touchdown in his 35 years doing Steelers games. Yet his Steelers numbers are unparalleled. Consider that he worked:

54.6: Percent of all Steelers games played in the franchise's 72-year history (561 of 1,027).
64.1: Percent of all Steelers victories (326).
75: Percent of all winning seasons in franchise history (24 of 32).
97.6: Percent of all Steelers postseason games (40 of 41). The Steelers made one postseason appearance prior to 1970, losing to Detroit, 17-10, in the 1962 Playoff Bowl.
326: Steelers victories in 35 years, giving him a winning percentage of .580.
FYI: His first game in the booth was Sept. 20, 1970 -- a 19-7 loss to the Oilers. His final game was Jan. 23, 2005 -- a 41-27 loss to the Patriots in the AFC championship.