On a shelf in my home is a football bearing the logo of the Pittsburgh Steelers. It also bears a simple autograph: “Franco Harris 32.”

I must openly admit I committed a grave sin of professional journalism in getting that ball autographed many years ago. It was the only time in my career that I’ve done that.

The legendary Pittsburgh Steelers running back, along with his counterpart Jim Brown from division rival Cleveland Browns, paid a rare visit together to a Warren Steelworkers Union Hall on a rainy Saturday morning several years ago. They were stumping as part of a political campaign.

I wasn’t the politics writer, nor was I a sportswriter. But I was a lifelong Steeler fan who, for more than a decade in my young life, had watched Franco Harris every Sunday afternoon from the living room couch with my Dad.

According to promotional materials for that Warren political event, Harris and Brown were expected to wrap up the rally by signing autographs for those in attendance.

Now, we are taught as journalists not to be biased, not to be fans, and never, ever to ask for autographs.

But I justify this situation because after the hall of famer was done speaking and after I was done covering the event, I simply fell in line with the rest of the fans. Plus it was FRANCO!

To be honest, this week I have a hard time apologizing.

The NFL hall of famer’s iconic play that has come to be known as the “Immaculate Reception” occurred 50 years ago Friday. That was the pinnacle moment in the Steelers first-ever playoff game victory in which they faced the Oakland Raiders. The miraculous catch and touchdown has been described by many football experts as the greatest play in the history of the NFL. It also is hugely significant to Steeler nation because in that moment, the team somehow transformed from 40 years of loveable losers into the dynasty that they became, winning four Super Bowls in the 1970s.

As the 50th anniversary date approached, the PR-savvy NFL cleverly found a way to capitalize on the situation by scheduling a rematch game between the Raiders and Steelers for this very weekend. Steeler fans everywhere waited with great anticipation for Saturday’s game because Harris was scheduled to appear on the field at halftime when his #32 jersey was to be retired — only the third number ever to receive that honor by the Steelers.

Then, tragedy struck.

Harris died unexpectedly Wednesday morning at age 72.

The city of Pittsburgh and football fans everywhere mourn the loss of this legend.

Since Wednesday, Harris’ former teammates have shared anecdote after anecdote. Sportwriters have written about the football player — and the person — they knew and covered.

Through every interview and article I’ve read, everyone has spoken of Harris’ athleticism, work ethic and sportsmanship. But more than that, all who knew him have spoken of his graciousness and generosity for the southwestern Pennsylvania city that this New Jersey native continued to call home, even after his incredible career ended.

“I just admire and love the man,” Steelers Coach Mike Tomlin said. “There’s so much to be learned from him in terms of how he conducted himself, how he embraced the responsibilities of being Franco for Steeler Nation, for this community … He embraced it all and did it with such grace and class and patience and time for people.”

From my very brief encounter with the legend on that rainy Saturday morning, that’s exactly what stands out most to me. Long after fellow NFL hall of famer Jim Brown had called it a day and left the table where fans waited in line, Harris remained, graciously signing autographs and ensuring everyone had an opportunity.

I stop and study the Harris statue depicting the Immaculate Reception each time I pass it in the Pittsburgh Airport. And of course, I’ve admired his bronze bust at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton.

But the day I shook his hand and got my football autographed is the only time I ever was in his presence. And Harris’ legendary status was apparent, not because he was a hall of famer, but because he was gracious and kind.

blinert@tribtoday.com