Football flights to forget

There is a notion among NFL fans that reporters who travel to cover football games have done so. When I worked at KDKA-TV in Pittsburgh during the 1980s, I traveled with both the Steelers and pain-engendered, one-year-old wonder, USFL Maulers. There were always people saying to me, "Wow, you have the most exciting job you've ever had. You can travel with the team, get into free games and see so many big cities." Yes, all those observations are true. But, let me tell you, we don't always fly friendly skies.

Now, it used to be that NFL owners in some major cities often paid airfare for local scribes, radio and television athletes, cameramen, and photographers to fly with the team. I don't think it was a totally altruistic gesture by management. They probably thought that his magnanimity would help ensure favorable reports.

The flights I took with the Steelers and Maulers were rented. What it does that have to do with anything? Well, there are only so many players that fill all the seats in a 727 or 737. And, after some of the remaining seats are filled with staff, sponsors and supporters, there is still a number left for the media. So, if you were a reporter (except for game-by-game and color announcers who always had seats), you would fly "Waiting State", sometimes not knowing if space was available until a couple of days before the game. .

Incidentally, there is a hierarchical order for the seats. The head coach always gets the first seat in the front. There is no "sandwich seat" for professional soccer players. The rule: there must be an empty seat between two soccer players. Do you need an extra seat? Find it somewhere beyond offense and defense. Oh, and the rest of us passengers? Packed like sardines.

Speaking of sandwich, that reminds me of the tradition started by Steelers head coach Chuck Noll on airplane flights. After each game, when the team and the rest of us boarded the plane, they would hand us a hoagie sandwich (some people call it "submarine"). And, if the team won, we all got a bonus, two cans of beer were dispensed to each of us entering the plane. Everyone was happy and it was a good flight home. But, if the team lost, Noll's rule, there are no beers for anyone. Since the team was already depressed by the loss, this move was certainly not the best option they needed. Wondering what motivated the Steelers to win all those great games and Super Bowls in the 70s? It was the thought of no beer. It had to be.

Still, you couldn't feel sorry for them. The huge hoagie was just a snack. A full meal was also served in flight. Yes, the great ones have a lot of appetite. I couldn't even finish the hoagie.

Turns out, big kids can be big babies, too. A couple of examples The last game of the Maulers' first and only season, June 22, 1984, was in Jacksonville. Several miles from Jacksonville, the plane encountered turbulent weather. Turbulent? It was a full-blown thunder storm. There was thunder and lightning around us. And every time thunder approached, the plane experienced a dramatic and sudden drop in altitude. It seemed like a thousand feet per hit. At one point you were drinking a drink, then trying to catch it, as the glass literally fell below the liquid. Things got so bad that the 300-pound linemen were crying and screaming, "God, please don't let us die." The head coach Ellis Rainsberger's son (ironically perfect name considering the circumstances), who was only about 12 years old, threw up.  บาร์เซโลน่า

Then there was the game on November 17, 1985 in which the Steelers flew to Houston to face the Oilers. It was a fantastic day for Mark Malone and Louis Lipps, who combined for three touchdowns, and the Steelers easily won 30-7. The flight home had only been so sweet. As we triumphantly rolled down the runway, accelerating rapidly to ascend, the pilot suddenly slammed on the brakes in an emergency, causing us all to stumble violently forward in our seats and then just as violently backwards against our seats. Once again, the wails, screams, and prayers of those giant gladiators on the grill permeated the plane. After the plane came to a complete stop, the pilot got into the microphone to say, "Sorry for the abrupt interruption of our takeoff, but a red engine warning light will not go out on our instrument panel.