Rooney never lost “common man touch”

Associated Press

PITTSBURGH

Dan Rooney’s priorities were always clear. Family. Football. Faith. Ireland.

It’s the order they came in for the longtime Pittsburgh Steelers president and chairman, however, that occasionally became blurry. Often in the best way possible.

The evidence could be found in the pews at St. Paul’s Cathedral on Tuesday, a cross section of a singular life that stretched far beyond his native city, yet never seemed to stray from its roots.

The 90-minute funeral celebrating Rooney, who died at 84 last Thursday, offered a glimpse into a man who turned a moribund franchise into a dynasty; helped refine the vision of the modern NFL; and attempted to ease regional tensions as U.S. ambassador to Ireland. All the while remaining the guy from Pittsburgh’s North Side neighborhood simply known as “Dan.”

“He was a Pittsburgher,” Cardinal Donald Wuerl said. “He was the best of us.”

To the right in the massive sanctuary sat hundreds of current and ex-players — from Hall of Famers Joe Greene and Franco Harris to current stars Ben Roethlisberger and Antonio Brown to alums whose careers were far more modest — that Rooney treated as surrogate sons and grandsons. In the middle sat NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell and his predecessor, Paul Tagliabue, men who relied heavily on Rooney’s counsel. Down in front sat good friend and former President Barack Obama and Secretary of State John Kerry, there to pay tribute to Rooney’s legacy and offer comfort to his wife Patricia, son Art II and the rest of what is considered the city’s first family.

Scattered throughout were friends, well-wishers and strangers just off the street who filled the crowded sanctuary to say goodbye.

“He never lost the common man touch,” Wuerl said.

The Steelers captured four Super Bowls during a six-season stretch from 1974-1979, with Rooney working in the background. Meanwhile, the men who played for him became legends, men Rooney made it a point to get to know on a personal level regardless of profile, talent, stature or background.

The proof came in one member of the organization who served as a pallbearer.

Ike Taylor grew up in Louisiana, the black son of a single mother. Taylor never stepped foot in Pittsburgh until the team selected him in the fourth round of the 2003 draft. That didn’t stop Taylor from developing a deep relationship with the man he called “Pops.”