Remembering Craig Wolfley
I’ll never forget when I first met Craig Wolfley.
I’ll never forget when I first met Craig Wolfley.
I used to joke that we both came into the NFL at the same time.
No, I never played for the Steelers or any other NFL team. But it was 1980 and I was at Steelers training camp in Latrobe for the first time as a professional sports writer.
I went there wide-eyed and wondering what kind of story I would get, how would I talk to any of the players with Super Bowl rings.
After all, these were the Steelers that had Terry Bradshaw, Joe Greene, Franco Harris, Jack Lambert, Mike Webster and others walking around in the dressing room.
My meeting of Wolf was pure luck in 1980. I didn’t even know who he was during his rookie camp.
As I walked around St. Vincent, I saw two people walking around wearing Steelers game jerseys with his name and number 73 on the back. I still remember his dad with that shiny bald head gleaming in the Latrobe sun.
I walked up to them and introduced myself and they told me they were in camp because their son was trying to make the team.
We talked for a little bit and they asked if I wanted to meet their son. They said they were going to see him after practice and before lunch.
And I figured, why not? That was the beginning of a friendship that blossomed in the early years of his career when I would still be going into the dressing room after Sunday games.
Over the years, with our careers going in different directions, our contact was mostly on Facebook.
But I’m thinking about those early years after getting the shocking word Monday morning of his passing at the age of 66.
Hell, that’s how old I am. I still remember how much fun it was going into that locker room in the early 80s. I walked past the lockers of future hall of famers to get to the lockers for Wolfley and his friend, Tunch Ilkin sat.
Ironically, I also got to know Ilkin earlier during his playing days at Indiana State, where he played with two of my childhood friends, Terry Dzimiera and Reggie Allen.
Wolf and Tunch were two similar people back then. Both were very friendly, very welcoming and strong in their faith.
It didn’t surprise me that after their playing days they continued their partnership as analysts for the Steelers.
The first thing that Wolf did for me was change my sentiments on what pro athletes were like.
Most athletes I came into contact with were aloof, entitled, private and even condescending.
None of those words described Wolf.
I always felt special when I would approach him on that dressing room stall, whether after a win or loss, he would greet me and extend his hand.
He was exactly in life as he seemed on television. There was no public fake persona when it came to him. What you saw was what you got with him.
I remember when he gave me his home phone number back then and I thought how special am I? I couldn’t even imagine getting the phone number of Bradshaw, Greene, Mel Blount or any of those guys.
The few times I was brave enough to call him at home, I enjoyed our chats. He never made me feel like I was bothering him or holding him up.
He was such a giving man who back then was so proud of his brother, Ron, who played at West Virginia University and later also played in the NFL.
I was in my early 20s. I was more fan than sports writer, to be honest. And I was buddies with a Pittsburgh Steeler.
I never looked forward to seeing all those stars in the dressing room or getting a glimpse of Chuck Noll. It was all about seeing Wolf and Tunch.
That’s the kind of impression he made on me.
He had so much on his plate trying to make the team and then holding on to his starting job.
Why bother with some young writer from a small newspaper he had never heard of?
Yet, he always had time for me. That meant the world to me.
I’m still in shock about his passing. I didn’t know he was sick. I guess at this point, I took a lot for granted in our relationship.
But I’m glad I saw his folks that hot day in Latrobe. It was a chance meeting that I’ve never forgotten. Just like I will never forget Craig Wolfley.
It’s ironic that such good friends like Wolf and Tunch, who played together, worked in the media together and now are reunited in heaven together at such young ages.
Craig Wolfley was another reason I was blessed to have the career I had. His friendship overshadowed pretty much anything else I experienced as a writer.
What a man. What an angel on earth. What an angel who has gone home.
Anyone with any thoughts, opposing views or comments on this column can reach Jeff Oliver by emailing justjto@verizon.net.
