Read from the Introduction of Rooney: A Sporting Life by Rob Ruck, Maggie Jones Patterson, and Michael P. Weber:

"As writers in the press box composed their epitaphs for the Pittsburgh Steelers, Art Rooney stood and headed to the elevator. Pittsburgh had won its first division title in forty years that season, but Rooney’s Steelers were losing 7–6, and only 22 seconds remained in their playoff game against the Oakland Raiders. Facing fourth-and-ten from their own 40 yard line, they needed to gain 25 yards to get within field goal range. Pirates announcer Bob Prince held the elevator door for Art, two priests, and a friend. Art said nothing as the elevator slowly descended. “I figured we had lost,” he later explained, “and I wanted to get to the locker room early so I could personally thank the players for the fine job they’d done all season.”

On the field, quarterback Terry Bradshaw had one last chance. Coach Chuck Noll called a play designed to hit rookie receiver Barry Pearson down the middle and put Pittsburgh in field goal range. Bradshaw dropped back to pass under a heavy rush. A Raider grabbed him around his shoulders, but he twisted free. Steeler halfback Frenchy Fuqua curled into the center of the field, deep enough to give Roy Gerela a shot at a field goal if the pass could be completed, and the game clock stopped by quickly downing the football. But another Raider lurched toward Bradshaw and he was forced to unload the ball. “I saw Frenchy and I didn’t see anyone around. Then I don’t know what happened,” Bradshaw said. “I got knocked down.”

The football, Frenchy Fuqua, and defensive back Jack Tatum converged at Oakland’s 35-yard line. The ball bounced off Fuqua or Tatum or both and ricocheted backward. Fuqua, who had not seen Tatum coming, fell to the turf, dazed. “He gave me a good lick. Everything was dizzy.” But then Fuqua looked downfield in disbelief. “I saw this dude at the 5-yard line and I couldn’t figure out why.” The dude—teammate Franco Harris—had caught the deflected football at his shoe tops and was crossing the goal line.

By midnight the play had a name: the Immaculate Reception.

Art saw none of it. He was inside the elevator grappling with what he would tell his players when the stadium reverberated. “We heard a wild scream from the crowd,” Art said. “It could only mean one thing but no one in the elevator dared believe it.” He had waited a long time for this moment, only to miss it."

Rob Ruck is a senior lecturer of history at the University of Pittsburgh and the author of The Tropic of Baseball, available in a Bison Books edition. Maggie Jones Patterson is an associate professor of journalism at Duquesne University and coauthor of Behind the Lines: Case Studies in Investigative Reporting. Michael P. Weber (1936–2001) is the author of Don’t Call Me Boss: David L. Lawrence, Pittsburgh’s Renaissance Mayor.

To read a longer excerpt or to purchase Rooney, visit http://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/product/Rooney,674167.aspx.