Thanks, Myron.

Voice of Steelers silenced

Dry your tears with a Terrible Towel. Steelers games will never be the same.

Myron Cope, 76, announced his retirement Tuesday after 35 years as the team's hyper-enthusiastic radio analyst and ever-present good-luck charm.
"You would have to say that, in the history of Steelers lore, he is certainly the voice of the organization," said former Steelers coach Chuck Noll, who led the team to four Super Bowl victories in the 1970s "There can be no question about that."

Cope has been battling health problems for several years, including persistent hoarseness for which he is receiving treatment, but it was a recent talk with close friend and retired team executive Joe Gordon that convinced him to call it quits.

"I had, many times, told (Gordon) that if he ever detected me slipping in the broadcast booth, losing a step, he should tell me and that I would retire," Cope said yesterday, through an extremely hoarse voice during a news conference at the Steelers' South Side headquarters. "So, he recently told me that at my home. I thought about it for about 10 seconds and said, 'I'm done.'"

Cope's legacy has a material form in the Terrible Towel, which he instituted in 1975 on a radio executive's request for a "gimmick" that would involve fans at the stadium.

It became the very symbol of the fans' psychic connection to their team.
In the booth, Cope carved his niche with a quick wit and a voice he once imagined as falling on the public's ears like "china crashing from shelves in an earthquake."

Steelers backers habitually would turn down the network telecast and turn up Cope, who excitedly peppered his stammering chatter with expressions such as "Yoi!" "Double Yoi!" and "Zounds!"

"He put the color in 'color analyst,'" said Steelers president Art Rooney II.
Cope's fondest memory and greatest regret derive from the same game, the "Immaculate Reception" playoff victory over the Oakland Raiders on Dec. 23, 1972, at Three Rivers Stadium.

Cope was in the end zone, not the radio booth, when Franco Harris reeled in a desperate, deflected pass and ran for the winning touchdown.

"I was in the stupid practice in those days of leaving the booth with two minutes to play because I had that locker-room show to do," Cope said. "I figured they wouldn't miss me in the last two minutes. Well, they didn't that day, because (late play-by-play man) Jack Fleming made a great call."


Forget your cookie-cutter talking haircuts. Give me a sports fan like Myron Cope any day.
Good luck, Myron, and enjoy your retirement. Steeler fans the world over are going to miss you.
YOI!