Oct. 13, 1999

by Pete LaFleur

Rocky Bleier holds the unique distinction of playing for two of the most talented teams in college and pro football history – at Notre Dame in the late 1960s and with the Pittsburgh Steelers during their 1970s dominance.

Bleier – who has spent the past 20 years as a motivational speaker, after overcoming a major injury in the Vietnam War to succeed at the highest level in the National Football League – also was present for two of the most famous moments in football at any level.

He was there for the highly-anticipated game between Notre Dame and Michigan State in 1966 that ended in a 10-10 tie and helped the top-ranked Irish claim the national championship.

Bleier was a starting right halfback on that 1966 team, but shifted to left halfback against Michigan State in place of injured All-American Nick Eddy. Bob Gladieux took Bleier’s spot at right halfback and ended up catching a 20-yard-pass for Notre Dame’s only touchdown and the final points.

“All week long, I practiced that play,” recalls Bleier. “The right halfback went in at close formation, in a flanker position. We put that play in for Michigan State’s defense. As it turned out, Bobby made a great catch and gained some fame. But for all of us, it was a huge game. It was rare to have a No. 1 vs. No. 2 game with the national championship on the line.”

Despite a 1966 roster that included 12 All-Americans, Bleier singles out a relative unknown as his personal hero from that game.

“The most courageous guy on the field was backup center Tim Monty,” says Bleier. “He came in when our All-American George Goeddeke was hurt in the second quarter and Michigan State then moved Bubba Smith to nose guard. So here was this awesome, 280-pound lineman and Tim was just 215 pounds. But, he fought and clawed and held on. He never let Bubba penetrate.”

Six years later, Bleier was on hand for another moment that has been replayed countless times: the amazing catch and run by Pittsburgh running back Franco Harris to snatch victory away from the Oakland Raiders in the 1972 NFL playoffs – a play known simply as “the immaculate reception.”

Oakland had surged ahead in the final minute and Pittsburgh’s Terry Bradshaw then threw three incompletions from the Steelers’ 30-yard line.

“It was fourth and 10 … but it might as well have been fourth and 70 because we needed a touchdown and there wasn’t much time left,” recalls Bleier.

Bradshaw fired the ball towards midfield on the next play and an awkward collision between receiver Frenchy Fuqua and Raider defensive back Jack Tatum occurred just as the ball arrived. The ball kicked back towards the line of scrimmage and the trailing Harris made a fingertip grab before racing the final 50-plus yards.

“There must be 316,000 people who say they saw that play live, but human nature hates disaster and the majority could not bear to watch,” says Bleier. “I turned my back. Missed the whole thing. All of a sudden people were yelling and we were running down the field.”

That one play jumpstarted a franchise that had suffered 40 years of futility while taking on the ambiance of its city.

“People always used to say, ‘Same old Steelers … wait until next year’ and that’s what they would have said if we lost,” says Bleier. “The city of Pittsburgh also took on that aura. A city of steel mills, gray skies … and a losing football team. But that all changed.”

It wasn’t until 10 years later that Bleier asked Harris what was going through his mind prior to the catch. “Franco had been taught that whenever a ball is thrown, you break to the ball,” says Bleier. “Most guys would have just watched, but he went out and made one of the greatest plays you’ll ever see.”

Bleier credits the Steelers with giving him several chances at locking up a roster spot, which he did prior to the 1972 season after spending the previous two years on the inactive list. He rededicated himself to becoming an effective pro player, building up his 220-pound body to the point where he could bench press 460 pounds. Ultimately, the future motivational speaker had to motivate himself or his football career would be over. “I was not going to fail because of lack of effort,” he says.

As things turned out, Bleier became part of a dynasty that won four Super Bowls and produced eight NFL Hall of Famers.

Bleier grew up in Appleton, Wis., with his knowledge of Notre Dame limited to Sunday replays of football games and the movie Knute Rockne All-American, “which was mandatory viewing for Catholic school boys,” he says. “The only thing I knew about Notre Dame was that it was in South Bend. But when I visited the campus and met the people, I knew this place was for me.”

Bleier suffered major leg injuries in Vietnam and returned to American soil in August of 1969. Two months later, he was back at Notre Dame visiting with old friends, stopping by the Grotto (his favorite campus spot) and speaking at one of the final football pep rally held in the old Notre Dame Fieldhouse.

Like all of those who played for Ara Parseghian, Bleier credits the Irish coaching legend with impacting his life.

Bleier first ventured into the speaking circuit as a player with the Steelers but embarked on a career in investment banking and sports broadcasting when his playing days ended in 1979. Still, calls kept coming for speaking engagements.

Bleier has lived in Pittsburgh since 1968 and has seen the city go through its ups and downs-providing plenty of material for his motivational talks.

“The best thing about speaking is contact with the people,” Bleier explains. “If you can make a difference in someone else’s life, it’s time well spent.”

When asked how he keeps himself inspired, Bleier repeats the question: “Who and what motivates the motivator? I talk about my experience and about universal lessons. But when you get a letter or phone call from people who were impacted by hearing you speak, that’s all the motivation you need.”