We all tend to think that the way things are when we first become aware of them is the way things will always be. I supported Richard Nixon in the ‘72 election, the first I was aware of, not because I knew anything about politics, but because he was the president. (And rumor had it McGovern was in favor of year-round schools.) Ali, in my mind, would always be the champ, AJ Foyt would always win the Indy 500. And Terry Bradshaw would always be the Steelers’ quarterback.
That sense of immutability was both confirmed and shaken near the end of the ‘83 season when, like Rocky Balboa getting off the canvas, Walt Frazier coming out of the locker room, Curt Schilling bleeding at the ankle, Bradshaw pulled out a victory over the Jets with a wounded wing that had just two more touchdown passes in it.