When Chicago Bears teammates Gail Sayers and Brian Piccolo became roommates in 1967, the first time NFL players of various colors shared the convenience of being on the road, it hardly seemed like a good fit.
Cyrus, at the time, was already an established star, a soft-spoken black man who raised his voice only when matters of social justice were discussed. Piccolo, the same age, was white, an indivisible speaker and joker, competing with the Sears to play time on the gas-day roster after being baffled by a taxi crew and backfield.
But the lasting friendship between the two became the subject of ‘Bryans Song’, made by the 1971 TV movie, one of the most popular sports movies ever. Following the announcement of Cyrus’ death at the age of 77, it hardly resonates much on Wednesday.
“It just surprises me,” Joy Piccolo O’Connell said in an interview at his Wisconsin home. “That was 50 years ago.”
The two rose to prominence in 1968, when Piccolo unselfishly attempted to come first out of several knee injuries that eventually shortened his career. When Piccolo was diagnosed with late-stage testicular cancer the following year, Sears inappropriately sided with him.
George S. of the League by Cyrus in 1970. After receiving the Halas Rage Award and giving a speech that became the focus of the film, Piccolo lost his battle with the disease in 1970.
“He has a huge heart and a rare form of courage that allows him to have a child with himself and his opponent – cancer,” Sears said at the awards dinner, a scene from actor Billy de Williams’ ABC movie.
“It simply came to our notice then that I was proud to be able to spell the word ‘courage’ 24 hours a day, every day of my life. You make me happy by giving me this award, but I tell you I accept it for Brian Piccolo. It’s Mari tonight, it’s Brian Piccolo tomorrow. … I love Brian Piccolo, and I love you all too. Tonight, when you get on your knees, “Cyrus concluded,” please ask God to love. “
Williams tweeted on Wednesday: “My heart is broken at the loss of my dear friend Gail Sayers. It was a real honor to portray Gela in Brian’s song and one of the nightlights of my career. He was an extraordinary man with a compassionate heart. ”
In 1967, hotel-room assignments were usually made by position and running back was the only slot on the Bears team where players of different colors were thrown together. But the general manager at the time, Ed M. Cakesky, a member of the Halas family who ran the club, blessed the move – and for good reason.
As a senior in Wake Forest, in the 1963 game against Maryland, Piccolo Terpins walked to the sidelines and Maryland was run back by the only black player in the league at the time – Darrell Hill – with him at the front of the student division. He then silenced the crowd and threw his hand over Hill’s shoulder.
But Joey Piccolo O’Connell, who is remarried, thinks the biggest obstacle in the friendship between Piccolo and Cyrus was to do more with personality than color.
He said, “Brian liked to be with people, liked to talk and couldn’t do enough to speak in public, and Gail was very quiet.”
Indeed, Sears said in a 2001 interview that Piccolo’s constant jokes have already left him. Piccole, likewise, told biographer Jenny Morris that he thought Sayers was “arrogant… I didn’t see him talking to the spirit we’ve been with all week.”
From this rocky start, Sayers and Piccolo formed a strong bond for weather injury and illness and pushed back against the lazy assumption that men of different colors, different backgrounds, and not caring for each other like brothers.
Piccolo O’Connell said, “They showed the film the other night, and we will inquire through the (Piccolo) Foundation.”
“But it’s amazing,” he concluded. “How the story goes on and on.”
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Chicago-based AP writer Don Babbin contributed to the report.
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