Editor's Note: Craig Wolfley's memoirs of his days with the Steelers, from playing in the 1980s to broadcasting throughout the last two decades, is now available at Amazon.com, as well as all local Barnes & Noble bookstores and top independent booksellers in the Pittsburgh area.
*An earlier media copy can be purchased by hitting the "contact" button at JimWexell.com. I'll autograph the book and make a personal inscription if you ask for one. The contact button sends me an email and we can align addresses and payment.*
The following review originally appeared in a recent edition of Steelers Digest. Thanks to Bob Labriola for permission.
The late Craig Wolfley's memoirs were released Nov. 4 in the book titled If These Walls Could Talk: Stories from the Pittsburgh Steelers Sideline, Locker Room, and Press Box.
The early reviews, from the perspective of those whose opinions are dear to me, are extremely positive. It was with great pride that I took in raves from Craig's last radio partner, Max Starks, and Craig's oldest son, Kyle.
"Wolf's voice just jumps off the page," Starks told me. He said he couldn't wait to get back home to read the rest.
"This is truly a treasure, to have these stories to remember him by," he added before thanking me as if I'd written something worthwhile in these pages.
No, this was all Wolf. My job was to just stay out of the way.
Wolfley's writing skills first became apparent to me some 20 years ago when he sent me essays of his time with the Steelers in the 1980s. I was so impressed I hired him to write for my website.
Craig was no dumb jock. The kid from Syracuse could not only play offensive guard, he could write. And he never even attended the fabled Newhouse School of Broadcasting.
"Wolf's hardest subject was geography," the late Tunch Ilkin teased. "He couldn't find his class."
"I can't deny any of that," Wolfley wrote. "I came up four credit hours short of graduating."
That honesty probably plagued Wolfley in his journalistic quest, but it was the anchor of his character and a big reason we all loved the man.
That's not the reason I hired him, though. He could write, and my readers found that out every week. He wrote with a positive attitude but it certainly wasn't Pollyanna-ish. No, Wolf was critical in the way that your favorite teacher, or coach, or brother was critical – with a pat on the back while explaining what you need to become great.
That attitude was Wolf's greatness, and it drips off these pages.
In fact, after the Steelers lost to the Seahawks this season, and followed with a struggle in New England, I missed that positive outlook. It buffered me, as an editor, before braving social media's excessive negativity.
I found that I needed my dose of Wolfley.
And now we all have it, thanks to a call from Triumph Publishing, which asked if I had any ideas for a book by a Steelers lifer.
Wolfley was the easy answer for me, especially since I knew he could write. So we all agreed on a March 10, 2025, deadline and Wolfley began sending chapters. Since the 2024 season was ongoing, I didn't open any of his email attachments until the following January. And when I finally opened them, I was shocked. This book was darn near done. There would be no ghost-writing required.
The writing was rich. He wrote about visiting "The Rockpile," War Memorial Stadium in Buffalo, to see his first NFL game at age of 12 and how, and why, he fell in love with the game. He wrote about lifting weights as a teen with former Giants nose tackle Jim Burt under the guidance of Don Reinhoudt, renowned as the World's Strongest Man, and how too much weight almost toppled all three of them. He wrote about the high school fundamentals and college coaching that laid his foundation. He wrote about nutrition, hydration, and other key points to be embraced by all young athletes. He wrote about his first practice, his first play, his wonderment at the great Mel Blount planting a receiver right in front of him. He wrote about Lambert, Greene, "Webbie," Kolb, Franco, Rocky, Ham, all of them.
I will leave to you the story of his punching of Chuck Noll in the mouth the first time they met, but I will spoil here the story about how Wolfley eyeballed the great Jack Ham back on a 1980 practice field.
A play was called for Wolfley, a rookie, to pull right, where the future Hall of Famer would be waiting.
"I eyeballed the Hammer from across the line of scrimmage as we stood in the huddle," Wolfley wrote. "I had deep respect for his ability. But I also thought that by now, in his 10th year, I had an opportunity. I mean, if you only saw his gray beard, even you might think you had a chance. I looked over at him, practically licking my lips. Whipping a future Hall of Famer by crushing him in a half-line drill was a sure way to get noticed. And I intended to get noticed.
"At the snap of the ball, I exploded out of my stance. Pulling to my right, I whipped my right arm back in a shoulder-turning maneuver I had practiced seemingly all my life. I was running down the line of scrimmage like a runaway train toward the six hole, filled with bad intentions and thoughts of self-aggrandizement after blowing up the great Hammer. ... It was at about this point that the whole "hunting down my prey" thing went sideways. Literally. Nobody showed as I pulled and approached the end of the line. Just as I arrived at the six hole, there was a flash, a bang, and a bounce – in that order – and from where Jack Ham came, to this day, I do not know."
You might be able to guess the rest, and the reactions of the prone pulling guard along with the sly smile of the Hall of Fame linebacker, but I'll leave the ending to you.
There's more of that on LC Greenwood through Alan Faneca, Ramon Foster, Maurkice Pouncey, and Ben Roethlisberger.
I'm finding that this summary pales in comparison to Wolf's 45 years of Steelers insider knowledge, but I can tell you that my favorite chapter was a piece of artistic majesty about Wolf flashing back to his son Kyle – a West Point-trained Army Ranger – while meeting Robert O'Neill (Osama Bin Laden's killer) in an elevator. The chapter is masterfully crafted. So is the chapter on Wolf's little girl Megan at a zoo in West Virginia, where his brothers Ronnie and Dale played college ball.
These stories were an easy edit for me, and thanks to Craig's diligence, we had everything we needed except a foreword, an afterword, a few supplemental lists, and an acknowledgements chapter.
However, Craig became ill in February. Twenty days later, on March 10, an aggressive cancer took his life.
Yes, March 10 was the book deadline, too, so I can't help but believe this book was destined to be written, and that's how I wanted it treated. So I reached out to his widow, Faith, and she helped with the finishing touches. We decided she would write the acknowledgements, brother Ronnie would write the foreword, son C.J. would handle the lists, and son Kyle would write the afterword.
It all came together, with sadness, of course, but in dealing with this family, you're dealing with profound exceptionalism along with modest pride. So it comes with my own sense of not-so-modest pride that I received this text from Kyle after he had read an advance copy:
"Can't thank you enough for editing and seeing my dad's book through to its completion. The language is so vivid and I experienced all the emotions. Laughter and tears were ever-present as I made my way through his stories I remember hearing as a child. It's truly a treasure!"