by Reid Fitzsimons
I recently watched the 1971 made-for-TV movie Brian’s Song for the first time since 1971. It was amazing how I remembered scenes and even individual lines after 55 years. Brian was Brian Piccolo, an extroverted rookie running back with the Chicago Bears in the mid-60s, who became great friends with Gale Sayers, the soft-spoken and extraordinarily talented fellow rookie running back. The former was 2nd string, and the latter won awards and accolades. Piccolo was white with a trace of redneck while Sayers was black, and the movie was primarily about the deep relationship they developed. There was a lot of football itself and the love of playing it, as compared to the love of money and celebrity in the decades since.
It was a positive movie that took place during a time when Jim Crow was receding, and black and white people could indeed find not just racial tolerance, but go well beyond it: as Piccolo was hospitalized dying of cancer at the age of 26, Sayers had to attend an awards banquet, and as he received an award for bravery (overcoming a severe injury) he declared, “I love Brian Piccolo,” followed by clarifying who truly was brave. This was the movie that gave men permission to cry.