Stan Savran, the legendary voice of reason in Pittsburgh sports for 50 years, died Monday in his beloved Pittsburgh at the age of 76.
Savran has struggled with the effects of cancer and diabetes for the past year.
A native of Cleveland, he came to Pittsburgh in the 1970s and became a fixture on television and radio in western Pennsylvania for six decades. During his stint as a sports presenter at WTAE (Channel 4), he made his mark and became a Pittsburgh icon co-hosting “SportsBeat” with colleague and friend Guy Junker.
He continued to work in television while hosting his daytime show on ESPN Radio until health issues forced his resignation earlier this year.
The Steelers, Penguins and Pirates immediately posted their tributes on Twitter.
Below, The Athletic’s Mark Kaboly, Rob Rossi and Josh Yohe share their memories of “the godfather” of the sport in Pittsburgh.
Rossi: After leaving West Virginia University in May 2000, I immediately began a summer internship, followed by a two-year internship at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. About eight months later, one of the editors offered me the opportunity to develop a daily site: a mix of aggregated short films, original features and some unusual concepts. I was too young for the responsibility, but somehow the site thrived and gained an audience.
So I was very surprised when, two months before my contract expired, the same editor informed me that I would not be hired full-time and that the site would be taken over by someone else.
Another editor, who wanted to help me get started somewhere else, organized a media tour for my last few weeks. He asked if there was a local show I wanted to appear on.
The question was easy to answer.
By August 2002, Savran was already a legendary figure in Pittsburgh. He was senior sports anchor for a local ABC affiliate. He had written columns for the newspaper. He hosted a talk show. He was the initiator of a cable television show called “SportsBeat,” which was televised as the opening act for the Pirates and Penguins games.
Most importantly to me, in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s, he enlightened an entire region about hockey by broadcasting interviews with the likes of Mario Lemieux, Paul Coffey, and countless other Penguins players over TV and radio into homes in the brought west of Pennsylvania. I knew I’d never be able to play like those guys, but I thought there might be a chance to do what Stan had done: be around the Penguins and share their ups, downs and personalities.
So I asked this editor, “Could I do Savran’s radio show?”
A week later I did. And despite his fame, he treated me as an equal and kindly wished me well.
That was the first of many on and off air conversations with Stan becoming a friend. We eventually became friends through a shared love of tennis and black-and-white movies, and I quickly learned that this Pittsburgh sports media legend was an even more legendary person: genuine, generous, dedicated, smart, funny, and so, so kind.
Over the past 15 years, Stan has become known as “the Godfather” of sports media in Pittsburgh. It was an appropriate nickname.
He is already missing. But he will never be forgotten.
Kaboly: I thought Savran was crazy…or at least a little silly.
I met him in the Steelers media room a few months ago. His health was deteriorating noticeably for everyone except maybe him. I would never pass up an opportunity to stop and talk to Stan, usually about sports.
But not this time.
I didn’t care if he thought Matt Canada would come back for another season or if general manager Omar Khan would put his stamp on the team in the offseason. I wanted to know how he was doing, how he was feeling – or, as I put it, “Are you holding up?” To a certain extent he complied, but the subject didn’t particularly interest him. Then he stopped, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’ll never retire. No way. Never.”
I shook my head and thought, “You’re crazy. If I were you, I’d be on an island somewhere.”
At the time I thought he was crazy. This was a guy who had done just about everything imaginable in the Pittsburgh media scene for almost half a century. He was struggling with more health issues than anyone could imagine, and he worried he could still spend two hours talking on the radio or being on the Steelers’ postgame show, which sometimes lasts well into the morning lasts.
I did not understand it. I really didn’t.
I keep thinking about our conversation with him over the past few days after the news broke that he had been placed in hospice care and it was only a matter of time (his words, not mine) before he left us, everything started to make sense.
While Stan broke through this business with talent, he also did it with determination, guts, and old-fashioned hard work.
That was Stan.
He loved sports, he loved work and he loved people. As a radio host, studio host, and local sports host, he was able to do everything he loved in one fell swoop. He just loved talking to anyone and everyone about sports, and he didn’t want to let cancer take that away from him. He wouldn’t let the boot he showed up in every now and then stop him.
This was a guy who came on the air not long after having had brain surgery, open heart surgery and back surgery – do you really think missing a toe or two or battling cancer scared him? No way.
He set off with a microphone in one hand and his leather briefcase in the other. How can you not respect such a man?
That’s why people on social media are pouring out their hearts about a man many of them have never met – he was highly respected and made things right.
Do not get me wrong. Stan loved what he was able to achieve in the Pittsburgh media scene, and who can blame him? About four years ago, I got the idea to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the cancellation of a SportsCenter-like cable show called SportsBeat.
Stan was all for it. SportsBeat was his baby and he was just as excited as I was when I called the show as a senior to enter the mock NFL draft.
Stan had old pictures, stories and information waiting for me. I was surprised that he didn’t help me write. He was like a proud papa, and rightly so, as it was a show ahead of its time. He later told me how devastated he was when SportsBeat was canceled. He started gagging when he said that and I started crying too.
It meant so much to Stan being there for the town.
That’s why he would never retire. He felt he owed it to us.
But you know what, “stush”? You didn’t owe us anything.
We owe you – and will forever owe you.
rest my friend You deserve it.
Yohe: I’ve talked to Stan a lot over the past few weeks. He texted me because he wanted to talk about Kyle Dubas, the Pirates’ surprisingly good season, or tennis, which he loved so much. Then, no matter what happened, he would ask how I was.
He was the guy with terminal cancer, the guy whose body was ravaged by diabetes. But he wanted to know how I was doing. That’s the kind of person Stan was.
By the way, I always felt better when I heard his voice, long before I knew him and considered him a friend. I think I speak for Pittsburgh when I say that.
When the Pirates lost to the Braves in Game 7 of the NLCS in 1992, a whole town watched SportsBeat the next night because Stan would give us a better feeling. We all watched. Whenever there was a heartbreaking loss, we did it. As late as January, Stan hosted the Steelers’ postgame show on the Steelers Radio Network. I have no idea if the ratings were higher after wins or losses, but I guarantee you the fans tuned in extra because Stan would make them feel better. We take sports seriously in Pittsburgh. Stan understood that and was always there to keep our spirits up.
Stan was a man of incredible gifts: remarkable television presence, soothing radio voice, fine writer, wonderful broadcaster, and a first-class journalist. He was incredibly smart, even if his self-mockery would suggest otherwise. Stan came to Pittsburgh in a very different era, when substance was everything. He adapted to the times but never changed who he was. As the decades passed and shock athletes and analytical minds swept the industry, Stan was still Stan, calmly telling us what he was thinking, seriously listening to what we had to say, and then drawing honest conclusions about what was best.
That was Stan, a true man of the people.
For many years I have had the privilege of joining Stan for a portion of his show every Wednesday at 12:20pm. It was my favorite part of the week. I was able to talk hockey to Stan for 20 minutes. What could be better than that? He always texted me before the show to remind me of my entry. As if I could forget that I was on the airwaves with him.
I’ll be thinking about Stan every Wednesday at 12:20 for the rest of my life. A man from Cleveland became a very, very proud Pittsburgh. Along the way, he truly became one of us.
The sport in Pittsburgh will never be the same without him, but thanks to him it will always be better. He always made us think. He always listened to what we had to say. He made us laugh. And tonight he made us cry.
I loved the show Stan.
(Photo courtesy of KDKA)