This one hurts. This one stings. Ernie Accorsi was a great many things in a full, vibrant life that spanned 84 years before that enormous heart of his was stilled at last Saturday night.
He was a sports fan. He was a sports writer. He was a sports executive. He provided the questions for the “Colts Quiz” that Eddie gave his fiancés on the eve of their wedding in “Diner.” He was first an acolyte, then a co-worker and later a close friend of the great John Unitas, of whom Ernie once said: “God had a good day the day He came up with Johnny U.”
He was also a gentleman, and exceedingly good company, and it was my privilege to call him a friend for the last 30 years.
The stories are what come flowing back in these sad hours, so many stories, all of them told in a way only Ernie could tell them, or involving Ernie in a way that only he could have made them turn out the way they did.
Here’s one:
This was 20 or so years ago, because Ernie was still the GM of the Giants then. I received a call from my friend John Feinstein.
“Do you have Ernie Accorsi’s number?” he asked.
It’s a long-held protocol that a reporter will only ask another reporter if they will share a number if the subject in question would be a willing recipient of a call or a text. A lot of today’s sports figures ask one question before any other when receiving such a call — “Where’d you get this number?!?!” — and then it’s 50-50 whether the next sound you hear is dial tone.
I told John that not only would Ernie be delighted to talk to someone vouched for by me, but he might keep him on the phone an extra hour or two. Ernie read every sports book published in the last 75 years or so; I told John he probably would be able to recite “Season on the Brink” and “A Good Walk Spoiled” back to him from memory.
So imagine my surprise when about an hour later I received a call from something I’d never seen before: an irate Ernie Accorsi, who was yelling at me by the time I picked up and only got louder and angrier.
“I just got a call and they said they got my number from you and they said they were ‘John the Fan.’ How could you give my number out to fans?”
I told him, Ernie, I swear, I did no such thing. But I had given the number to John Feinstein.
There was silence. He hung up. And about two hours later he called me back, sheepishly.
“So when I got that call? I was annoyed because he was in a tunnel or something and had bad service. I heard ‘John the Fan.’ But what he said was ‘I’m John Feinstein, and I’ve been a fan of yours for years.’ But the part between ‘John’ and ‘fan’ fell into the ether somewhere. Sorry about that.”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I would have called back earlier …” he said …
“… but you’ve been on the phone with Feinstein the last two hours, haven’t you?” I helpfully said, finishing his thought. And there was more laugher.
Yes. That was Ernie. That was the man who’d helped take the Cleveland Browns within an inch of their first Super Bowl (three times) and later would drive the Giants to the doorstep of a third Super Bowl title before handing the reins over to Jerry Reese. Throw in his long history with the Colts, and you know why Accorsi was so pleased when he told me the day of his retirement: “Colts, Browns, Giants. Only the classics for me!”
“Maybe you can take a breather and come back to work for the Packers as an intern,” I said.
He laughed then offered a story (or course). He figured there would never be a reason that would force him out of the employ of the Colts, the team he’d grown up rooting for in Hershey, Pa., acquiring the knowledge necessary for Eddie’s fabled Colts Quiz. Except on May 2, 1983, he was at his home watching a Celtics-Bucks playoff game on TV when there came a special report on the screen: Robert Irsay, his boss, had just fallen for John Elway’s bluff and traded John Elway to the Broncos.
“I don’t remember a lot about what happened next,” Ernie said, “except I threw my remote control across the room and that the Bucks beat the Celtics that night to win the series.”
That was Ernie Accorsi. He was a sports guy to his soul and he was my friend. I already miss him terribly.
