My Dad Was #73

By Craig Wolfley Jr., Vice President, Wolf911

Growing up as Craig Wolfley's son meant a few things were just understood.

You were going to work hard. You were going to treat people with respect. You were going to love God, love your family, and love Pittsburgh. And if you ever forgot any of that, Dad had a way of reminding you that was impossible to ignore.

He was #73. And in our house, that number meant everything.

I grew up watching my dad on highlight reels — #73 in the black and gold, blocking in the trenches, fighting for every inch alongside some of the greatest players in NFL history. But the dad I knew wasn't the guy on the field. He was the guy at the dinner table, the guy on his knees praying, the guy who would drop everything to be there for someone who needed him.

He was loud. He was funny. He filled every room he walked into — not because he demanded attention, but because he genuinely loved the people in it. You couldn't help but gravitate toward him.

When his playing days ended and he moved into broadcasting, Dad found a second calling that fit him just as naturally as a football uniform. His voice — that big, warm, impossibly enthusiastic voice — became part of the soundtrack of Pittsburgh Sundays for over twenty years alongside his best friend Tunch Ilkin and the legendary Bill Hillgrove.

And then something happened that I still have trouble putting into words.

I got to work right alongside him.

Working as a producer at iHeart Media, I found myself working alongside Dad on his daily sports talk show — "In the Locker Room with Wolf & Starks." The show had previously been "In the Locker Room with Tunch & Wolf" — and that name change alone tells you everything about what had already been lost when Tunch passed in 2021.

I also worked with Dad onsite at Giant Eagle Market District in Robinson for "Chalk Talk" — a show Craig hosted alongside current Steelers players. The last one featured tight end Pat Freiermuth. Watching Dad interview a current player, seeing how naturally he connected with these young guys, how much they respected him — it reminded me that his impact on Pittsburgh football never really ended when he hung up his cleats.

There were moments working alongside him where I would watch him light up talking about the Steelers — that unmistakable enthusiasm, that love for the game and the city — and I would think, this is what he was made for.

And I got to be right there with him.

On March 10, 2025, we lost him.

And the silence that followed was unlike anything I've ever experienced. The voice that had filled our home, our city, and my headset was gone. Dad was gone.

But here's what I've learned in the months since — that voice doesn't go silent. It lives in the people he touched, the city he loved, and the legacy he left behind. It lives in Wolf911, which my mother Faith has built with everything she has to keep his mission alive. It lives in my brother Maximos, my aunt Christy, and in every member of our family who refuses to let what Craig Wolfley stood for fade into memory.

And it lives in me.

I am my father's son. I carry his name, his faith, and his love for this city and its people. And I am honored beyond words to serve alongside my family in Wolf911 — carrying #73's legacy forward, one act of service at a time.

Dad, I hope we're making you proud.

We love you. We miss you. And we're just getting started.

With love,
Craig Wolfley Jr.
Vice President, Wolf911
Bridge of Hope. Amplifier of Compassion.