James Harrison Shares a Handwritten Letter from Jack Lambert - A Steelers Legacy Moment
On a recent episode of the Deebo & Joe podcast, James Harrison pulled out something that stopped the show cold - a handwritten letter from none other than Jack Lambert, the legendary Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker. It was a rare, personal glimpse into a moment of respect between two of the most feared defenders in franchise history.
“From Jack Lambert, bruh. He wrote me a hand-wrote letter after my 2007 game,” Harrison told co-host Joe Haden, holding the letter up for the camera.
Haden’s reaction said it all: “You can’t buy that.”
And he’s right - you can’t. That kind of recognition, from one Steelers icon to another, isn’t something you find on eBay or in a Hall of Fame display case.
It’s earned, the hard way. On the field.
In the trenches. And Harrison knows it.
“The greatest linebacker to ever play for the Pittsburgh Steelers gave me a letter,” he said. “That’s why these guys need to vote for the Hall of Fame.”
That last part wasn’t just a throwaway line. Harrison used the moment to voice a belief he’s held for a while - that first-ballot Hall of Famers should have the final say in who joins their ranks, not media members. And when you’ve got a letter from Jack Lambert in your hands, your case carries a little more weight.
While Harrison didn’t specify which game prompted the letter, all signs point to his Monday Night Football showcase against the Ravens in 2007 - a performance that still echoes in Steelers lore. That night, Harrison racked up 10 tackles (nine solo), 3.5 sacks, three forced fumbles, a fumble recovery, and an interception. The Steelers rolled to a 35-7 win, and Harrison officially arrived as a force of nature.
Lambert saw it. And he took the time to say so.
The connection between Harrison and Lambert runs deeper than just black and gold. Both linebackers came out of Kent State, both played with an edge that made opponents think twice before crossing the middle, and both became the heartbeat of their respective Steelers defenses.
Lambert, of course, was part of that legendary 1974 Steelers draft class - one of the greatest hauls in NFL history. Four Hall of Famers were selected: Lynn Swann, Lambert, John Stallworth, and Mike Webster. Donnie Shell, another future Hall of Famer, was signed as an undrafted free agent.
Together, they helped build the Steel Curtain - a defense that powered Pittsburgh to four Super Bowl titles in six years. Lambert wasn’t just a cog in that machine; he was the engine.
He made nine Pro Bowls, earned eight All-Pro selections, and was named the NFL Defensive Player of the Year in 1976. That same year, he finished second in MVP voting - a rare feat for a defensive player.
He was also the NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year in 1974 and served as the Steelers’ defensive captain for eight seasons. From 1975 to 1983, he was an All-Pro in eight of nine years. That’s dominance.
And yet, Lambert wasn’t built like your typical linebacker. At 6-foot-4 and just 220 pounds, he was tall, lean, and relentless.
He could thump you in the run game or drop back into coverage like a safety - a key piece in Pittsburgh’s Tampa 2 look before it even had a name. He was the prototype for the modern linebacker before the league knew it needed one.
Then there’s the edge - that classic Pittsburgh grit. One of Lambert’s most iconic moments came in Super Bowl X.
After Steelers kicker Roy Gerela missed a field goal, Dallas Cowboys safety Cliff Harris patted him on the helmet. Lambert wasn’t having it.
He stormed in and threw Harris to the turf. The tide of the game shifted right then and there.
Lambert finished with 14 tackles and a quote that summed up his ethos perfectly: “No one can be allowed to intimidate us. We’re the Pittsburgh Steelers.
We’re supposed to be the intimidators.”
That’s the culture he helped build. And that’s the culture Harrison carried forward.
The 33rd Team ranked Lambert as the seventh-best linebacker of all time in 2023, just ahead of fellow Steelers legend Jack Ham, who came in at No. 8.
The names ahead of them? Ted Hendricks, Mike Singletary, Dick Butkus, Junior Seau, Ray Lewis, and Lawrence Taylor - the Mount Rushmore of linebacker play.
But in Pittsburgh, Lambert still sets the standard. “Mean” Joe Greene once said Lambert was so mean, he didn’t even like himself. That’s the kind of reputation that sticks.
James Harrison had that same fire. That same edge.
That same ability to take over a game and make offensive coordinators lose sleep. And now, he’s got something else - a letter from the man who helped define what it means to be a Steelers linebacker.
It’s not just a keepsake. It’s a passing of the torch.