The Steagles: The Forgotten NFL Team That Helped Football Survive WW II

A Forgotten Chapter of NFL History That Helped the League Survive World War II

In the fall of 1943, as the United States waged war on two fronts, professional football found itself at a crossroads. The National Football League, still a modest operation compared to the baseball-driven sports landscape of the time, was in crisis. Its players were disappearing—shipped overseas to fight in Europe or the Pacific. Coaches, referees, and even front-office executives had answered the call to service. Some franchises simply folded. Others searched for solutions.

Two teams, the Philadelphia Eagles and the Pittsburgh Steelers, found themselves particularly vulnerable. With their rosters depleted, neither could field a competitive team. And so, in an unprecedented move, they did the unthinkable: they merged.

For one strange, singular season, they became The Steagles—a team that, by all logic, should never have worked. Yet, against all odds, it did.

A League on the Brink

By the early 1940s, the NFL was still a second-tier sports league, struggling for national attention. Baseball reigned supreme, and college football drew more eyes than the professional game. Then came Pearl Harbor.

As young men enlisted by the thousands, the league’s talent pool evaporated. Teams that had once fielded young, able-bodied athletes now scrambled for anyone who could play. The situation was dire.

The Cleveland Rams shut down for the season. The Brooklyn Dodgers (no relation to the baseball team) and Chicago Cardinals barely held on. And in Pennsylvania, two struggling franchises—one in Pittsburgh, one in Philadelphia—realized they had no other option but to combine forces. It was an uneasy alliance.

The Eagles and Steelers had little in common besides their proximity. Philadelphia’s franchise was still searching for its first winning season, while Pittsburgh had been an NFL doormat since its inception in 1933. Their respective owners, Bert Bell and Art Rooney, agreed to share operations—but drawing up the logistics of a shared team would prove more difficult than they expected.

The result was a Frankenstein-like creation with a name that seemed more like an accident than a branding decision: The Steagles.

Two Coaches, Two Philosophies, One Dysfunctional Team

Merging two teams is one thing. Merging two coaching staffs is another. The Steagles were led by two head coaches: Greasy Neale (Philadelphia) and Walt Kiesling (Pittsburgh). It was, in hindsight, a doomed arrangement.

Neale, a former baseball player with a sharp football mind, was a visionary. He believed in innovation, particularly in the passing game. Kiesling, on the other hand, was a traditionalist—an old-school, run-first, smash-mouth coach.

The two barely spoke. During practices, Neale would install a play. Kiesling would scoff. "That’ll never work," he’d mutter, then call for something else. Disagreements became the norm, and while the team somehow functioned, there was little cohesion.

Then came the players—many of whom had never expected to be on a professional football roster in the first place.

Factory Workers by Day, Football Players by Night

The war effort meant that most able-bodied men had been drafted into service. Those who remained in the NFL were, for the most part, classified as 4-F—medically unfit for combat but still physically capable of playing football. Some had minor injuries. Some had chronic illnesses. Some were simply deemed unfit for military duty. One of the Steagles’ top receivers, Tony Bova, was blind in one eye and partially blind in the other.

Many of the players worked full-time jobs in steel mills, shipyards, and weapons factories. They would work exhausting shifts producing machinery for the war, then practice at night, and play games on Sundays. Yet somehow, this patchwork of exhausted, banged-up men managed to put together a winning season. The Steagles finished 5-4-1—the first winning season in Philadelphia Eagles history.

The Beginning of the End

Despite their relative success, the Steagles were never built to last. By 1944, the war continued, and the league still needed creative solutions. But the Eagles had seen enough. Neale and Kiesling had barely managed to tolerate each other for a season. Philadelphia ended the arrangement and took back its independence.

The Steelers weren’t so lucky. With no alternative, they were forced into another temporary merger—this time with the Chicago Cardinals, forming a new team that would go down as one of the worst in NFL history: Card-Pitt (nicknamed "The Carpets" because they got walked all over). That experiment, unlike the Steagles, was a disaster.

By 1945, the war was winding down. Soldiers returned home, rosters were replenished, and the NFL returned to business as usual. The Steagles faded into memory, a relic of a desperate time.

The Eagles Fight Song: The Birth of a New Identity

If the Steagles were the first glimpse of real success for the Philadelphia Eagles, what came after helped cement the team’s identity.

A few years later, in the early 1950s, Philadelphia ad executives Charles Borrelli and Roger Courtland wrote a song designed to rally Eagles fans. Originally titled "The Eagles’ Victory Song," it opened with the words "Fight, Eagles Fight" and played at home games for decades.

But it wasn’t until the late 1990s that the song evolved into the version heard today. The opening line changed to "Fly, Eagles Fly", and a once-forgotten anthem became one of the most recognizable fight songs in American sports:

Fly, Eagles Fly! On the road to victory!

Fight, Eagles Fight! Score a touchdown 1, 2, 3!

Hit 'em low! Hit 'em high! And watch our Eagles fly!

Fly, Eagles Fly! On the road to victory!

E-A-G-L-E-S! Eagles!

Today, the song is a defining feature of Eagles culture—played after every touchdown at Lincoln Financial Field and sung by generations of Philadelphia fans.

It’s an anthem of resilience, much like the team itself.

A Legacy That Still Matters

The Steagles may be little more than a footnote in NFL history—no throwback jerseys, no commemorative plaques, no retired numbers—but their story is a testament to football’s resilience. In a league that could have collapsed under the weight of war, the Steagles found a way to survive, keeping the game alive when it mattered most.

As the Eagles prepare for another Super Bowl appearance, their fans will sing "Fly, Eagles Fly" with pride—perhaps unaware that the team’s first winning season came when they weren’t just the Eagles at all, but something stranger and grittier, a wartime fusion of rivals that, against all odds, found a way to win.

For one unforgettable year, they were the Steagles.

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@Seanwiches_