Kordell Stewart's HBO Max documentary, "Kordell Stewart: Slash & Burn," released Oct. 27, reframes a career many fans remember mainly for his running ability. Drawing on interviews with Stewart, teammates, journalists and archival footage, the film examines his time with the Pittsburgh Steelers, including the racism he faced and a 1998 rumor about his private life that he says shaped his career.
From Draft Night to the Starting Job
The documentary opens with how Stewart reached Pittsburgh and what followed once he finally became the starter. Former head coach Bill Cowher, running back Jerome Bettis and Stewart himself discuss his first three seasons, while the film presents him as a Black mobile quarterback whose style drew scrutiny. Journalist LZ Granderson offers a pointed observation about Black athletes: "you have to be twice as good to be considered half as bad."
The 1998 Rumor and Its Aftermath
The film's central thread concerns a rumor, circulated in 1998, that Stewart had been arrested for lewd homosexual activity at Schenley Park. The rumor was not true. The documentary presents differing perspectives from Cowher, Stewart, Bettis and the media on how the claim was handled, and it places the story within the historical reality of being gay in Pittsburgh at the time, using news footage and Granderson's firsthand account. Stewart's visit to Schenley Park, where he becomes visibly emotional, illustrates how much the rumor affected his confidence.
Benching, Reinvention and Personal History
The film also covers Stewart's benching in 1999, his stint as a wide receiver and his return to quarterback. It returns to his childhood and his mother's death when he was 11, which he credits with shaping him. Later segments highlight offensive coordinator Mike Mularkey, who built an offense around Stewart's strengths.
The documentary closes with Cowher's reflections on coaching Stewart and Stewart's own statement: "I'm not perfect, I'm not what they claim, what they say about those rumors, but a guy that just loved the game." Its value lies in giving Stewart and those around him room to speak to a legacy that the box score alone does not capture.