| There is only one way to be able to guess what the word “Madden” — as in John Madden — truly means to a person. It requires prior knowledge of their age and the length of time for which they’ve loved football. To the children, teenagers and young adults of today, his name represents a juggernaut of a video game that has evolved into one of the greatest franchises in virtual entertainment. That’s how it will be for the youngsters of tomorrow and years to come as well, after Madden, at the age of 85 and just three days after the FOX Sports documentary “All Madden” aired, died unexpectedly Tuesday morning. There’s a lot more to know than that. “He was football,” NFL commissioner Roger Goodell said in a statement. “There will never be another John Madden, and we will forever be indebted to him for all he did to make football and the NFL what it is.” For a slightly older generation, Madden was a pioneering voice in broadcasting, offering a level of understanding and a desire to educate the viewer that hadn’t been heard before. He formed a broadcast tandem with Pat Summerall that might be the greatest mic pairing in television history. For 30- and 40-somethings, by the time we were old enough to consume NFL broadcasts as a core part of our lives, Madden was already a long-entrenched part of the furniture, his wit and wisdom things to be relied upon, an authority on his subject with a manner of warmth and friendliness. Over the span of 30 years starting in 1979, Madden was in the booth for CBS, FOX, ABC and NBC. Every major network got the Madden experience at some time or another, which is probably, for such an icon, how it should have been. Being the narrator of America’s preferred game for so long meant Madden became the kind of person you knew. So familiar, so ever-present, so larger-than-life that if you lived in the United States at any point over the past four decades and if football meant anything of even small significance to your existence, he was part of it. Millennials and the Gen Z population might not know as much about Madden’s game calls — the “booms,” Turduckens and quips. And their parents might have only passing knowledge of his Hall of Fame coaching career, one that spanned 1969 to 1978 with the Oakland Raiders and included a Super Bowl title in the 1976 campaign, as well as an overall regular-season record of 103-32-7. Only the true sages of the sport can recall further back to his time in the college ranks as coach for Allan Hancock College and defensive coordinator for San Diego State. Or before then, to when he played several positions for several colleges, including Oregon and Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, only to never play an NFL snap because of a preseason injury in his rookie year with the Philadelphia Eagles. He was a family man and got to enjoy that side of life to the full after retiring from the booth in 2009. He famously took trains, coaches or other forms of transport to games around the country, wishing not to fly after 16 members of the Cal Poly program were killed in a plane crash two years after he graduated. When he was persuaded to hit the television screens, what shined through most of all was his love for the game, caring enough about football to hold it to task when needed, to celebrate the great achievements and to wallow in the minutiae. To have the feeling that whatever else might be going on, watching a game of football and talking about it was a fine way to be spending one’s time. At his peak, Madden was paid more as a broadcaster than any player in the league. No one ever felt it was money poorly spent. Some people are so involved and invested in something, for so long, that they become a real and lingering part of it. There is no past tense needed here. John Madden is a part of football, now and forevermore. |
