What's the Best Part of the NFL Offseason? More Football!

Well sports fans, it’s finally here. This weekend is the long-awaited NFL Draft, the equinox of the NFL offseason. Football junkies can now take a break from playing their tenth season on Madden’s Franchise mode, turn the channel to ESPN, and watch as draft analysts Mel Kiper and Todd McShay come to near blows after debating for the seventeenth time just how good quarterback prospect Matthew Stafford is. Seriously, the McShay-Kiper rivalry is right up there with Red Sox-Yankees, Hatsfields-McCoys, and Israel-Palestine. 

But to me, the NFL draft means two things. The first is that, as a Baltimore Ravens fan, I can can tune into the draft Saturday (and Sunday if I'm feeling hardcore) without a worry in my mind. Because if you required me to name only one facet of football in which the Ravens are far-and-away the most dominant team, it would without a doubt be drafting quality football players. And our ability to succeed so well in the draft all stems from our General Manager/Draft Wizard Ozzie Newsome. 

The thing about Ozzie Newsome is that (with the exception of one or two players) he possesses the ability to peer directly into the soul of an NFL prospect and determine just how good he will be as a professional football player. This, coupled with his monk-like patience, is why since joining the NFL, the Ravens' draft success has been unprecedented. So while other fans get anxious and prepare to second guess their GMs as April 25 looms (that's right, I'm talking about you, Jets fans), I and the rest of Baltimore's loyal can sit back and watch Ozzie do what he does best.

But along with the abundance of Ravens pride that I feel around this time of year, a part of me feels uneasy about how ridiculously obsessed with football me and so many other Americans are. While baseball sticks to spring and summer and basketball runs from winter to spring, football seems to be a year-long event now. There's preseason beginning in August, then the regular season runs from September to early February. From February to April, it's free-agent signing, rookie scouting, exclusive draft coverage, and of course, the announcement of next season's schedule (which now gets its own prime-time TV show). From May to July, things are a little calmer, but of course there is still constant coverage of training camp, who's getting injured, and who's holding out. 

Sure, the MLB and NBA both have their respective off-seasons, complete with drafts and free-agent signing periods, but the NFL is the only league to make a weekend extravaganza out of the draft, which now comes complete with its own (hilarious) drinking game. And of course, us sports fans eat it up. The NFL is becoming more than a football league that provides entertainment to millions of fans twenty weeks of the year; it is becoming a religion. And good old Google is there to confirm it. Go ahead, try it now: type "god" into the google search engine, it yields almost 70 million results. Now type "NFL" into google: 101 million. Okay, so maybe typing words into google isn't the most scientific way to prove a point, but you get what I mean. Football is becoming our golden calf, guiding us through the weeks of the year and dictating our moods. 

Now, I'm not a very religious person, so one might ask why I care so much. Well, as a sinner myself, I'm not really sure that I do care. Sure, sometimes I feel like I can be doing something more worthwhile with my time, but I enjoy following football religiously, and so do many others. So no grand conclusion here, just a suggestion that will maybe lead to more thinking and discussion about why football is so important to us, and if maybe America's obsession with football is unhealthy.

John Madden Retires: Another One Bites The Dust

As soon as I write a post about one announcer passing away, another one retires. That's right, everyone's favorite sportscaster, John "Captain Obvious" Madden, is calling it quits. And after a successful career coaching, commentating, and eating copious amounts of turducken, he deserves some time away from the game. I can see it now, just him and the Madden Bus cruising down the open road, not a worry in his mind.

Yes, there were some Madden-haters out there, sick of his inquisitive remarks--called "maddenisms"--like "he would've scored a touchdown if he hadn't been tackled right there." It's even rumored that during one Monday Night Football broadcast, the full moon was shown, and Madden proceeded to comment, "can you believe a cow jumped over that thing?". But most loved Madden for his simple explanations and game breakdowns. Unlike many commentators, he never tried to make too much out of a simple play. Madden told it like it was. Plus, his distinct style led to some great standup comedy. And who can forget what will perhaps be his greatest legacy, the Madden Football video game franchise (which now allows you to turn Madden's commentary off). So I tip my cap to John Madden as he saunters off into the sunset, a lone tear glistening on his cheek. Or is that leftover gravy?

Along with his simple, down-to-earth style of commentating, Madden was also loved for the genuine entertainment he got from doing his job. Unlike some in the field, Madden loved coming to work every day and that was, without a doubt, apparent in his sportscasting. This love transferred over to the millions that would sit on their couches Sunday and Monday night, and I know because I am one of these millions. In the end, what really makes us as a society fall in love with an athlete, a coach, or sometimes even a sportscaster is, plain and simple, their love for the game. 

The only thing I'm left wondering is if Madden's departure have anything to do with the recent death of Harry Kalas. Both 73, Madden and Kallas were born only three days apart. It's reasonable to believe that Madden saw the death of Kalas as a sort of wake-up call that he's not going to live forever. Madden probably wanted what, unfortunately, Kalas could not have: some time away from the game that he could spend peacefully with his family. One can only hope that he finds as much joy in retirement as he did in his career.

Well now I'm 0 for 2 on delivering sarcastic banter on why your team blows, 0 for 2 on scathing critiques of society as a whole, and 2 for 2 on sentimental looks into the careers of former sportscasters. Coming up next week, a discussion on exactly how racist Howard Cossell was.

More Than A Voice

This is not how I envisioned my blog’s first post. I was expecting to come up with some snarky entry criticizing one or more teams, picking a bone with the practices of a sports league, or sticking it to society as a whole for one annoying habit or another. But my plans changed a few days ago, when the tragic news of sportscaster Harry Kalas’ death got me thinking.

For the uninformed, Harry Kalas was perhaps best known as the play-by-play commentator for the Philadelphia Phillies. I personally knew Kalas as the voice of NFL Films, those overly dramatic retellings of the greatest football games ever played. Kalas’ smooth, Sinatra-esque voice coupled with the blood-pumping music of the NFL Films’ orchestra still gives me chills. What struck me most about the death of Kalas, though, was how struck everyone else was, which had me asking the question, “why exactly are sports commentators so important to us?” With the way Sportscenter treated the death, one would think that Hank Aaron or Brooks Robinson had passed away.

My first guess would be that, aside from the franchises themselves, sportscasters carry the most longevity. Star athletes are here one year and gone another, but the voices of our announcers stay with us through decades. I’ve been listening to John Madden stumble his way through football games for longer than I can remember. 

Secondly, sportscasters are the ones that teach us the game. Sure, my father was also there to explain how football, baseball, and the rest were played. But sportscasters are the experts; they point out the nuances of the game, telling us why a player needs to turn toward the basket on a pick and roll and why a running back needs to keep a low center of gravity.

My other thought is that sportscasters are sort of the middle ground between the athletes and us. While some have athletic experience, others are just normal guys with cool voices and an interest in the games. They’re often more relatable than the athletes, and for this reason, their leathery voices and hip catchphrases ring in our head’s for ages. Kalas’ most famous phrase had to be his exclamation of “outta here!” when a homerun was hit. 

He first used the phrase in the early 70s after hearing Phillies shortstop Larry Bowa use it during batting practice. Now the phrase is a staple of the game, with  countless other announcers uttering the words after the excitement of a home run. But Kalas will be remembered for more than those two words. He will also be remembered as the man who guided millions through a game that they love to watch. He died at 73 in the press box before a Phillies game, preparing to do what he loved to do best.