Somewhere between the Super Bowl pregame hype that makes me envious of coma patients and the actual Big Game itself, which was boring enough to put me in a persistent vegetative state, there was a glimmer of news that made the whole otherwise disappointing weekend worthwhile. And that news came from The Bus. No, not from Jerome Bettis (though news he is retiring and thus leaving the sports page is very welcomed), but from the 10-wheeled behemoth of road-tripping that is John Madden's home for six months of the year.
The news: Madden has been elected to the Hall of Fame. Finally. The news came as something of a shock. How was he not already in? Just a couple weeks back I was watching The Little Giants (by far the best movie Rick Moranis and Al Bundy ever did together) and had tuned in just in time to catch Madden coming off his trademark bus and turning a bunch of little pipsqueaks into the monsters of the Urbania midway. I remember thinking to myself, "No wonder he is in the Hall. The guy turned Devin Sawa into a football hero." Now that is coaching.
I came to find out the next day that he had been named a final candidate. How was John Madden not in the Hall of Fame 10 or 20 years ago? I am flabbergasted.
What exactly took Madden so long to reach the Hall is more of a mystery than lunch meat. So let's review his resume.
As a head coach of the Oakland Raiders for 10 seasons, Madden accumulated a winning percentage of .759 (112-39-7), the highest of any coach in the history of the game with at least 100 victories. Madden also led the Raiders to a championship, winning Super Bowl XI over Minnesota 32-14. You might remember the indwelling image of Madden being carried off the field, and as a side note, I believe that every player involved in that heavy lifting is Hall-of-Fame-worthy.
Recently several former Raiders, including future Hall of Famer Tim Brown, commented that Madden actually cost the team Super Bowls. Sure, the coach did go 1-5 in AFC and AFL championship games, but he was in the same conference as the Pittsburgh Steelers and Miami Dolphins, who went to seven Super Bowls in the 1970s. Everybody, Madden included, was losing to those dynasties, so that shouldn't count against them.
However, Madden's coaching career is the weakest part of his resume. As an announcer since 1979, Madden has become an icon, and whether you love him or hate him, he has been at almost every major football event, diagramming plays on the screen for over the past quarter century.
Maybe his biggest contribution to the sport has been his video game franchise. Madden NFL Football has been the cornerstone of not just pro football gaming, but sports gaming for almost 15 years. I realize that banking your Hall of Fame credentials on a video game is like using Pee-Wee Herman as a reference on a job application, but many kids' first introduction to the NFL is through Madden. Many gamers probably don't even know that Madden was a coach, but while baseball, hockey and to some extent the NBA are struggling to grab American youths' attention, the NFL has succeeding in luring the younger audiences to the game, thanks largely to Madden and his game.
Plus, you cannot underestimate the service Madden provided to the world by being part of some real, legitimate news during Super Bowl week. That is Congressional Medal of Honor worthy right there.
The fact is Madden could very well be the most popular and beloved figure in NFL history. His legacy stretches across all demographics. He is the embodiment of the American dream. What isn't there to love about John Madden?
Everybody loves Santa Claus; and Madden and Saint Nick share several characteristics. Both are big and jolly. Both cannot be trusted to leave a plate of unwatched cookies untouched (or six-legged turkeys either, in Madden's case). Both only really rely on one form of transportation, Santa's sleigh and Madden's bus.
You can bet that somewhere, Santa is in the Christmas Hall of Fame, so why did it take so long for Madden?
Well, he did have his case argued in front of the selection committee by Raider owner Al Davis, who is only slightly more popular than Darth Vader and Genghis Khan. He might as well have had former Colt and Saints head coach Jim Mora present his case in classic rant format (HALL OF FAME?! YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE HALL OF FAME?!?).
If he isn't the biggest name in football, Madden is in the conversation and it's obvious that anyone who didn't vote for his induction knows diddly-poo about the Hall. Even if you found his accomplishments lacking, it is the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of Awesome, or Hall of the Greatest.
Joe Namath is in the Hall, and he threw more interceptions in his career than touchdowns. But he was the Apple of New York's eye, and put the NFL officially on the map to stay when he predicted a win and then won Super Bowl III.
So now Madden joins Broadway Joe in the Hall and the world is right again. It is an honor long overdue. Now, wouldn't it be great if for his induction speech Madden diagrammed on the screen the circuitous route he took to Canton?
… and Boom! I'm finally here? Now where's the turkey?
