The first three weeks of this year, I had a brief,
superficial but more intimate-than-usual glimpse into the hiring
process and practices of the National Football League. I came to the
conclusion that the owners were spineless, two-faced slugs; the head
coaches back-stabbing; the players self-absorbed and self-centered; and
the fans thought they knew the game better than the entire NFL
organization.
According to Michael MacCambridge, I'm right! His meticulously researched book, America's Game: The Epic Story of How Pro Football Captured a Nation
is a close look at the history of football from the end of WWII to the
present. Like Anya Seton, another author that uses exhaustive research
for her stories, MacCambridge starts slow, almost painstaking, in the
first two-thirds of the book, stating facts and figures and events in a
somewhat chronological order up to ca 1970, about 25 years. He tends to
backtrack, spring forward, and then backtrack again within chapters.
The pace picks up considerably toward the end of the book, covering
more than 30 years in the last one-third.
I understand the need
to build a basis for the book, but it seems as though MacCambridge
skipped over important football events and information of the post-1970
era. Of all the great accomplishments of coaches, Tom Landry is only
mentioned a handful of times. But he fared better than other greats
like Mike Ditka, who's name appears once only as a possessive; or Bill
Cowher, mentioned twice in the context of an unwritten rule to not
sleep at the office. Instead, MacCambridge favors numerous quotes from
less-great coaches like Brian Billick.
Deion Sanders (introduced
as ushering in a new era of the NFL, which is the self-absorbed,
self-centered player era) garnered almost as much print as Roger
Staubach, which is very irksome to me. Staubach has always been one of
my heroes, on and off the field. Neon Deion will NEVER be the legend or the man Staubach is.
America's Game
isn't written for the casual football fan. MacCambridge assumes the
reader has much more than a basic education of the sport. I am not one
of those readers, and am not familiar with terms such as: "down-and-in
pass", "1-2 passing attack", "shallow drag routes", or he hit the
receiver "on an out pattern".
I do not have the name of every
owner, head coach, and general manager memorized. MacCambridge's
tendency to return to a person, identified only by last name pages
after last addressing them, made re-reading necessary and enjoying the
book harder. Who's Thomas (p. 351)? I had to refer to the index to find a person mentioned on the last page to find the last reference to him in the prologue. He also chronicled games using only players' names and not the teams. More re-reading to find out who won that one.
Another
aspect of MacCambridge's writing that makes this a difficult read is
his flair for the dramatic. When Frank Borman, in orbit in Gemini 7 in
1965, told Tommy Nobis to "sign with the Oilers", MacCambridge dubbed
it as an "interstellar" bidding war. Being in orbit above the earth
hardly qualifies as interplanetary, much less interstellar. He
describes a Jets-Colts game as a "harmonic convergence of elements";
and an argument over the Properties Trust had the feel of the "Spanish
Civil War".
Some sentences just did not make sense, at all. For example,
"On
the field, the checkoff system allowed the quarterback to audible to a
different play at the line of scrimmage if the defensive formation
threatened the one called in the huddle." (p. 201)
Huh? To audible? I know what the sentence means but it could have been worded much more clearly.
He described the midnight convoy of Irsay's Colts defection from Baltimore as "limned in radiation lights..." Baltimore radiated the Colts as they left?
Despite these obstacles, the book offers several funny moments in the form of very candid quotes from players and coaches.
But
there are as many instances of two-faced owners: Rosenbloom moving the
Rams from LA to Anaheim against the NFL's orders or Irsay trading Elway
to Denver without consulting Coach Accorsi.
How about
back-stabbing coaches? Bill Walsh found out that the reason he had been
passed over for the top position was his own head coach Bill Johnson
had been bad mouthing him to numerous interested teams. Al Davis and
Jerry Jones, 'nuff said.
Kudos to MacCambridge, however, because
he addresses those fans, who think they know the game better than
anyone involved with the NFL, very diplomatically:
"Thus
one had the great conundrum of pro football's popularity: fans, without
access to the team's playbook, scouting reports, game plans, and game
films, aren't really given the tools to perfectly understand their
team's actions and responses." (p. 412)
Touche!
The
best part of the book for an ex-Cowboy fan like me was the affirmation
that I have known for decades is that Cowboy fans are fair-weather!
MacCambridge has documented quotes from Staubach and facts surrounding
Jones egotism among other stats to illustrate this clearly.
If
you're a die-hard, know-it-all about football, you will still find this
an interesting read. For the rest of us, it gives us a slightly better
insight into the confusing world of football. But at least, when we
finish reading it, we are fully cognizant of the fact that we don't
know everything.