Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4088.
It was football at its finest. Only instead of helmets and shoulder pads, the players at ESPNZone at New York-New York on Saturday afternoon wore baseball caps at rakish angles and baggy clothing that might have belonged to Jared the Subway sandwich guy before he lost all that weight.
As the players and their posses gathered around ubiquitous video screens that turned the second floor of the restaurant into something resembling Mission Control 15 minutes before a space shuttle launch, hip-hop music assaulted the senses and a DJ wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Harry Caray-style glasses did a reverse Johnny Rivers. He took away the registration numbers of the players and gave them a name, such as Big Gene and School Boy and One-Nine.
This was as good as it gets in the heretofore underground world of video game football -- the kickoff of the EA Sports Madden Challenge to determine the best Madden football player in the USA. Somewhere, the old coach who lent his name to the game had to be smiling.
I think.
Actually, John Madden was a no-show at the previous national championship tournaments that bear his name, although, it can be assumed, his accountant knew what to do with the royalty check.
Not that any of that matters to the disciples of his video game, the majority of whom wouldn't know John Madden from Dave Madden, the character actor who drove the bus for the Partridge Family.
"All they know is that Madden is a video game," EA Sports spokesperson Alison Ross said. "They don't know he was a coach."
Despite her youthful appearance, Ross might have been the third-oldest person in the room, next to this writer and some 43-year-old guy who paid the $10 entry fee up to test his gamepad skills against the Madden-ing crowd of teens and twenty-somethings that dominated the 250-player field.
For those not living with teenage sons, Madden NFL (insert year here) is the current generation's Slinky or Silly Putty or whatever diversion the uninitiated might have used to put off doing their homework. The game has been around for 16 years and with 45 million copies sold, it stands between Pong and Ms. Pac-Man in the video game hall of fame.
To wit, Madden NFL '06 had the biggest week one launch in the history of the franchise, selling more than 1.7 million units. At the manufacturer's suggested retail price of $49.99 per copy, that's a lot of Silly Putty.
At least EA Sports has decided to give some of it back to its loyal customers. This year's Madden Challenge finals, set for Pro Bowl week in Hawaii -- or H-A-W-A-I-I as Gamemaster Flash bellowed over and over -- will pay $100,000 to win.
It was the money -- I think -- that brought most of these video game Vince Lombardis to Las Vegas this weekend, as the competition seemed far too intense to be fun.
Alex Mirza, a 14-year-old freshman at Shadow Ridge High School, was one of the few Las Vegans to advance beyond the first two rounds. Wearing a black-on-black St. Louis Cardinals cap (at a rakish angle, of course) Mirza told me he was introduced to Madden football by his mom's boyfriend, a fellow named Pete Rayner.
At first, playing the game was just a way for the two to bond. But then Mirza got pretty good at it.
To make the games more interesting, Rayner would handicap himself by playing as one of the worst teams in the game. Like the Cardinals. But it wasn't long before young Mirza, playing with somebody like the Bengals or egad, the Lions, was beating up on Rayner's Patriots and Eagles.
"He's one of the best ones I've seen around here," said a huge man named O' Sirius, who organizes local Madden tournaments and stays abreast of the leagues that have formed in living rooms around town.
I had hoped to catch Mirza in action, but when it came time for his third-round game, his supporters and other spectators had gathered about six deep around his video screen. It reminded me of when I was a kid, when the local pinball wizard was making the counters fall down at the bowling alley.
Get Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend on the phone, I thought. The deaf, dumb and blind kid must be making a comeback.
The first thing I learned about video game football is that save for the groin injuries, it mirrors the real kind. When two highly skilled opponents meet, strategy and a good game plan are crucial.
Playing as the Packers, Mirza established his running game. But he kept his opponent, a lanky young man from Los Angeles known as "One-Nine," on his toes by having the pixelated Brett Favre throw an occasional pass to tight end Bubba Franks. Only Mirza made the X-Box version of Bubba Franks run much faster than he does in real life by punching the hyperspeed button, or whatever they call it.
Sensing an upset, the loquacious DJ made his way to the area where the Las Vegas teenager and his better-known opponent were punching the buttons on their controllers as if they were Florida election ballots. Their fingers moved so fast it looked like Little Richard playing the piano.
"If you take out One-Nine, we got to get you a name," chortled Mister DJ. "But until then, you're just plain Alex."
Unfortunately, the local kid didn't leave ESPNZone with a new nickname. One-Nine, playing as the Patriots, picked apart Just Plain Alex's defense in the second half by having the miniature Tom Brady throw quick passes to the flat that led to a come-from-behind 28-14 victory.
One-Nine's performance was so convincing that Mirza threw in the towel, or at least his controller, before the game was even over.
The DJ, whose routine was part Melissa Stark, part Chris Rock, excused himself and made his way to a more interesting game. "School Boy is playing with the Chiefs," he boomed. "And there ain't too many playing with the Chiefs who win championships and a trip to H-A-W-A-I-I."
Turns out School Boy didn't make it to H-A-W-A-I-I. Neither did One-Nine. Troy Brown, a 21-year-old Houston native and a junior at Texas Southern University, will be representing the Las Vegas region at the Pro Bowl.
I heard he has been established as a touchdown favorite against the deaf, dumb and blind kid.
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