It\u2019s possible that I am more addicted to NFL Films than I ever was to the NFL itself. A football game, to the uninitiated, can be a static, unwieldy thing to behold. Half the idea of the game, after all, is to stall forward motion. Depending on the circumstances, that, too, can be exciting, even beautiful. But you have to pay attention to what\u2019s happening to appreciate such moments. And it\u2019s all too easy to let the mind wander during those raw stretches of time-outs, replays, penalties and, everybody\u2019s favorite, running out the clock.<\/p>\n
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But what if you isolate the high points of a game, tighten the focus on the players in mid-air or mid-tackle, season the moments with the soundtrack of growling, howling voices at collision point and sweeten them with orchestral music that either accentuates the tension or amplifies the humor? String such moments into a narrative and you can make an unsuspecting viewer fall in love with football to the point of being able to watch a whole season, maybe several, of complete live games. NFL Films did that for me and, I suspect, for tens of millions needing side-door access to the Leviathan of American Sport.<\/p>\n
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Steve Sabol, who died yesterday\u00a0at age 69 from brain cancer<\/a>, was likely more responsible than anyone else for making me conversant with professional tackle football. His father Ed may have founded the Mount Laurel, N.J. company that helped sell the NFL product to the masses. But it was Steve who more definitively fused its destiny with that of the league \u2013 and, in the process, connected most directly with the romantic film nerd in me. He could make a regular season Dolphins-Raiders grudge match look and sound like \u201cCaptain Blood\u201d and you knew he\u2019d been not only steeped in Michael Curtiz, but also knew his John Ford, Howard Hawks, Raoul Walsh and\u2026yes, even his Gene Kelly. Getting the footage was one thing; knowing how to get the best use of that footage, to play it over and over again without letting anything get stale were qualities that the best producers and directors, whatever their budgets or objectives, could appreciate.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n To be sure, he had some of the auteur\u2019s healthy egomania, however\u00a0blithely worn. \u00a0John Facenda may have been the Voice of God in all those Super Bowl highlight reels. But it was Steve Sabol\u2019s face you would always see as he pulled back the curtain on his company\u2019s proudest possession: Those miles and miles of archival footage going as far back as the ghostly, grainy black-and-white films of Don Hutson and Sammy Baugh through the wired-for-sound sideline rants of Vince Lombardi <\/a>and Hank Stram <\/a>to the present-day glossiness of Los Bros. Manning driving their teams to league titles. Sabol\u2019s presence on NFL Films compilations sort of reminded you of Walt Disney hosting his weekly TV series, introducing you to his own product week after week. One way or another, whether it was Disney or Sabol, you were going to know who was responsible for creating their Wonderful Worlds. (Which was fine. Sabol got to be pretty good at hosting and better at interviewing, drawing rich, illuminating anecdotes from, among others, those iconic ex-teammates Jim Brown and Bobby Mitchell.)<\/p>\n To my mind, this clip from the official Super Bowl XIII highlight film exemplifies everything that made the NFL Films brand inimitable: Editing, music, narration, pacing, Facenda’s mighty chords and sheer unapologetic rapture for the sport. You don’t have to be a Dallas Cowboys fan to get caught up by it.\u00a0(I’m not and I do.)<\/p>\n