John Madden...

Madden, Davis forge unique friendship

Friday, August 4, 2006 By JOSH WEIR



Where did Al Davis end and John Madden begin in the drama that was the 1970s Oakland Raiders?

“Al loaded the gun ... John could shoot it,” former Raiders linebacker Duane Benson said.

If only it were that simple. The relationship of Davis the owner and Madden the coach is shrouded in a decade of Silver and Black success, which has helped both enter the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Davis was inducted in 1992. Madden joins him Saturday.

Madden is the good-guy coach turned TV analyst, a man who claims to have no enemies. His smiling mug can be seen pitching everything from athlete’s foot medicine to hardware.

At best, Davis is an unparalleled football genius. He went from successful coach and general manager in Oakland, to commissioner of the AFL, to the position that made him famous — owner of the Raiders.

At worst, he’s a manical boss who strong-arms coaches and cities, his hand in every nook and cranny of the organization. His battles with the league — and the late Pete Rozelle, in particular — are part of his maverick image.

“You can simplify a simple person,” Madden said. “You can’t simplify Al Davis.”

Pat Toomay, a 10-year NFL veteran who played three years in Oakland, recalled the shock of seeing an owner dressed in black, wearing a black bracelet with “Al” spelled in diamond, driving a black Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham with black tinted windows.

Davis is different, and so is his approach to football. He named Madden the Raiders head coach when Madden was just 32, with only two years of pro football experience. Madden backed it by living Davis’ motto of “Just win, baby.”

Madden has the highest regular-season winning percentage (.759) among coaches with at least 100 career wins. In 10 years, he never had a losing season, made eight playoff appearances, won seven division titles and celebrated the Super Bowl XI title.

“I saw greatness in John,” Davis said, “and he lived up to it.”

Madden’s youth coupled with Davis’ domineering image was an easy equation for many observers. Davis played the jingle, Madden simply danced the dance, right?

Both have denied that scenario. While Davis’ hand was heavy and no one doubted his authority, Madden was no lemming.

“We knew when John was making a change that Al wasn’t in full agreement with. You could tell the meeting the previous night hadn’t gone well,” said Hall of Fame guard Gene Upshaw, who heads the NFL Players Association. “We knew we had to step up and make it work.”

More often than not, they did. Davis brought Madden plenty of talent. Nine Hall of Famers played for Madden, and guys such as Kenny Stabler and Cliff Branch are candidates to make that list grow.

“I was never turned down for one thing that I ever wanted for football by Al Davis,” Madden said.

That talent often came with a catch. The Raiders were notorious for having the craziest players in the league.

“Al Davis was a wild card himself,” Toomay said. “He liked the talented guys who were idiosyncratic. He had to have a coach that could handle that aspect and tolerate it.”

Juggling egos and diverse personalities is what Madden seemed to do best. Some believe he had no choice.

“Al Davis ran the ship, no question,” Hall of Famer and former Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson said. “He didn’t care about behavior off the field. He just wanted guys who could play. John Madden had to adopt that, or he wouldn’t have been the coach.”

Madden certainly wasn’t above taking in the gospel of Al. He called Davis the “biggest influence of his professional football life.”

“He was a listener, and I don’t think John’s ego ever got in the way,” said Ron Wolf, the general manager in Green Bay during the 1990s who was a scout for the Raiders from 1963-75 and head of personnel from 1978-90. “I don’t think he had a problem learning from Al Davis, especially with the knowledge Al Davis possesses. The biggest thing is they had a great working relationship.”

Madden and Davis maintain their relationship. They ate dinner together on July 4 — Davis’ birthday. Madden chose the 77-year-old to present him, reciprocating Davis’ choice in 1992.

“He’s just ... one of my best friends in life,” Madden said. “ ... If it weren’t for Al you don’t know where you would have gone.”

They seem an odd couple: The big, inviting Madden and the dark, contentious Davis. One has spent a life of being loved, the other being reviled and revered at the same time.

In the end, both are called Hall of Famers.

“It’s time John took his rightful place in the Pro Football Hall of Fame,” Davis said. “He certainly brings an excellence to it that no one can deny.”
 
Sistrunk says playing football for Madden was a labor of love

We know him as the popular TV football commentator, as the comical co-author of "Hey, Wait a Minute (I Wrote a Book)," and as the pitchman for an athlete's foot medication.

But whether John Madden is standing next to Al Michaels, arms waving as he pontificates on X's and O's, or whether his name is on the cover of a popular NFL video game, he's still "Coach" to Otis Sistrunk.

On Saturday, when Madden is inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame 28 years after he coached his last game, Sistrunk will be among the expected 300-plus Oakland Raiders in Canton, Ohio, saluting "Coach."

"John was a player's coach," said Sistrunk, one of Madden's defensive tackles for most of the 1970s and now a Lacey resident. "He loved his players and his players loved him."

Sistrunk remembers Madden coming into the locker room after practice, maybe bumming a cigarette off a player and then just chatting. Not much older than some of the players (he was younger than his kicker and backup quarterback, George Blanda), Madden had a way of connecting with guys like Kenny Stabler, Jim Otto, Art Shell and Gene Upshaw.

The frumpled Madden had a reputation for being lax in dress code, hairstyles and curfews. But he was maniacal about offsides, holding and other penalties.

"John was close to his players," Sistrunk said. "Players loved playing for him."

In 10 seasons with the Raiders, Madden dutifully followed Al Davis' request - "Just win, baby." Only 32 when Davis hired him, Madden became one of the youngest coaches to win 100 games, finishing 103-32-7 in regular-season games from 1969-78 before retiring to a life of talking.

Madden has become the voice and the face of NFL football.

The Madden we've all watched on Monday Night Football is not too unlike the man who stood in the Raiders locker rooms. The hands are still in perpetual motion.

"John always talked with his hands," Sistrunk said. "When he talk at a team meeting, he'd talk with his hands. People who watch him on Monday Night Football, see him. That's the old John. He's still the same guy."

Maybe not as intense. Who can forget Madden's wild rantings on the sidelines during a game?

"Like most coaches, John would get mad after a loss," said Sistrunk, who was a Raiders from 1972-80 and played in the 1977 Super Bowl. "But he didn't get mad that often because we didn't lose that often."

At 70, Madden is an icon and now a Hall of Famer. But he remains connected to his former players. Sistrunk sees his old coach he once did beer commercials with once or twice a year, usually at golf charity tournaments. And whenever they meet, "Coach" reaches for a handshake and says, "Otis, how ya' doing?"

"If he wasn't a good guy, you wouldn't have 300 guys coming back for his induction," Sistrunk said.

Madden, who quit coaching because of ulcers and stress, is now the 16th Raider to be inducted in the Hall of Fame. Clearly, he had a talented team. But he also had a knack for squeezing the best out of them.

"Guys who played for John would run through a wall for him," Sistrunk said. "He's just that kind of coach. Not everyone who played for John liked him. But I'd say 98 percent of them did. He was a down to earth coach."
 
Madden, Davis a memorable partnership
Championship coach, Raider owner stayed together despite tough losses

COMMENTARY
By JT the Brick



Updated: 9:18 p.m. PT Aug 3, 2006

When I was a young boy growing up in New York, I always looked forward to watching the late game on Sunday in anticipation that NBC would carry an Oakland Raiders game with Kurt Gowdy calling the play-by-play.

It always seemed to be sunny and hot on the field when I tuned in to watch the Raiders battle an AFC opponent at the Coliseum, as John Madden stalked the sidelines, Kenny Stabler threw pinpoint passes to Fred Bilitnikoff and Cliff Branch and the Raiders won many games in dramatic fashion while building their image as the Pirates of the NFL.

Never did I dream that I would end up working on radio and television for the Raiders and get the chance to call many of those great legends my friends.

Now, I am in Canton, Ohio for the induction of the 2006 class into the NFL Hall of Fame, and I'm excited to host my radio show from this great location and take in all the events that make up this historic weekend. Al Davis is a member of the Hall of Fame (1992) and he once again gets the honor of inducting another member into this great football fraternity. It is the ninth time that Davis has been called upon to induct a new member into the Hall — an honor that clearly proves his significance to the game of football.

What is so fascinating about the bond between Davis and Madden? Their friendship and working relationship has lasted the test of time. Both men obviously have a tremendous commitment to the Raider organization, but it is their loyalty to each other that should be chronicled and appreciated by football fans. Madden helped deliver Davis his first Super Bowl title on January 9, 1977. That win gave the organization legitimacy. Al Davis went on to win two more championships and that cemented the Raiders as one of the premiere franchises in the history of the NFL.

Madden is one of the most successful coaches in league history considering the fact that he only coached for 10 seasons. He ended his career with 103 wins to go along with 32 losses and 7 ties. It was the losses — especially in the post season — that molded Madden into becoming a legendary coach and leader. The Raiders won several significant games before capturing Super Bowl XI, but the road to success for this organization was paved with several high-profile losses that kept the franchise from reaching the pinnacle of success much earlier.

Oakland ended the 1976 season with a 13-1 record, suffering their only loss at New England in the forth week of the season. Oakland entered the playoffs riding a ten game winning streak as the AFC West champions but still had to face New England at home in the divisional playoffs. The Raiders trailed the Patriots 21-10 with a little more than 11 minutes left in a game that would eventually define Madden and his players as winners.

They fought back and ended up winning the game 24-21 as Stabler ran for a one-yard touchdown behind future Hall of Fame guard Gene Upshaw with just 10 seconds remaining. Most hardcore Raider fans still remind me that if Oakland didn't win that game they would not have had the opportunity to beat Pittsburgh in the AFC championship game (24-7) and end up dominating the Minnesota Vikings 32-14 in Super Bowl X. Would Madden have kept his job if he suffered another emotional loss in the playoffs? I can't think of another owner in professional sports who has given a young coach as much time to win a championship.


This is what amazes me about the resiliency of the relationship between Davis and Madden. They were able to stay focused and keep their eyes on the ultimate goal of building a successful franchise. Obviously, Madden won several big games as he retired from coaching with the highest winning percentage (.759) of coaches who have won 100 games. But one can imagine he would have gained entry into the Hall much earlier if he did not suffer those tough losses.

It is hard to find another coach in pro football history that lost more high-profile playoff games than Madden. In the last year (1969-70) before the merger with the NFL, the Raiders lost to the Kansas City Chiefs 17-7 in the AFL championship game. Kansas City went on to beat Minnesota in Super Bowl IV. In the first year of the merger (1970-71), Oakland lost to Baltimore 27-17 in the AFC Championship game and the Colts ended up beating Dallas in Super Bowl V. In 1972, the Raiders lost to Pittsburgh 13-7 in the AFC semifinal game, remembered for the “immaculate reception.”

In 1973, Madden was on the losing end to the Miami Dolphins 27-10 in the AFC Championship game and then Miami went on to beat Minnesota in Super Bowl VIII. In 1974, Pittsburgh beat Oakland 24-13 in the AFC title game on route to beating Minnesota Super Bowl IX. Another devastating loss for Madden and his staff was the 1975-76 AFC Championship game to Pittsburgh 16-10 before the Steelers kept rolling and beat Dallas in Super Bowl X.

At the time most Oakland Raider fans couldn’t stomach another big loss in the playoffs, but Madden gathered his team before the 1976 season and made it clear that they were the best team in the NFL and that their time had come to win the Super Bowl.

John Madden has gone on to become one of the most significant sports broadcasters of all time. He changed the way that fans watch the game with his in-depth analysis and passion for the game. He has revolutionized the video game industry with his top selling and highly regarded “Madden NFL” video game series. He is an American success story and obviously appreciates the fact that Al Davis hired him as a linebacker coach in 1967 and then made him the youngest coach in the American Football League at the age of 32 back in 1969.

The rest is history!
 
Millard's career got boost from Madden

Jerry McDonald



NAPA — To this day, Keith Millard is convinced the reason he made his first Pro Bowl is because of the dad of one of his high-school teammates.
Guy by the name of John Madden.

With Madden poised to be inducted into the Hall of Fame Saturday, Millard feels fortunate to have known the Madden family since his days at Foothill High.

Millard, the defensive line coach of the Oakland Raiders, was in his second season with the Minnesota Vikings when he had a big game in a 44-10 playoff win over the New Orleans Saints.

With Madden breaking down Millard's dominance to a television audience, the reputation of the Vikings' tackle soared.

"I think it was him that really got me noticed as far as other players and coaches," Millard said Thursday. "I had a good year and everything, but it wasn't until John Madden said it that people seemed to know it.

"It wasn't just me, but linemen in general. A lot of offensive linemen never got recognition until he did the game. He pointed out the good things that offensive and defensive linemen do. He gave us some exposure."

A teammate of Madden's son Mike at Foothill, Millard remembers Madden and Bill Walsh as being larger than life. And Madden came to his high school games.

"He was always excited, and you knew his players were really into him," Millard said. "But he was so busy we hardly ever saw him. But he would show up to our games. If we had a home game, it seemed like he was always there.

"He talked to us one time after a practice and I'll never forget it. We all gathered around and he talked about playing because you loved the game. He told us to enjoy it while we could, and put everything into it, but always remember it's just a game."

Among Millard's most cherished awards are three trophies signifying his selection to the All-Madden team, prominently displayed on his mantel.

Millard remains friendly with the Madden family. His son played football at Foothill last season for Mike, who coaches the freshman team.

"He's very, very excitable," Millard said. "He and his father are probably a lot alike."

PORTER UPDATE: Jerry Porter missed practice again with a calf strain, and coach Art Shell said the wide receiver's status for the Philadelphia game in Canton, Ohio, had not been determined.

"I don't know that yet," Shell said. "There are certain criteria we have to make a road trip regarding injury ... they'll be some guys that are left behind."

Since the Raiders don't usually comment on the severity of an injury and Porter is not talking to the press, it is impossible to know how seriously he is hurt.

The injury, plus the trade parameters set by the Raiders could make it difficult to consummate a trade.

Quarterback Aaron Brooks said he didn't think the Porter situation would become a distraction because of the leadership of the head coach.

"I don't think coach Shell is going to allow that to happen," Brooks said. "As far as what Jerry Porter and what he's going through, I can't comment, because that's not me. We have to go with the guys that we have. If he decides to join this group, we will welcome him with open arms. Until then, we're just playing football."

Whether Porter would be agreeable to repaying $4 million in bonus money — as stipulated by Al Davis as part of any trade — is unknown. Porter's agent, Joel Segal, could not be reached for comment.

If Porter were to repay the bonus money, the $6.45 million in acceleration credited to the 2007 salary cap would be reduced to $2.45 million.

According to an NFL source, the Raiders were also seeking a first-round draft pick for Porter at the time of the draft.

EXTRA POINTS: C Adam Treu (back) and S Stuart Schweigert (groin) returned to practice, but Shell said he wasn't sure who would be available to face the Eagles. "I might get clearance from the training staff and still decide to hold some players out," Shell said. ... Among those who didn't practice and might not play are CB Tyrone Poole (hamstring), TE James Adkisson (knee), TE John Madsen (oblique), and LB Robert Thomas (calf). ... TE Courtney Anderson (shoulder) practiced. ... QB Reggie Robertson was the latest Raider to miss practice with the flu. ... Organizers of the NorCal Special Olympics were present at Thursday's second practice. The Raiders raised $175,000 for the Special Olympics at their annual golf tournament.
 
Fasten your seat belts, because Madden's about to take off

Mark Purdy

CANTON, Ohio - The world has officially ended. John Madden, for the first time since 1979, boarded an airplane here Thursday night.

For future historians, the strange and unusual event occurred at Akron-Canton Regional Airport. But don't get too excited. Madden, the most famous non-flier in America, never actually left the ground. He was merely greeting the charter flight from the Bay Area that he had arranged for his family and friends, so that they could be here for his Pro Football Hall of Fame induction today.

``I wanted to go onto the plane and surprise them when they got here,'' Madden said Friday, still sounding a little amazed that he had actually done so. ``You know, I had no idea what it was like to go through airport security. I didn't know what stuff you had to take off, or that you had to show your driver's license or anything like that. Heck, I even had to get a boarding pass just to go out there on the plane. I didn't know you had to do all that.''

From the looks of it, Madden seemed to survive the experience with no ill effects. His personal boycott of air travel began the first year after he retired as the Raiders' coach. On a flight home from Florida following a broadcast assignment, claustrophobia overwhelmed and practically immobilized him.

He is definitely not immobile this week. Madden may be 70, but on his bus ride across the country to Ohio and every minute since he arrived, he has been as restless and frisky as his five young grandchildren. He isn't even trying to act cool about his induction. He concedes that sleep has been tough because of all the excitement. Someone asked if he might finally get some shut-eye on Friday night.

``I don't know and I don't care,'' Madden said. ``You know, you wait for this and it finally comes, and you want to cherish the moment. . . . The closer we got to Canton on the bus, I just got this feeling. When we took the turnoff from Interstate 80 and the sign said to Canton, I got a feeling I never had before. I don't know what it is. But I got this feeling.''

That feeling is easy to get when you show up here. In so many ways, pro football has over-commercialized itself into a tiresome blur of beer commercials, quasi-religious imagery and officially licensed mayonnaise. But this weekend is the exception. This weekend may be impossible to screw up.

Five other former NFL greats also will be inducted today -- Troy Aikman, Harry Carson, Warren Moon, Rayfield Wright and the late Reggie White -- and you can bet that the men who were so vicious and hard on the field will melt like Ohio dairy butter when they stand and deliver their acceptance testimonies.

Madden will definitely melt. Jim Otto, a Hall of Famer himself and one of Madden's great players with the Raiders, has no doubt.

``He is a very emotional man,'' Otto said Friday. ``I look for his lip to quiver.''

As it does each year, today's ceremony will take place inside a high school stadium in this rust-belt city where the NFL was founded, in 1920, back when the college game was bigger than the pro game. The inductions were slightly more fun (and more intimate) when they were done across the street, on the Hall of Fame steps. But six years ago, the demand for tickets grew too high. Thus, the function was moved into the 20,000-seat home field of Canton McKinley High.

The inductees now appear on a huge, rock-star-type stage. And there are indeed a few tents with corporate-sponsored parties.

Still, so much about the weekend is absolutely right. Madden, with his unabashed love of football culture, is soaking in every aspect of the party. He was wallowing in the stories being swapped at Friday's luncheon that included all the returning Hall of Famers. In this morning's Hall of Fame parade, Madden will ride in a convertible just ahead of the Turkey Hill Ice Cream float, and not far back of the Lloyal Llamas Llovers 4H Club.

Then everyone piles into the stadium, where Madden's lip will hit quivering mode. After debating whether to wing it, Madden finally decided to write out a speech. He was persuaded to do so last Saturday by former 49ers executive Carmen Policy, at a social gathering in Northern California.

``Carmen said I should write it out because it would give me the discipline to get it all together,'' Madden explained. ``After that, I felt I had to do it, because if I didn't, then I would be showing a lack of discipline. So on Sunday night, I got it organized and had my son come over and type it out into the computer.''

Madden, however, did not want to simply read what he had written today for fear it would come out too flat. So he reverse-engineered the printed copy by jotting down key words from each section of the speech. That means he will have a semi-organized presentation, with plenty of room to ad lib. No boarding pass necessary, and he will be free to move about the podium.

You don't get the feeling that Madden will waste this opportunity. Or the moment.
 
Madden much more than a voice in the booth

Elliott Kalb

John Madden gets enshrined into the Pro Football Hall of Fame Saturday as a head coach, which may come as somewhat of a surprise to people who know him solely from the last 27 years as the finest football announcer of all time. He deserves the honor.

He'll be forever linked with the video games that bear his name, and the networks that he worked for to call the games, but this guy was a great head coach.


My childhood was filled with watching late-afternoon Raiders games, with the Silver and Black usually coming out on top. From the "Ghost to the Post" 1977 playoff victory over the Baltimore Colts (when Dave Casper made a 42-yard reception on a post-pattern, leading to a game-tying field goal) to the 1978 "Holy Roller" regular season game to the 1974 playoff victory over the two-time defending champion Dolphins to the 1976 playoff game against the Patriots, when the Pats' Ray Hamilton drew a roughing-the-passer penalty in the final minute, leading to an Oakland come-from-behind victory, the Raiders were involved in many of the most memorable NFL games of the '70s.

That's not why I became a Raiders fan. I was drawn to them because their players were outlaws. Their coach was a heavy-set man who didn't seem to care how he looked. Madden had only a few rules for his players. Mostly, they involved being on time, paying attention, and busting their asses. His players were true renegades. Stabler, Hendricks, Villapiano, and others were all tough. How could a kid not be drawn to rooting for them?

You'll hear things like this about Madden's coaching career. He won 100 games in 10 years. Well, yes, but it's a helluva lot more impressive when you realize that he coached when the NFL played 14 games a season. Only in Madden's final season (1978) was there a 16-game schedule. He won over ¾ of his regular season games.

People question Madden's credentials for the Hall of Fame, arguing that voters were influenced by his post-coaching career and influence as a broadcaster. No one questions the credentials of Hall of Fame coaches Don Shula and Chuck Noll. They were contemporaries of Madden. Shula and Noll combined to win six Super Bowls in an eight-year period, beginning with Super Bowl VII. Only Madden and Tom Landry were able to break through in that era.

Madden coached against Shula's Dolphins and Noll's Steelers 16 times, which includes playoffs. The Raiders won the majority of those games. Madden was 3-3 in the postseason against Shula and Noll. If not for a Franco Harris miracle on a ricochet pass, Madden would have been 10-6 against Shula/Noll and 4-2 in the postseason. Everyone realizes that the Dolphins and Steelers had some of the greatest teams in history. Well, the Raiders had a team for the ages, as well.

The Hall of Fame is filled with members from those Dolphins and Steelers teams. Why haven't the Raiders been given the same respect? It took forever for Madden to get enshrined. Oakland quarterback Ken Stabler is still not in the Hall. (Stabler didn't compile the numbers. It's hard to believe, but the Snake had only eight games of 300 yards passing in his Oakland career). It is my contention that Oakland punter Ray Guy belongs in the Hall.


The Raiders of the 1970s need more Hall of Fame representation. It's hard to figure, since the team finished first, fourth, fourth and first in four consecutive years in points scored (out of 28 teams) beginning with the 1974 season.

You talk about relevant. Madden was a head coach for all of 10 seasons. He's been an integral part of the game for more than 40. Madden was a defensive assistant for the Raiders, trying to stop the legendary Vince Lombardi's offense in Super Bowl II. John Madden last coached an NFL team in 1978, and yet one of his former players is still an active NFL head coach (the Raiders' Art Shell).

Madden could have won three or four of the first dozen Super Bowls. Following a 12-1-1 season in 1969, the Raiders defeated the Oilers, 56-7, to advance to the AFL Championship game against the Chiefs and play for the right to represent the league in Super Bowl IV. The Raiders, down by a touchdown, had their late chances. Oakland quarterback George Blanda was intercepted in the end zone by the Chiefs' Emmitt Thomas.

The next year, the Raiders again won their division and again won an opening playoff game. This time, they traveled to Baltimore for the first ever AFC Championship Game. The Raiders held Johnny Unitas to 11-30 passing, but Oakland quarterback Daryle Lamonica was injured in the second quarter, and Blanda threw three interceptions in relief. Madden's team was victimized for an 11-yard touchdown run by Norm Bulaich off the ancient Statue of Liberty play. The Raiders lost this one 27-17.

Madden's next playoff game was the "Immaculate Reception" defeat in Pittsburgh. As difficult as it was to take that 1972 elimination, his last playoff loss could have been the worst. It was decided by the refs. The Raiders won the Super Bowl following the 1976 season.

In 1977, Madden led the Raiders to a record of 11-3. Casper pushed Oakland past Baltimore in the divisional round of the playoffs. That led to a trip to Denver for the AFC Championship game. In the third quarter, the Broncos had first-and-goal from the 2; and gave running back Rob Lytle the ball. He was hit by Oakland safety Jack Tatum, and the Raiders came up with the football. The refs ruled that Lytle's forward progress had been stopped and ruled the play dead. The Raiders were hit with an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty, placing the ball on the one-yard line, where the Broncos converted to take a 14-3 lead. Despite the controversial call, and despite losing wide receiver Fred Biletnikoff to a dislocated shoulder late in the first half, the Raiders closed to 20-17 in the final minutes. Denver ran out the clock and defeated the defending world champion Raiders.

It's easy to recall the low points of Madden's tenure with the Raiders because there were so few of them. Yes, there were losses to some of the greatest teams in history (and eliminations to Hall of Fame quarterbacks Dawson, Unitas, Griese, and Bradshaw). But there were lots of big victories.

Madden, of course, also coached in one of the more infamous preseason games in history. In August of 1978, the Raiders' Jack Tatum struck his helmet into the neck of Patriots receiver Darryl Stingley. The hit paralyzed Stingley. Opposing coaches had long believed that there was a "criminal element" on the Raiders. Not that the Tatum hit was necessarily a cheap shot. Madden was deeply affected by Stingley's paralysis. He coached in 1978 — the Raiders 14th consecutive winning season (Madden having spent the last 12 with the organization, 10 as head-coach) but retired on January 4, 1979.

There is so much to admire about Madden the coach and Madden the person. One thing that never gets mentioned is the fact that he stayed retired. It's common for retired coaches to un-retire. Paul Brown went back. Bill Parcells went back. Joe Gibbs went back. George Allen, and Dick Vermeil, and Bill Walsh went back. At the age of 80, Marv Levy is back as a general manager with the Buffalo Bills. Even Vince Lombardi went back with the Redskins. But Madden never went back. His 10 years as a head coach are enough to warrant a spot in the Hall of Fame.

John Madden has a better playoff winning percentage than Hall of Famers Don Shula and Tom Landry and Bud Grant. Look at all the coaches with at least 100 career victories (including postseason). How many have won 70% of their games? Just Madden and Vince Lombardi.
 
BOOM! BAM! POW!
'Hey, Wait A Minute' ... how did this Cal Poly guy get into Canton? Well, 'One Size Doesn't Fit All' when it comes to being 'All Madden'

Cam Inman

John Madden has done just about everything one can do in football, from being a player to a Super Bowl-winning coach to an Emmy Award-winning broadcaster.It's early November 1966 and John Madden sits on a bench outside San Diego State's noisy locker room. He's scheming in peace, a young defensive coordinator plotting the perfect formula to outsmart top-ranked North Dakota State.

"So I'm sitting on the bench, and Al Davis comes up. He was there scouting for the Raiders," Madden recently recalled in an exclusive interview with the Contra Costa Times. "He sat down next to me and started off asking, ‘What are you doing?' "

For the next hour, Madden and Davis talked football, throwing out terms such as "split T" and "hit the gap."

So it began, a relationship that blossomed into Super Bowl bliss, a Raiders coaching career that will vault Madden into the Pro Football Hall of Fame today in Canton, Ohio.

"He's deserving," said Davis, who will present Madden at the enshrinement ceremony. "It's so (expletive) unfair that it's happening now. But what the hell, it's happening."

Madden's induction comes almost 30 years since his last game with the Raiders in 1978. Almost 40 years since his San Diego State defense shut out North Dakota State in a 36-0 victory by the Aztecs, who finished undefeated in 1966. Almost 45 years since he first stepped on a field as a coach and told his wife, "Someday I'm going to make money coaching."

How did Madden, a former Cal Poly player and graduate, do it? He had steppingstones, like most anyone else, and by turning over those stones, you will truly discover the relatively untold path he took to coaching immortality.

"He's a Hall of Fame coach," former Raiders center Jim Otto said, "and I'd fight anybody who didn't say so."

Madden's coaching roots still run deep in his soul, even while he's branched out in so many other directions — Emmy Award-winning broadcaster; video-game icon; radio-show storyteller; real estate developer; a pitchman for a steakhouse chain, beer, hardware and anti-foot fungus medicine; bus-riding legend; budding winemaker and boccie ball enthusiast.

He turned 70 on April 10, long removed from when Davis entrusted him with the Raiders' head-coaching duties in 1969, a lofty promotion for a 32-year-old who spent the two previous years as the Raiders' first linebackers coach.

One decade. That's all he served as the Raiders' head coach, all the time he needed to produce one of the finest records ever in pro football. He had 103 wins and seven ties in 142 regular-season games, giving him a .759 winning percentage that ranks No. 1 among coaches with at least 100 victories.

"His records are unparalleled," Davis said. "He had 10 years of greatness."

Madden didn't even have 10 years of coaching experience when Davis anointed him John Rauch's replacement.

If not for a knee injury, Madden might have been lining up at offensive tackle back then for the Philadelphia Eagles. Selected in the 21st round of the 1958 NFL draft with the 244th overall pick, Madden saw his playing career come to an abrupt end when he tore knee ligaments in a rookie camp.

"But I made a good block," Madden said, chuckling. "I blocked my guy."

His rehabilitation sessions at the Eagles' facility introduced him to a side of football that sparked his interest in coaching. Hall of Fame quarterback Norm Van Brocklin would be in the locker room every morning watching game film and often called over Madden to sit with him after physical therapy.

"The longer that season went, the more I knew that I better start getting serious on this coaching thing because it doesn't look like I'd ever be playing again," Madden said.

He didn't play again and instead returned to where he played his final games — Cal Poly.

Go there today and you'll see subtle reminders of his Cal Poly days. Upstairs in Mott Gym, his plaque hangs just above baseball great Ozzie Smith's in a conference room that doubles as the Cal Poly Athletic Hall of Fame. Downtown at Firestone Grill, his green No. 74 football jersey is framed and on display next to big-screen televisions.

A right tackle for the football team in 1957 and '58 — he also played catcher on the baseball squad — Madden came back to Cal Poly in 1960 to obtain his master's degree and teaching credential.

He did his student teaching at San Luis Obispo High, where he debuted as a coach. He ran the spring football program until a new coach arrived. The Tigers won the Southern Section championship that fall.

"The athletic director, Phil Prijatel, asked me if I would coach the high school team in spring football," Madden said. "I had a hell of a lot more confidence than I had talent. So I said yes."

Said Prijatel: "I remember the squint in his eye when he was coaching there. You're talking 50 years ago, but I remember him as the most unpretentious person I'd ever seen. He just blended in with the woodwork."

That same spring, Madden volunteered to coach in the Cal Poly alumni game. His side won, and he told his young wife, Virginia, he'd someday earn a living as a coach. "She just laughed," recalled Madden, who will celebrate his 47th wedding anniversary Dec. 26.

His first paid coaching job came at Allan Hancock College in Santa Maria. Go by there today and you will be hard-pressed to find any Madden memorabilia or even any sign of the 1960 state title the Bulldogs won in his first season as the line coach under Al Baldock.

Madden became the head coach at Hancock in 1962 after two years as Baldock's assistant. He posted a record of 4-5 his first season and 8-1 in 1963.

While living in Shell Beach, he opened his door to college coaches passing through on recruiting trips, including San Diego State's Don Coryell, whom he first met at a coaching seminar on the "I" formation. Coryell would later win 114 games in his NFL career as head coach of the St. Louis Cardinals and San Diego Chargers.

"We'd sit at the kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey and talk football," Madden said.

Madden left Hancock to become Coryell's defensive coordinator at San Diego State in 1964 but not because of his open-door hospitality. Coryell remembers scouting a community college game in Riverside when the opposing defense made him take notice.

"They were playing all over the field, knocking the heck out of anybody," Coryell said.

When he needed a new defensive coordinator, Coryell hired Madden, the designer of that menacing defense.

"He was great with the players. They loved him, and he loved them. Everything worked mutually," Coryell said. "He was easy to work with, no problem. He proved to be a great, great coach. I knew I'd lose him sooner or later."

San Diego State was a national powerhouse back then, and Madden used to visit the campus office of former Aztecs coach Paul Governali, who, unbeknownst to Madden, was a close friend of Al Davis.

Madden figures Governali recommended him to Davis when the Raiders went searching for a linebackers coach. His one-hour chat on the bench with Davis helped, too.

"I didn't think anything of it. I went home thinking I'd probably never talk to him again," Madden said. "... I didn't know I was being interviewed when I was putting in the defense against North Dakota State."

In his first season as the Raiders' linebackers coach, Madden found himself coaching against his idol, Vince Lombardi. It was Super Bowl II in Miami, and although the Raiders fell 33-14 to the Green Bay Packers, Madden couldn't believe where his career had taken him.

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Said Madden: "I look across the field at Vince Lombardi, who was always my idol, and I'm thinking, ‘I'm telling defensive guys what to call against Vince Lombardi. Holy (cow). This is pretty good.' "

After the Raiders lost the following season in the AFL championship game to the New York Jets, Rauch resigned, headed for the Buffalo Bills and asked Madden if he wanted to come. Not long after, the Pittsburgh Steelers hired Chuck Noll to be their coach, and he asked Madden to become his defensive coordinator.

Madden's loyalty rested with the Raiders.

But something else also made Madden the right fit.

"There's no one who did more for racial diversity than the Raiders of Oakland, and John Madden, because of his position, was in the middle of the fight, and he saw no color," Davis said. "He was the perfect representative of my thinking with players."

That era's Raiders were known as much, if not more, for their cast of renegades as they were for their victories.

"To him, we were all normal. To other people, we were characters," said Art Shell, a Hall of Fame left tackle under Madden and now the Raiders' coach. "He's a great coach. John understood his players. He knew exactly what buttons to push on each individual on that football team. He could get people to play for him."

Said Otto, one of nine Hall of Famers to play for Madden: "He's a winner, and he was able to lead us in that way. He set the intensity and made us go. There aren't many like that. He's special."

He also was an innovator. Madden claims he was the first coach to hold spring minicamps, film practices and send extra men into huddles during games (a practice that later was outlawed). His practices were long, and fundamentals weren't forgotten, but "we used to laugh at practice," Madden said.

Madden steered the Raiders to AFC Western Division titles in 1970 and 1972-76.

Madden's defining game came in the 1976 season, the first to end with a Super Bowl trophy for the Raiders.

On the Thursday before that Super Bowl XI victory over the Minnesota Vikings at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, the Raiders worked out on a rain-soaked UC Irvine field and produced "as perfect a practice" as Madden said he'd ever seen. Only one of quarterback Ken Stabler's passes hit the ground.

Two nights later, on the eve of the Super Bowl, Madden told Davis on the phone from his hotel room: "Al, we're going to kill them."

Madden recalled Davis' reaction: "Don't say that! Don't say that!"

After the 1978 season, Madden debated whether to retire. He had a Super Bowl ring and although he wanted one more, the only other ring he got was from his wife to commemorate his 100th win.

Lombardi coached for only 10 years, so Madden, with an ulcer flaring up, figured a decade would suffice for him. He couldn't see himself preparing again for the draft, minicamps and training camp.

"So I thought I'd get out and do something else," said Madden, who had a winning record against each of the 10 Hall of Fame coaches he faced. "Had I not got into broadcasting and enjoyed it ... broadcasting was not the same as coaching, but it filled the void."

His "Boom, Boom!" broadcasting career — from CBS to Fox, ABC and now NBC — has lasted longer than his coaching days. But it's "not close, not close" to the joy he felt coaching the Raiders.
 
Madden's family's philanthropy centers on community

Cam Inman



CANTON, Ohio - On the back of their black jerseys are the name "MADDEN" and numbers "06." They'll proudly wear them today no matter how hot it gets, for it's a special occasion.

The Maddens are here, at the NFL's birthplace and historical shrine, to watch their patriarch, John Madden, be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame for his 1969-78 tenure as the Raiders coach.

He's already recognized globally, be it from his time as a coach, broadcaster or all-around football ambassador. His family name, however, is associated with much more than football in and around his hometown of Pleasanton.

"It's where I've really lived the biggest part of my life," Madden said recently from his office in Pleasanton's Hacienda Business Park. "All the good years were here, all the Raiders years, the good years of coaching. My kids grew up here, went off to (Ivy League colleges), came back here and went to business here."

John and Virginia, his wife of 46 years, aren't the only ones giving back to the community they've mostly called home since he joined the Raiders staff in 1967. Their two sons, Mike, 42, and Joe, 40, are making as successful an impact on the region as their dad did on the football field. Mike is president of the family's real estate operation, Red Bear Property Management, while Joe heads Goal Line Productions studio. But they do much more than those day jobs.

"I always thought in raising our kids, if they didn't do anything in life but give back, then we'd have done a good job as parents," Virginia said. "Thank God, because they both do (give back)."

Mike is entering his 14th season as Foothill High School's freshman football coach. "From the first month, I was literally hooked," said Mike, who lives in Pleasanton's Ruby Hill enclave. "I can't imagine not doing it. I think I've got the best coaching job in football."

He said his style is similar to that of his father's, noting: "I like to keep it simple and philosophically I do some of his things -- be honest. That works well with guys in their 20s in the 1970s and it works well with 14-year-olds in the new millennium."

Mike's job at Red Bear certainly has worked well in the revitalization of Pleasanton and Livermore's downtowns. Those projects include the development of Pleasanton's Rose Hotel on Main Street and a still-in-the-works retail complex that anchors Livermore's new downtown district.

"I take a lot of pride in it, because it's being done right," John said of his family's real estate endeavors. "There are certain things when you've been around an area a long time, you know what's right, what's needed and what's not."

Toward the end of his Raiders coaching career, Madden first entered the real estate picture by buying up space in Dublin and single-family homes in and around Pleasanton.

"He took his natural interest in real estate and I turned it into a full-time job," said Mike, noting that his first projects were the creation of senior housing units in Pleasanton. He also got into seismic retrofitting of buildings in Pleasanton and Livermore before delving into the Rose Hotel project.

The senior Madden says he takes most pride in the Rose Hotel, where he's been a morning visitor since its December 2001 opening. The Livermore retail center, which also will feature restaurants and office space, promises to become quite a looker, too.

Joe, a Livermore resident, has interests in film that go beyond Goal Line's 7,000-square-foot sound stage where many of his father's commercials and "All Madden" segments have been shot. He is a big supporter of the California Independent Film Festival, which is held in Livermore. He's also done independent films himself and served as an executive producer on the 2003 release "The Cooler."

Both sons are on the board for the Livermore Valley Performing Arts Center. Mike used to be president of the Pleasanton Downtown Association and Joe's worked with the Tri-Valley Convention and Visitors Bureau and Livermore Valley Winegrowers Foundation.

"They've done so much for Pleasanton, as well as the surrounding communities," Pleasanton Mayor Jennifer Hosterman said.

Livermore Mayor Marshall Kamena echoed those sentiments and remarked how much of a pleasure it's been to deal with the Madden family on community issues.

If the Maddens are so well known, and so respected by community leaders, could they stake claim as the region's First Family?

"If we're the First Family, there's a long list of other first families," Joe said. "My dad doesn't see himself as the only player in town, nor does my brother or, of course, myself. It is a community involvement."

How involved?

"They own the whole Pleasanton," quipped Al Davis, the Raiders managing general partner and Madden's presenter at today's enshrinement ceremony.

How many properties do the Maddens own?

"A lot," John replied.

Hundreds?

"Yeah," he said.

The Maddens prefer to keep private their countless philanthropic endeavors, which Hosterman also raved about but kept confidential, too.

"You don't think about (the community work). You just do what you can," said Virginia, who, along with her husband, works closely with the Pacific Vascular Research Foundation in San Francisco. "We get numerous requests we can't do, and it's hard. You want to be sure your help goes where you want it to go."

Such is life for a Madden.

So what's it like to have that last name and call for a restaurant reservation or a tee time?

Said Mike: "One time, when I was asked if I was related to John Madden, I said, 'Yeah, he's my dad,' and they said back to me, 'You wish.'"
 
Davis, ex-players love Madden

By Jason Jones
Published 12:01 am PDT Saturday, August 5, 2006


CANTON, Ohio -- Why John Madden's former players loved him has to do with more than wins and losses.

With Madden being inducted the Pro Football Hall of Fame today, former players and Raiders owner Al Davis remembered Madden's treatment of players in the late 1960s, and years later, that endears him to them.


So when Davis hired the 32-year-old linebackers coach as his head coach in 1969, Davis took into consideration not only strategy, but how Madden would operate in a changing America.
"I say to you -- this is self-serving -- that the Raiders have done more than any organization, politically or not, in fermenting and helping diversity, and John Madden was in the battle from Day One," Davis said.

Davis also noted that Eldridge Dickey, the first African American quarterback to be drafted (first round, 1968), played for Madden.

"Those players -- (Hall of Fame guard Gene) Upshaw and (Hall of Fame tackle Art) Shell -- didn't get to where they got based just on having ability," Davis said. "They had to have someone who believed in them, and it was important to me to have someone like that, that as I told you, he saw no color."

Raiders Hall of Fame center Jim Otto didn't hesitate when asked Friday at a news conference what Madden's most important qualities were as a coach.

"It's been said before, and I'll say it again: John Madden knew no color, No. 1" Otto said. "John Madden was a player's coach, really, No. 2."

Shell still holds Madden in high esteem, learning much of his coaching philosophy from Madden.

"Big John is my guy," Shell said at the start of training camp. " … I have a lot of respect for what he's done for this organization in the past, and for me."

A comeback?

Madden always has said he never seriously considered a return to coaching after retiring following the 1978 season.

Madden, however, recalled a night he worked with former Dallas coach Jimmy Johnson for Fox Sports, when Madden thought he might want to coach again.

Johnson was on the verge of returning to the NFL to coach Miami, which made Madden think, I want to go back like Jimmy.

Madden then had a moment of clarity walking back to his hotel room that night.

"I said to Matt (Millen), 'You know, I have a feeling for the first time since I got out of coaching that I want to coach again,' " Madden said. "I said, 'I hope when I wake up it goes away.' I woke up the next morning, and it went away. That was true -- I did have that one night. That was it."
 
Madden heads to the Hall of Fame as an NFL icon

By Mark Kreidler
Published 12:01 am PDT Saturday, August 5, 2006



Oh, but they love him. They love John Madden when he goes into the whole big-galoot thing on the air, waving his arms around and gesticulating as if he were directing traffic at a bike intersection in Beijing.
They love Madden when he says "Boom," the way he does sometimes, or did. That's sort of the past, anyway. Now that it's a signature line, he doesn't really say it much, except in ads for products like Tinactin.

"But when he says it on the air, the viewer, the guy on his couch or with a beer or wherever he is to watch the game -- he's thinking the same thing," says former NFL player Duane Benson. "He's thinking what John is saying."


Benson sometimes calls Madden "coach," and that's the line of demarcation for Madden himself. He says there are people who call him "coach" and people who simply call him "Madden," as in "Madden NFL 07" from EA Sports.
"When I get the 'Hey, Madden!'" Madden says, "it's the group that plays the video game."

And they love him for it, the fans. They love Madden for his accessibility, for the fact that they can shout, "Hey, Madden!" and he'll turn and say "Hey" right back. He's no more royalty than they are, and that's what makes him lovable. He is one of the rest of us.

He will go that way into Canton, Ohio, today, part of the latest induction class to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, 27 years after he was first nominated. The Hall officially elected Madden as a coach, but it couldn't matter less; as Al Davis said the other day, "He's an icon," and that's close enough for any hall of recognition, probably.

"It means everything to me that I'm being honored as a coach," Madden says. "I have heard it said before that the longer you wait, the more you appreciate it, and believe me, it's true."

And if all of that -- this whole raft of goodwill -- occurs based on a genial lie, then so be it. It's only a little lie, really, just the part about Madden being like everybody else. But what's a fib or two among friends?

"Whatever John did, he did well," says Jim Otto, the center on Madden's greatest Raiders teams. "He did it very well."

Man, that isn't even the half of it.

In the space beyond the sheen of celebrity and the renown of athletic accomplishment, John Madden stands as a body of work whose success would stun even those who think they know him. Madden isn't just an announcer, nor a video game, nor the guy from the store with the helpful hardware man. Madden is an empire.

He does still chuckle and telestrate his way through NFL games, it's true, but the 70-year-old Madden now has done so in the employ of three of the four "major" networks: CBS, Fox and ABC and will add NBC when he calls Sunday's Hall of Fame Game. Madden's lifetime take from his commentator's work easily exceeds $50 million.

He is the guy who hops on the bus and rides from city to city, often stopping at small towns along the way. (An avowed claustrophobic, Madden has not flown since Thanksgiving 1979.) But that's no ordinary bus: the 45-foot Maddencruiser, as it's known, comes equipped with three flat-screen plasma TVs, a steam shower and sauna and enough other goodies to jack up the price near the $1 million range -- underwritten, of course, by a corporate sponsor, currently Outback Steakhouse.

Madden describes the creation of his video game as something he basically blundered into, as if by some glorious accident. But this is no accident: The success of "Madden 07" will push the coach's all-time video sales well beyond 45 million units, and that is Madden himself behind the wheel, driving those sales.

Many former athletes become pitch-men and women for this product or that. Madden is a veritable pitch machine: Ace Hardware, Outback Steakhouse, Verizon Wireless, Rent-a-Center, Miller Lite, Sirius Satellite Radio, Tinactin. He is also the author or co-author of four best-selling books, including the accurately entitled, "Hey, Wait A Minute! I Wrote a Book!"

When he realized he was going to be spending significant time making commercials and doing shows, Madden built a production facility in Pleasanton, where he lives. Goal Line Productions, run by one of Madden's two sons, now boasts one of the largest sound stages in Northern California, and 80 percent of its use comes from outside clients.

The Madden family's other major company, Red Bear Property Development, is run by his other son and includes the prestigious Rose Hotel in downtown Pleasanton, along with a senior housing center in the area and numerous other local buildings.

He is ubiquitous, and that sort of thing doesn't happen except by design. His TV persona aside, Madden is no galoot. He may be the shrewdest one-man industry in football history.

Not bad for a guy who never played a down of professional football, who coached in the NFL for only a decade, and who hasn't been anywhere but the announcer's booth in more than 25 years. But ask around: For many people, Madden is the NFL.

"There is a difference, I think, between being simple and being a simpleton," says Benson, the linebacker who was, very essentially, the first NFL player John Madden ever coached.

"He (Madden) is simple. He's anything but a simpleton."

That is the beauty of Madden: He is living a Hall of Fame life while making it seem as though he somehow fell off the back of the truck into all this goodness. He's just so bloody normal about it all.

It is a trait that harkens back to his first days in the NFL, when Davis pulled him aboard as the Raiders' linebackers coach in 1967. On the first day of minicamp, Madden walked onto the field to discover that exactly one linebacker, Benson, had yet reported.

Madden had come equipped with a full ration of drills for his new charges, tricks to try on the vaunted Oakland offense. What to do?

"I ran him," Madden says with a chuckle. "I was doing the same amount of drills, at the same speed and pace, with one guy as I would had I had 15. I damn near killed Duane."

Says Benson: "I lost 18 pounds. It was a three-day camp."

But it forged a bond between Madden and Benson -- and beyond that, it revealed Madden for who he was. He had one speed as a coach, wide open, and he wasn't big on excuses. At the same time, he had a remarkable ability to grant personal latitude to his players so long as they performed on the field, a notion almost counter-intuitive to the lockstep world of pro football at the time.

When Davis made Madden the head coach in 1969, Madden was 32 years old and already possessed of his most important skill: He understood people because, deep down, he felt no different from any of them.

The story goes that Madden, in his first year as an unknown assistant coach, was given a sideline pass so that security guards wouldn't try to prevent him from going onto the field. A decade later, even after winning the 1977 Super Bowl, Madden still took the field each Sunday with a pass tied to a belt loop -- superstitious, perhaps, or simply aware of his roots.

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cont'd...

As a coach, Madden was famously lenient, giving rise to the Raiders' image as a rogues' gallery of misfits and goofs who happened to be able to play football. But the people who actually did the playing for him, and the winning, saw a method there.

"I didn't realize my potential as a player until I got to him," says Pat Toomay, the defensive end who starred for taskmaster Dallas coach Tom Landry before landing with the Raiders near the end of his career.

"He could see through whatever idiosyncracies a person had, and he was unique, in my experience, in that he saw people -- who they were," Toomay says. "His approach was, 'Tackle the guy with the ball.' Playing hard on Sunday was his thing. It was old-school stuff."

And it worked, largely because Madden never wavered from it. He did things differently than Al Davis would have done them, and he made room for his share of odd ducks, the Ted Hendrickses and Kenny Stablers and John Matuszaks.

But Madden also fostered a camaraderie that was rare among NFL coaches then, and certainly rarer now. His us-against-the-world philosophy coalesced a locker room filled more with men of character -- Otto, Gene Upshaw, Fred Biletnikoff, Art Shell -- than with characters who happened to be men.

A visitor in those days might be surprised to find Madden sitting in one of his players' dressing stalls, a cup of coffee resting on a nearby stool and the newspaper spread out in his large lap. He had the ability to pull that off -- he often asked his players what they thought about this story or that in the national news -- because it was so obviously who Madden was. There wasn't a false note sounded.

"His ability to coach that football team was just tremendous," says Shell, currently in his second incarnation as Davis' coach of choice. "He understood that this is a people game. He allowed the players to be themselves."

The result, Madden's style paired with the Raiders' talent, was the highest regular-season winning percentage in NFL history for a coach with more than 100 career victories. Madden's 10-year record was 103-32-7, a .759 clip.

Al Davis reveled in that, not merely in the record but in the Madden era. It was a time when the Raiders were regarded as the world's outlaws, and Madden made sure his team fed off that.

"(There was) the dislike of the Raiders when we went into all these stadiums," Davis says, "and here comes this big redhead, yelling and screaming on the sidelines. … We were a big team, very powerful, and (Madden) had to compete against all these big-time coaches -- all of 'em. And he was beating them all."

And it was only one part of the Madden persona. In 1978, New England receiver Darryl Stingley was dumped to the ground and paralyzed during a freak play in an exhibition game in Oakland. After the game, Madden went directly to the hospital, only to find Stingley alone -- the Patriots had had to board their plane and return home.

"So he would go up there all the time after that, to visit," says Toomay. "He never told anyone about it. In fact, he went up there one time and (Stingley's) intubator wasn't functioning properly, and he caught it. No one else had caught it."

It was, say those who know him, fairly typical Madden, certainly part of the persona that wove such a success out of his relatively brief coaching tenure.

"I've likened John's coaching career to Sandy Koufax's pitching career," says Al Michaels, Madden's broadcast partner. "It may not have been that long, but it was phenomenal.

"That's how I look at John, and combined with what he has done for the last 25 years as a broadcaster … he is as important a figure as anyone in the recent history of the NFL."

One of the enduring questions about Madden, in fact, is why it took the Hall of Fame so long to recognize his achievements. Two possible answers come to mind.

The first is that, for all the regular-season winning, Madden's teams suffered playoff heartbreak after heartbreak -- five AFC title-game defeats in a seven-year span -- before breaking through to win the Super Bowl after the 1976 season. That victory, Davis says, is the owner's happiest memory for Madden, "because I said right after the game that he took his place in the sun. He had reached the pinnacle of what he wanted to do."

(A corollary to that is the idea that many folks didn't expect Madden to stay retired from coaching, since he left at age 42. In truth, Madden says he hasn't missed it and never looked back; by the time he quit, he had developed an ulcer and said he felt 30 years older than he was.)

The second answer, of course, is Davis himself, and the impression (still held in many NFL corners) that Raiders coaches are but puppets of the grand master. Tom Flores, for his many Raiders victories and two Super Bowl titles, hasn't so much as sniffed an invitation from Canton.

Madden might never have, either, if not for the miracle of critical mass. He built his success year by year, as a coach and then a broadcaster, as a commercial pitchman and a video-game god -- but most of all as the great dependable brand of the game, big and outgoing, accessible and shrewd all at once.

"He never redesigned himself," says Benson. "He stayed himself."

Adds Toomay: "What he saw and loved was the joy of playing, the pure pleasure of the game. And his spectacular broadcasting success is due to the fact that he is so aware of human vulnerability."

Though he likes to think of it all as a happy accident, the truth is far more complex. Madden, for example, got the drop on the video-game industry because he and software specialist Trip Hawkins had long before developed a prototype, a computer game Madden wanted to use as a teaching tool.

All these years later, "Madden" isn't just a name or a person; it is a brand. It is the brand of the league, the NFL's most popular export. John Madden made that, and he did it with a purpose.

"I'm lucky," Madden says. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world. I never really had a job."

Only an industry, really.
 
Madden timeline

1936
• Born April 10, 1936, Austin, Minn. Later raised in Daly City.

1958
• Graduates from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo; drafted by Philadelphia Eagles as offensive tackle. Pro career ends in training camp with knee injury.

1963
• Hired by Don Coryell as defensive assistant at San Diego State.

1967
• Joins coaching staff of Oakland Raiders in charge of linebackers.

1969
• Chosen by Al Davis as head coach of Raiders, succeeding John Rauch, who resigns to take same position with Buffalo Bills. Named Coach of the Year by Pro Football Weekly after leading team to 12-1-1 regular-season record.

1977
• Raiders defeat Minnesota 32-14 in Super Bowl XI, giving Madden his lone NFL championship.

1979
• Retires from coaching at age 42, citing stress and burnout. Career regular-season record of 103-32-7 is best among NFL coaches with at least 100 victories.
• Joins CBS as NFL game analyst, beginning with backup broadcasts and soon moving to No. 1 announcing team alongside Pat Summerall.


1990
• Releases first edition of Madden NFL video game for EA Sports, designed to work on Apple II computer. Game, now in its 16th year, will go on to gross more than $1 billion in worldwide sales.

1994
• Leaves CBS for Fox Network, with Summerall, after Fox acquires rights to NFL. Madden's contract reported at $8 million per year.

2002
• Leaves Fox for ABC's Monday Night Football, paired with Al Michaels. Presented with Pete Rozelle Radio-Television Award from the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

2005
• Announces he will join NBC in 2006 to work Sunday night football telecasts.

2006
• Elected to Pro Football Hall of Fame after being nominated by veterans committee.
 
Hall is such a huge honor, Madden got on a plane

Nancy Gay

Saturday, August 5, 2006



(08-05) 04:00 PDT Canton, Ohio -- After 26 years of seeing his name come up for consideration for the Pro Football Hall of Fame, only to watch it tossed away in rejection, John Madden had grown a little frustrated. But he never gave up hope.

When that patience was finally rewarded, he made certain his closest family and friends wouldn't miss his induction today.

"I don't know how many there are actually. I know I got a planeload of 'em,'' Madden bragged Friday.

The last time the former Oakland Raiders coach and legendary broadcaster stepped foot on an airplane -- "I think it was 1979,'' the famous non-flyer confessed -- airport security consisted of a chain link fence around the runway.

So he was a little surprised Thursday at all the fuss when he wanted to step aboard the 150-passenger jet he chartered for friends and family after it landed in Canton so he could greet everyone over the intercom.

Security gate? What the heck was that?

"I hadn't been to an airport,'' said Madden, who set aside his phobias for this once-in-a-lifetime greeting. "I had to give them my license, for identification and I had to take off stuff and put it in the thing. I had to get a boarding pass! There was no, 'It's OK, he's Madden, let him through!' "

That's how important today is.

The Pro Football Hall of Fame will enshrine six new members, the largest group it can elect in a given year. It's a diverse, colorful class of great players, with tremendous character and vastly different paths to election.

Players became eligible for Hall of Fame consideration five years after their retirement. A panel of 39 men, all of them in the media, makes the selections.

The process can be swift or it can be excruciating for those who deserve recognition. Some of the voters are in their 70s and 80s. The youngest is in his late 40s. Some may have agendas for not wanting a particular player enshrined; others may lobby tirelessly to get a player the required 80 percent of the vote.

The wait varies. Quarterbacks Troy Aikman and Warren Moon and defensive end Reggie White, all of who are in the Class of '06, made it on their first ballot.

Aikman, the Cowboys' first-round pick in 1989, earned All-Rookie honors and then led Dallas to three Super Bowl victories. He won 90 games in the 1990s, making him the winningest starting quarterback of any decade.

Moon, the first African American quarterback to be enshrined, started his pro career in 1978 in the Canadian Football League, where he won five consecutive Grey Cups with the Edmonton Eskimos before signing as a free agent with the Houston Oilers. In his NFL career, Moon compiled 51,061 yards of total offense.

White, who died on Dec. 26, 2004, at the age of 43, a victim of heart disease and a respiratory attack caused by sleep apnea, was the dominant defensive lineman of his generation. He recorded 198 sacks, second on the all-time list, and received record 13 consecutive Pro Bowl selections. Sara White will receive the honor for her late husband today.

Others, such as Madden, former New York Giants linebacker Harry Carson and former Cowboys tackle Rayfield Wright, waited years for the honor. Their tolerance, for the process and the crushing annual snub, took its toll in different ways.

Madden -- who began coaching the Raiders at age 32 and compiled a .759 regular season winning percentage, the highest ever for a coach with 100 victories -- first became eligible for election in 1979. He was a finalist (among the top 15) twice and finally, after an impassioned plea from Hall of Fame selector and former Chronicle NFL columnist Ira Miller, Madden made the cut this past February.

Far from embittered because of the 27-year wait, Madden is simply thrilled to finally get a bust in Canton.

"You want to be there when you get there,'' Madden said of his lengthy road to the Hall.

Wright, a seniors' candidate, was a finalist twice before finally receiving recognition. The "Big Cat" was one of the most versatile NFL stars ever, playing tight end, defensive end and tackle during the first three years of his Dallas career (1967-79). During his time the Cowboys won 10 division titles and two Super Bowls.

In his mind, the magnitude of the honor erases the pain that came with 21 years of earlier rejection. "Everything that has happened in the past has basically gone away,'' Wright said Friday, "and that's a good thing.''

Carson is a little different.

He was one of the best run-stopping defenders of all time, earning nine Pro Bowl trips, including seven in a row, during a standout career with the New York Giants from 1976-1988. Carson became eligible for election to the Hall 13 years ago. Six times, he was a finalist.

The seventh time, this go-around, Carson turned off his cell phone and wasn't available to take the call last February when the news arrived that he finally had won election.

Tired of the suspense and the disappointment it caused his family, Carson wrote the selection committee in 2004 and asked that his name be removed from consideration. The Hall of Fame did not honor that request.

Finally, it honored him.

"As to whether it's worth the wait, I'd have to say and this is quite -- I'm being very candid, very honest with you -- it's something about turning 50 that you don't really worry about being validated,'' Carson said with a smile.

Later, as he sat on a podium in Canton with the other inductees, he held his first grandchild, 7-month-old Jamison, and cuddled her close. Carson's son, Donald, 23, who last December was diagnosed with aplastic anemia, a rare blood disorder, will present him today.

For all of that, his family's satisfaction, Carson absolutely beamed with pride. And the frustration was long forgotten.

"I'm glad I'm here, if only for them,'' Carson said.

All is forgiven. The wait for the Hall, however short or long, is well worth it.
 
Ex-Raiders flood Canton as Madden enters Hall

Bill Soliday






CANTON, Ohio — Tom Flores took the first professional snap from Jim Otto. He threw Fred Biletnikoff his first pass. He was an assistant to John Madden when the Raiders won their first Super Bowl and later won two of his own.
He and a flood of ex-Raiders will be on hand today to watch the former Raiders boss inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He won't be able to suppress the smiles that will go with it.

It's a Raider thing.

"It's great because we were all part of it," Flores said. "It's great because we are a family. It's really a neat thing — my first game ever as a head coach was the Hall of Fame game in 1979 against coach Tom Landry. It will be fun for me to broadcast the game and to watch John be inducted.

"How good is that?"

Madden doesn't just belong to Raider world. He is a national celebrity. Still, for Raiders fans everywhere, for "the family" and, of course, for Madden, it's about as good as it gets.

Madden says he feels like the luckiest guy in the world.

"I never really had a job," he said. "I was a football player, then a coach, then a broadcaster. Pro football has been my life since 1967, I've enjoyed every part of it. Never once did it ever feel like work."

Today he'll be one of six enshrinees to go into the Hall on what is called "Football's greatest weekend." He'll hardly need an introduction. Of all the 240 enshrinees, past and present, it could be argued Madden is the one the world feels it knows the best because of his universal stature in television.

But in the end, he belongs to Raider Nation.

Owner Al Davis, godfather of the family, will make the introduction, his ninth appearance on the steps as a presenter.

"Everyone I've had the opportunity to introduce I've had some kind of love affair with, other than maybe one," Davis said. "And I realize how important it is tothem to get into the Hall of Fame. I have to treat them individually, and yet I run into verbiage that is very similar from time to time because they all had certain qualities.

"They had a passion for football, loved the league, loved the team and they loved being Raiders."

That said, don't be surprised if the words "greatness of the Raiders" come up at some point.

Madden will be the 17th Raider to stand on the steps in Canton. Nine of them played for Madden during his brief 10-year stint as coach.

That period — and the Flores years that followed — represented a golden era, one the club is now trying to recapture.

"Our era was special," former quarterback Daryle Lamonica said. "You see it when we get together for a golf tournament or whatever. That camaraderie is still there. Pride and poise were more than just words to us. That was our way of life.

"We had a lot of different personalities, but come Sunday we were all bona fide football players and played hard to win. That's what John Madden brought to the table. He was a player's coach. We bitched at the time about running all those strides, going two-a-days from July 10 on. But we kept doing it until we did it right."

"John was something to see on the sideline," Hall of Fame wide receiver Fred Biletnikoff said. "He was an exciting coach and had a lot of passion on that sideline. We made a mark in football and he was our head coach."

Dozens of players from that era are in Canton to honor and remember the former coach they once chided by calling him "Pinky."

"I never called him that," said Otto, the Hall of Fame center known as Mr. Raider.

"John was a character," Hall of Fame cornerback Willie Brown said. "He kept us laughing. But he also kept us playing. That's the way he is. We loved him and the other teams and other fans hated him.





But when you win the way John won, everybody hates you."

Madden played on that hate, reminding his players they stood alone against the world.

"He would always say, 'Look guys, we're behind the eight ball and we've got to claw our way out,'" former Raiders linebacker Jeff Barnes said. "I hold to this day that it is true. But sometimes he would make a comment and we'd turn around and laugh, like 'Is he serious?'"

But when others attacked Madden it gave the Raiders a shot of adrenalin. Denver linebacker Tom Jackson once taunted Madden on the sidelines, pointing and jawing at him to "get off the field, fat man."

"We took that personally," Brown said. "You don't do that to a coach. We wanted to whip his butt, but we couldn't do it on the field. But you don't yell at John. John is the man.

"He had a lot of great ballplayers, and he got the best out of us. You have to have a great coach to put this many players in the Hall of Fame."

There were light moments along the way, often having to do with Madden's volatile temper. One of Flores' favorite stories occurred during a long forgotten game when Madden lost his temper just before halftime, stormed into the locker room and punched a wall.

"But the wall was brick," Flores said. "I came in and John said 'I think I broke my hand.' I said 'John, John, we have a second half to prepare for.' But his hand was killing him. Well, he didn't break it. We won the game and afterwards we were able to laugh about it."

Brown, who was as headstrong a Raider as there was, recalls being cussed out by Madden during practices.

"Guys didn't catch many passes on me in practice, but this particular time I was loafing," Brown said. "John jumped on my butt (so hard) that I went over to the sideline and sat down. He came over and said, 'What in hell are you doing? Get back in there.' John could have an attitude, now."

And he could be stubborn. Wide receiver Cliff Branch recalls when the team signed linebacker Ted Hendricks, who had already achieved NFL stardom in Baltimore and Green Bay.

"You bring in a Ted Hendricks or a Bubba Smith and you'd think they would put those guys right into the lineup," Branch said. "John always believed he still had to work his way into the lineup and prove he was a Raider. Me, I would have penciled them right in, but John wouldn't do that. You had to prove it to him and earn your respect."

His former Raiders always refer to Madden as "a player's coach" and it is fact Madden had a wild and crazy group that believed in "anything goes." There are discipline disciples who believe that meant Madden was soft. Some think he was a ringmaster more than a coach.

"He wasn't even close to that," Biletnikoff said. "You knew you had a great coach who knew how to handle people."

"It was 'be on time for meetings and go like hell on Sunday,'" Branch said. "Other than that, he gave us a lot of rope."

"He made it fun for us," current Raiders coach and Hall of Fame tackle Art Shell said. "He understood this is a people game and allowed players to be themselves. The players loved playing for him. All he asked was that we play like hell when it was time.

"We did that."
 
Crow mentioned this somewhere else but the part I really liked was when John asked his players to stand. Congrats John.
 
Yeah that was cool. But for me it was Al Davis...guy is relentless promoting the Raiders. He did a great job although I'm sure it pissed a lot of rival fans off.
 
Madden inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame

Nancy Gay

Saturday, August 5, 2006



(08-05) 13:44 PDT CANTON, OHIO -- Raiders owner Al Davis needed his walker, and a little extra time, Saturday to reach the podium at the Pro Football Hall of Fame stage. His mission, to introduce his most revered coach, John Madden, as part of the six-man Class of 2006, was paramount.

"Today is a very emotional and inspirational experience for me, to present the great John Madden into enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame,'' said Davis, a Hall of Famer himself who was introducing his ninth Raider into the prestigious fraternity.

Davis, 77, wearing a black suit and silver tie, his face pale and gaunt but his voice powerful, clear and unwavering, evoked memories of storied Raiders moments: The Immaculate Reception, the Heidi Game, the Sea of Hands, the Ghost to the Post. Davis ran about eight minutes longer than his allotted two minutes.

But the Raider Nation on hand in Canton, Ohio -- eager to relive the glory days of high jinks and championships that personified the Silver and Black of the 1960's and 70s -- loved every minute of it.

"Wow, wow, wow!" Madden, 70, said when he finally stepped before the microphone. "You always think of what it would be like if you're enshrined into the Hall of Fame, and people say what would you do when you get up to the podium.

"And I told 'em, 'I don't know. I'll tell you when I get there. And now ... I'm, like, numb.''

All the same, Madden, who spoke extemporaneously for about 17 and a half minutes, as he predicted he would, made certain the Hall of Famers that he coached, and the 30-plus other players he personally flew to Canton, would receive their just recognition for helping him achieve an honor he coveted for so long.

"I go into the Hall of Fame as a coach, but I know that I go into the Hall of Fame because of my players and what they did,'' Madden said.

He then gestured out into the crowd and asked his former players on hand -- Ben Davidson, Phil Villapiano, Cliff Branch, among others -- to join him in the moment.

"All of you, stand up! Stand up! My family! Stand up and just take your day!'' Madden told his players. They stood in appreciation.

"They're the guys that did all these things. ... No stay up! Stay up!'' Madden said, drawing huge laughs. "This is our day in the sun, so doggone it, take it! If we're here, you guys stand up and take it, too!"

Raised in Daly City and hired by Davis in 1969 to be the head coach of the Oakland Raiders when he was only 32 years old, Madden achieved a .759 winning percentage, the highest ever among coaches with 100 or more career victories. Under his direction, the Raiders never had a losing record and won seven division titles, made eight playoff appearances and won Super Bowl XI.

He coached for only 10 seasons, walked away from that part of his life and went straight to the broadcast booth, where he earned legendary status. Sunday night, Madden's career takes yet another turn, when he does his first NBC Sunday night football broadcast with longtime partner, Al Michaels.

In a fitting conclusion to an extraordinary weekend, Madden will call the Raiders-Philadelphia Eagles exhibition opener at Fawcett Field, which begins at 5 p.m. PDT.

"By the way, we have a game over here tomorrow night,'' Madden said. "So you talk about a full weekend ...''

Madden was enshrined along with former Giants linebacker Harry Carson; former Cowboys tackle Rayfield Wright; former Oilers, Vikings, Seahawks and Chiefs quarterback Warren Moon; former Eagles, Packers and Panthers defensive end Reggie White; and former Cowboys quarterback Troy Aikman.
 
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