John Riordan: Jim Sherwin and John Madden sign off in unison and leave behind unique legacies
END OF AN ERA: Jim Sherwin commentates on his last rugby game for RTĂ, the 2004 Six Nations match between Ireland and Scotland at Lansdowne Road. He died earlier this week, aged 81, following a short illness. Picture: David Maher/Sportsfile
Winter 2009 brought a freak snowstorm that completely shut down a totally ill-prepared London and I was forced to impose myself for one extra night at my cousin Paddyâs house in Maida Vale.
The reason for the trip was a lads excursion to a scoreless draw at Loftus Road between QPR and Reading on the Saturday afternoon which preceded Sundayâs freak weather event. Thankfully the weekend ended with a much more memorable sporting occasion played out over 4,000 miles away: The last ever John Madden Super Bowl.
At first, it was thrilling to watch the snow fall outside whatever bar was giving us shelter and in hindsight the bitter cold and the messy conditions were appropriately Madden-esque; he loved to watch players overcome what the deep winter threw at them.
But I wasnât his type of athlete so when about a foot of snow fell within hours and taxis stopped picking up people, it was panic stations. My only option was to trudge home through the by now abandoned streets with a very vague idea of how to do that.
How I found Paddyâs place, Iâll never know but of course the benefits of time difference meant I was able to get back there well in time for kick-off.
The Pittsburgh Steelers beat the Arizona Cardinals, quarterback Ben Roethlisberger was earning his second ring and victorious coach Mike Tomlin was now the youngest to ever achieve this accolade. Pretty much an ideal John Madden outcome.
Iâd be lying if I said I remember anything about the colour commentatorâs contribution to that night except of course for his unmistakable visual presence; huge frame and big hair, ever the human embodiment of American football.
The NFLâs iconic coach, TV analyst, and unique innovator died earlier this week at the age of 85, leaving behind a legacy as heavy as the offensive linemen he taught America to idolise.
This paper carried a comprehensive obituary which I was absolutely delighted to see. Even if heâs not a household name throughout Ireland, it was the right call to pay tribute and highlight his Hall of Fame contribution to the NFL over the course of almost six decades.
Go read that if you get a chance but Iâll try and fit in the cliff notes here: Madden won a Super Bowl as head coach of the Oakland Raiders in the 70s before pivoting dramatically to the commentary booth in 1979, having retired relatively suddenly at the age of 42. He cited the gruelling demands of a decade in the hot seat and it didnât help that he had a fear of flying.
That phobia inspired a hallmark of his television career â a tour bus which took him from game to game, offering a perfectly marketable production angle â and his uniquely energetic approach quickly gripped viewers of all ages. He had a knack for breaking down plays in a way never seen before and of course he pioneered the âtelestratorâ, drawing wild lines and circles on the screen to illustrate his points, something RTĂ would adapt to help Dunphy and Giles build up their own popularity.
When Rupert Murdoch and Fox muscled their way into the NFL TV rights market in the mid 90s, they poached Madden in what was a truly singular sign of intent. Murdoch met personally with his prized target and successfully wooed him with a $32m (âŹ28.2m) contract offer. To this day, Fox Sports is still the NFC broadcaster (CBS has the AFC) with Super Bowls rotating between them, NBC and CBS.
Madden ended his TV career at NBCâs Sunday Night Football and the aforementioned Super Bowl XLIII was his swansong.
Weaved throughout it all, the ever astute Madden helped generate over $7bn (âŹ6.1bn) in revenue to EA Sports with the world famous Madden video game series.
As fate would have it, Fox Sports had just this year commissioned a tribute documentary called âAll Maddenâ, telling his story and bringing together some big names to celebrate his career. It was broadcast this past weekend on Christmas Day in the US and has since been made more widely available â on repeat â out of respect. I sought it out as soon as I landed back in New York on Wednesday and itâs great viewing, especially for someone like me who didnât grow up watching him. Further poignancy is the choice to ask the biggest names in the game to speak directly to camera and pay tribute to Madden who watches from his home state of California while surrounded by an impressive set design. It would become apparent within days that the producers couldnât have chosen a better time to do this.
When news of his sad demise began to filter through from the US, I was once again stuck in no manâs land although this time it was the railway line between Cork and Dublin. Marooned for four hours on Tuesday afternoon on a broken down train just outside Portlaoise, there was enough time for not one but two TV personality death notices. This was when we all started to learn of the death of Jim Sherwin.
Madden and Sherwin couldnât have occupied two more contrasting ends of the sports commentary spectrum but I feel as though the fact that the similarly aged men both passed away within a day of each other this week was too much of a sad and poetic coincidence.
In their own ways, the public lives they lived well yielded particularly fond memories for a specific generation of sports fan that came of age in the 80s and 90s. Madden, the All-American pioneering NFL broadcaster, and Sherwin, the all-rounder epitome of smooth during the Montrose glory years. They each earned long-lasting recognition for their work and this was reflected in the warm tributes which greeted the announcement of each of their deaths.
Admittedly, the unwavering devotion of US viewers to the former far outweighed the more measured respect Irish viewers maintained for the latter but they both firmly etched themselves into the archives of their respective markets in their own unique way.
There was a contrast in styles too. Madden was all action at his peak while Sherwin eased his way along, contently delivering tennis matches to us or presenting the weekend sports highlights from the comfort of the studio.
They both managed to attract seasoned spectators as well as us viewers from a newer generation, quite a bit younger and with insatiable appetites. This was of course all during an era when our elders didnât need to fight so much for our attention and respect.
Even their roles were different: Sherwin was the focal point as presenter or lead commentator while colour commentator Madden was the best supporting actor, delivering quick analysis and quick banter when he held the microphone in front of him.
Unlike Sherwin, Madden wasnât a media thoroughbred. He enjoyed an opening act as a Super Bowl winning coach before he turned his hand and more importantly his expert eye to NFL commentary where he became iconic as an Xs and Os strategy and tactics guru, helping wide-eyed American viewers understand the intricate chess moves hidden beneath the brutality of the gridiron.
I was personally mesmerised by the ease with which Sherwin would take his turn at whichever Olympics Track and Field event the live feed switched to and I know I was especially impressionable while watching Barcelona 92 on our tiny TV.
Itâs almost unfair on Sherwin that Maddenâs third act is, in many ways, what he is best known for these days. Nobody should be expected to have lightning strike three times but thatâs precisely what Madden did when he saw fit to permit his name to be attached to the NFLâs move into the gaming industry in the late 80s.
Even we young ones in 1990s Ireland yearned to âplay Maddenâ on our consoles without knowing the origin story of the Irish-sounding branding. The internet was certainly years away from being widely available in each of our houses so we wouldnât have been able to google the full story.
Nor would the name of the silky sounding fella who guided us through Wimbledon or the swim heats trip off our tongues.
They embedded themselves in our consciousness during a time when viewing options were limited and snark was unheard of. I donât know what it means that we lost them on the final week of a woeful year but itâs a real shame that Jim Sherwin and John Madden couldnât have signed off during a better one.
- @JohnWRiordan
