As someone who covers the
world of entertainment, writing celebrity obituaries is often one of
the down sides of my career. I have loved music for so long that
these public figures are often a part of my childhood and upbringing
– in one form or the other.
Today, I am reflecting on
someone who has touched my life in a less obvious, more subtle way.
Steve Sabol, longtime head of NFL Films, died yesterday at the age of
69 due to brain cancer. His father, Ed, was a pioneer in filming the
league, and how the sport was presented, and to say that Ed followed
in his footsteps is putting it rather lightly.
He went to work for the
league in the early 1960s, and it was his unique artistic touch that
shaped the way we would look at game highlights from the NFL. Hank
Stram’s “65 Toss Power Trap” in Super Bowl IV. The Immaculate
Reception. Montana to Clark. Barry Sanders’ twists and turns while
making the run look like an art himself. Sabol and his staff changed
the way we watch sports. In a sense, (and for sports fans, I don’t
think this is an exaggeration) he and his father were the Walt Disney
of his genre. To think of a generation of NFL highlight films without
that voice, while something that is inevitable, is something that
makes me (and all sports fans) a little somber today.
I want to close out this
entry with something that Sabol wrote years ago. It was in tribute to
the Oakland Raiders, but I dare say all football fans can identify. I
wish I had half the imagination to write something as moving. It’s
called “The Autumn Wind Is A Pirate.”
Blustering in from the sea
With a rollicking song he sweeps along
Swaggering boisterously
His face is weatherbeaten
He wears a hooded sash
With a silver hat about his head
And a bristling black mustache
He growls as he storms the country
A villain big and bold
And the trees all shake and quiver and quake
As he robs them of their gold
The Autumn wind is a Raider
Pillaging just for fun
He’ll knock you ‘round and upside down
And laugh when he’s conquered and won.
Brilliance, pure and simple. RIP, Steve Sabol, and thanks for the memories.
