Published: February 02, 2010 07:00 pm      

Back when football was electrifying

With millions watching, and $3-million-for-30-seconds commercials, the Super Bowl is an electrifying event.

NFL jersey-wearing fans and power-suit TV network executives will be abuzz Sunday over this annual spectacle. I'm just hoping to score the electrical outlet plug-in version.

While the Indianapolis Colts and New Orleans Saints square off for Roman numeral battle XLIV, Super Bowl sparks have already flown. Last month, the Miggle Electric Football Championship was held in Columbus, Ohio; no word on the final score or any banned Tim Tebow ads.

Electric football -- talk about good vibrations from the past.

Watching the likes of Mean Joe Green and Roger Staubach, there was no greater homage to the big game than electric football. Of course, just like the AFC/NFC version, electric Super Bowl rarely lived up to the hype -- or hyper pre-teen boys.

At least there wasn't a cheesy halftime show; our attention deficit usual kicked in shortly after the opening kick off.

First manufactured by Tudor Games in 1947, the tabletop electric football game was crude by today's Xbox 360 standards. Although there was something magical about that metallic hum; even if it did drown out your 8-track tapes.

While not AstroTurf, the electric football field was fake -- plastic players, cutout stands and painted-on crowds. However, watching your halfback run into the wrong end zone -- that pain is real.

Unlike Peyton Manning barking audibles, electric football is easy to follow. You line up the players, hit a switch that turns on an electric motor under the metal field, and then watch chaos ensue.

No matter how you drew it up on the sideline, this was the on-field reality: linemen block the field goal post, wide receivers spin in circles and running backs buzz in place. Or as Detroit Lions fans call it, a positive play from scrimmage.

As for the forward pass, only the most brazen would attempt this move. After all, the Triple Threat Quarterback had a cannon for an arm -- but with Civil War accuracy. The felt football was more apt to disappear into the shag carpet than land remotely near your intended receiver.

While electric football offered little insight into nickle defense, it did teach us about disappointment. We realized that we were just tiny linemen banging our heads against an immovable object; subject to the whims of the electric motor of life.

Which is why every electric Super Bowl ended the same -- crank up the speed control and turn Lambeau Field into a mosh pit. Even a few plastic Army men ended up on the 50-yard line shaking their bazooka.

Of course, the televised Super Bowls rarely reach that level of on-field electricity. Although if I get my hands on the plug-in tabletop version, I might be abuzz for days.