Jim Nantz and Madden NFL 13: In the Game, but Not Too Far in the Game

Known for his NFL play-by-play work, as well as that in pro golf and college basketball, Jim Nantz has long been a curator of sports moments. Since joining CBS in 1985, the North Carolina native has enjoyed a ringside seat to sports history: Jack Nicklaus winning the 1986 Masters. Tiger Woods' win in 1997. The Saints winning their first Super Bowl.

Those were all genuine "Where were you when..." moments in sports. And while Nantz has been known to put his stamp on a moment—"framing it," to use his words—he has never overshadowed it. He simply marinates it in that warm, effortless voice of his. It's the kind of voice that could tuck you into bed at night. Words are his currency, and they are more crisp than anything pulled out of an ATM.

So it seemed odd that Nantz would lend his voice to Electronic Arts for the latest edition of its Madden NFL series. Nantz first joined Electronic Arts to do voice work on Tiger Woods PGA Tour 12. When EA began looking for a new voice for its flagship football game, it didn't have to look far. I had a chance to talk to Nantz one-on-one via phone earlier in the week about his involvement in the game. 

"I'm thrilled to be a part of Madden," he told me. "I know how big a deal it is around the world."

The oddity stems from the contrast of generations, Nantz's and those enticed to buy this year's game. Other aspects of the new version seem more...dignified. The hip-hop tracks that played over the game's menu screens have been replaced by booming, symphonic music that you'd expect to hear from an NFL presentation.

It sets the stage for a game ripe with genuine moments.

"Walking the NFL landscape for 20 consecutive weeks, which I'm about to do, it's amazing how often you hear the players, the actual players [in the NFL] talking about it," Nantz said. "There was only one way that I wanted to be a part of it, and that was if we could really make this thing the most authentic game they ever had."

Authentic seems like a good description of Nantz's work. He has an awareness of potential intrusion into the moment, toeing the line between framing the moment and trampling it. Nantz would never say, "This is for all the Tostitos," as Brent Musburger did before the pivotal play in the 2011 BCS National Championship Game.

"I always think about the person at home [watching the game]. I want to be a part of the broadcast. I don't want the broadcast to be about me," he said. "And Phil [Simms, his color commentator] approaches it the exact same way."

"If we're crossing that line, and having people walking away from the television saying more about the broadcasters than about the actual game, then I don't think we're doing our job. That's just my belief."

It's impossible to hear this and not think of former CBS play-by-play man Gus Johnson, who lent his voice to the last two iterations of the Madden game. Johnson, now with Fox Sports, will call football games for the NFL and the Big Ten this season.

Johnson brings a high-decibel brand of passion, unapologetically, to every event that he covers. Every event. An ACC title game in basketball would be indistinguishable from a half-court game of hoops at the nearby park, if only listening to Johnson's voice. That's what you get with Gus, and he is beloved for it. While "the Internet" has gone out of its way to bash Chris Berman and Dick Vitale, Johnson not only gets a pass but is largely revered.

Nantz, to be fair, does get a lot of attention for his calls at the end of the NCAA basketball championships. And he has pushed out some groaners in those games.

"It's an old-fashioned approach to the business," he said. "I'm not asking for attention. I'm not trying to come up with some outrageous, profound proclamation that's gonna get 25 people writing about me the next day. I feel like the game is sacred. We want to lend a little personality, but not cross the line."

Nantz drove home the point when discussing where that line was in 13. "We didn't want to say stupid things that you would never hear us say on a CBS broadcast." Well, then.

I give Nantz the benefit of the doubt here. He's a guy who went to work one day in 1992 and watched his college suitemate win the Masters. When he interviewed Fred Couples in Butler Cabin after that Sunday round, he acknowledged the moment but didn't make the moment about himself. 

Nantz and Simms, the former New York Giants quarterback, will be entering their ninth NFL season working together for CBS. Simms' likeness actually has appeared in the game before (as a member of the Jets, oddly enough, in the 1994 version of the game, during his last year in the league as a player).

Nantz and Simms did plenty of talking on their own this past offseason. They recorded over 80 hours' worth of dialogue for the game. "We didn't record it all together, but a good chunk of it [we did]," Nantz said.

The result is a fluid back-and-forth exchange that would entice longtime players to consider flipping off the commentary mute in the audio settings. There's less emphasis on whether Santonio Holmes caught a pass for 21 yards or 22 yards, and more emphasis on unfolding a narrative over the course of a game. It does have an occasional hiccup (Simms scolding a quarterback after clocking a ball, for example, because he couldn't find the open receiver), but unlike in previous years, the commentary in 13 is integral.

It's a manufactured algorithm of sound that doesn't feel manufactured. Pure Jim Nantz.

Since we're discussing the game, I have a few Get Off My Lawn gripes about it. First off, the in-game menus are insufferable, and in this iteration of the game, they're even worse. The main menu (at least on the Xbox 360) has been redesigned to accommodate the Microsoft Kinect, which I don't own, so everything's big and boxy.

Instead of using left- and right-bumper to navigate through menu screens as you would on the Xbox dashboard, you'll use a lot of right-stick to get around the menu. And this rant is a bit dated now, but whoever conceived the idea of holding down left- or right-trigger to flip through one's rosters by position should be locked in a Radio Shack for the balance of his or her life.

One more thing. About Madden's demo mode, the de facto game that starts up whenever your controller sits idly by for too long: It's almost perfect this year. Almost. On passing plays, the camera angle still maintains a precision track on the ball. So instead of watching a five-and-in with a smooth pan downfield, we're left with a clip from Cloverfield. Seems like an easy fix, but I'll finally digress.

The book on Madden for the longest time was how little the title seemed to change from year to year. Having now owned the game for three consecutive years, I think those allegations can finally be put to rest. I saw significant improvements from 11 to 12. The jump from 12 to 13 is even greater. This looks, this feels, like a completely different game.

A lot of that difference is the game play, with that new physics engine and some seriously revamped passing controls. A lot of it is the audio, which also enjoyed an impressive overhaul, from the sounds imported from NFL Films to the actual voices and cadences of 12 different NFL quarterbacks. But some of that also is Nantz, whose smooth delivery fronts the best presentation this franchise has ever produced.

One last thing about the game: The weirdest collision animation I saw after turning on Madden NFL 13 didn't happen on the football field.

Never mind the fact that, with the game's new physics engine, all of the old tackling animations have been replaced. Instead of linebackers falling into predetermined, choreographed animations upon impact with ball-carriers, each tackle in the game is a fluid, unique interaction. Unlike earlier iterations of Madden, no two tackles on the field will ever look the same.

But one collision animation—a new one—did run in the pregame segment, when a digitized Jim Nantz turned to broadcast partner Phil Simms and popped him with a playful forearm shiver. Hey, buddy. It's an oddly endearing moment, one that nearly had me dropping my Xbox 360 remote to grab the three of us a round of beers from the fridge. 

Hello friends, indeed.