After Michael Vick scampers into the endzone to give the Atlanta Falcons a 7-0 lead, Brian Westbrook fields the kickoff from his own one-yard line. A quick stutter step gets him past the first of Atlanta’s gunners, and a second later he’s spinning his way towards the sideline. There’s nothing but daylight in front of him, and he proceeds to streak down the left side of the field. The crowd roars. With Westbrook at the thirty-yard line and safely on his way for a touchdown, Charles Wang, a 28-year old Baltimore video game store owner at the helm of the Eagles turns from the TV and screams to his detractors, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Someone in the crowd is not impressed. Wang turns around again, rattles off his phone number and implores the heckler to come over any time. The crowd gathered around loves it; it’s what the Madden Challenge is all about.
In its fourth year, the Madden Challenge, presented by EA Sports, attracts the top Madden players from around the country. This past weekend most of them converged on Union Station for the 10th stop of the 32-city tour. Each stop is a chance to showcase their skills and win a trip to Hawaii and the NFL’s Pro Bowl in February. There, the 32 winners will meet for the final tournament. But this is not about winning a free vacation, it’s about winning cash-$100,000, to be exact.
Since its inception in 1989, the Madden football series has been among the best-selling titles in video game history, racking up $1.5 billion in sales. When the newest installment was released in early August, the game sold 1.7 million copies in the first week alone, breaking its own record for single-week sales set the year before. The game itself is part of a larger industry that has grown exponentially in the past decade into a $10 billion retail behemoth.
With the growth of the industry has come the growth of Madden. What began as early as 1990 as gatherings of friends and informal leagues has become a highly-organized community. Arguably, the roots of a tangible framework can be traced to 1997 when Bobby Morgan created the Gametime Philly Ballers Club (GTP) serving Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware. The Baltimore Metropolitain Ballers followed suit, officially organizing in 1998. Since then, ballers clubs have sprouted up in 18 states all across the country, mostly in urban areas. All of the ballers clubs are under the umbrella organization known as the Ballers Club Alliance (BCA), which boasts a combined membership of over 30,000. The BCA lists national rankings and sanctions tournaments with uniform rules.
The ballers clubs are the glue of the community. They provide a place for the players to practice and talk shop with other junkies. Troy Brown, the winner of the Las Vegas Regional and a member of Da Firm who goes by the moniker “T-Roy,” explains the importance of the clubs.
“We play each other and tell each other what works and what doesn’t,” Brown said. “Those are the only guys I really talk with because I don’t really like giving out info. You tell one person and then they go tell everyone else.”
The ballers clubs’ purpose is most evident when watching a tournament like the Challenge this past weekend. Games between clubs became veritable screaming matches as each camp supported their members with enough trash talk to overflow the Potomac. Farouq Tauheed, who goes by “Da Troof,” is one of 10 EA Sports representatives working the tour. He recalled one such out-of-hand scene from the stop in New York.
“We had guys from Boston and Cincy and and they were really getting into it,” said Tauheed. “They were screaming at each other, pushing, almost coming to blows, and when it was over there was nothing but respect.”
According to Tauheed, most of the guys who play do it to gain the respect of the other ballers. He recalled another story where he saw one baller declare, “I don’t care about the money, as long as I beat him!”
The actual ballers, however, seem to be motivated by something more than just simple pride and ego. Eugene Williams, a member of GTP who goes by the moniker “Big Gene,” is the Madden Challenge’s defending champion, after winning last year’s prize of $50,000. Having already won this year’s Kansas City regional and a trip to Hawaii, Williams was on hand to support other members of GTP. He describes Madden as a job to him, one that he works very hard at. To him, the money is definitely the motivating factor.
“If I could get $100,000 for 32nd place, I’d take it every time,” Williams said.
Through the BCA and its regional ballers clubs, tournaments are held regularly. Although the Madden Challenge clearly has the largest payday, there are enough other tournaments that a good player could make a liveable income. Many, such as the MegaBowl, held this past April in Las Vegas and won by Saturday’s winner Justin Chow, can pay out as much as $10,000. Other regional tournaments have purses that regularly amount to between one and five thousand dollars.
“If you win a few tournaments, you’re looking at 20 to 30 grand easily,” according to James Lowe, known as “Big Game James,” and one of the BCA’s higher ranked ballers. He should know too; he won the 2004 Nationals
That assessment does not even begin to take into account the high-stakes money games that exist on the tournament circuit. As Saturday’s action wound down, one could already hear players making arrangements for money games that night since most were planning on staying in the area for Sunday’s tournament in Baltimore. Understandably, nobody was anxious to talk about the stakes.
Dan Grundei goes by the name “Clark Kent” and in his glasses looks very much the Man of Steel’s alter ego. Grundei, who runs a website, maddenauthority.com, offered some insight into the money games, of which he does not partake.
“I’ve seen as much as 15 grand stacked on top of a TV, staked by 10 or 12 people,” said Grundei.
Brown, who, like Williams, describes Madden as a job, has won as much as $1,200 on a single game. His biggest loss?
“At the Nationals last year in Miami, I lost $1,500 on a game,” Brown said. “I was already up $3,000, so it wasn’t really a loss,” he added flippantly.
By this point, you casual players may think that because you can lick a few guys from your floor you could easily handle the competition the ballers present. Make no mistake-these ballers call it their job and with good reason.
Most, if not all, serious ballers put in several hours a day practicing, but practice does not mean grabbing a few friends and kicking the loser off. Brown, a senior at Texas Southern, rarely even plays games. Instead, he spends his time “labbing” in the game’s practice mode.
“When I do that,” Brown said, “I’m just running plays and figuring out how to beat certain defenses.”
Chow, who doesn’t have internet and can’t play online, works on the timing of plays, “to a point where I can do it with my eyes closed.”
With all the time needed to truly be competitive, it is understandable that youth dominates, despite the fact that more than half of gamers now are over 18. According to the Entertainment Software Association, the average age of video game players is 29 years old.
Michael Taylor, better known as “Curly Top,” used to be a regular on the Madden circuit. Now 34, he’s currently part of the EA crew that runs the Challenge, working as the emcee. The time required to play, he says, is just too great.
“I have a full-time job, I’m a provider, a father, and you can’t win like that,” Taylor said. “These college kids and 15-year olds are dominating. All they have to do is go home and clean their room.”
Anthony Brinson, known as “Young Nephew,” appears to be your average 16-year-old from Trenton, NJ. A member of the Manhattan-based World Wide Assassins (WWA), he says his only impediment to practicing is homework. After that, he’s free to practice throughout the night. And it has paid off. Last year, Brinson won New York, only to lose to Big Gene in the semi-finals in Las Vegas.
See “Madden” on p. 14
Earlier this month, Brinson won the Philadelphia regional and eagerly awaits Hawaii. His 15-year-old cousin, Kevin Merritt, known as “Nine Lives,” beat out the largest regional field of 1,024 competitors and was crowned the King of New York just a day before. Both see their youth as an advantage.
“The older guys have jobs and other stuff, so they can’t always put in the time,” Brinson said.
Brown, however, sees his age as experience that can be valuable.
“I played football through my freshman year of college, so I try to take some of those things and bring them to the game,” Brown said.
Lowe is equally adamant about his age being a factor.
“The older guys, we know football,” Lowe said. “It’s easy to strategize because these kids just play.”
Brown and Lowe’s points fall on deaf ears, however, when one considers the results so far through barely half of the Madden Challenge tour. Brown and Williams, both 21, and Chow, 20, are the only regional winners in their twenties. The other eight winners are all still in their teens.
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As the day wears on, the field is narrowed to a final 32 that consists mainly of ballers. A heated game in the round of 16 draws the biggest crowd, as “Boogieman” from GTP and “Iffy” of WWA square off in front of a crowd 10-deep. The noise level is ridiculous as both camps trade barbs, most from “Putt” of GTP who constantly reminds the crowd, “He’s Iffy!” The rivalry is intense, although Big Gene will later say, in an act of gamesmanship, that the rivalry is not as intense as it seems since GTP is clearly a cut above, having won or been in the finals every year.
By the time the finals arrive, it is past five o’clock. Eight hours of game play, and only Chow and Grundei remain. For Grundei, the finals appearance is his second of the tour and ninth overall since the Challenge started four years ago. He has yet to win the coveted regional and this day will be no different. Chow’s Raiders shut out Grundei’s Eagles by a score of 17-0.
As the game wraps up, the different camps begin making plans for the night. Some will go out, some will meet at hotels or houses to play for some pocket change, or more as the case may be. And tomorrow, they will do it all over again, for whatever their reasons.
“Oh, I play for money more than pride,” Brown said. “But pride definitely has a lot to do with it.”
