#75

My earliest recollection of watching sports was the 1985 NFC Championship game in which the Bears were shutout 23-0 by the eventual Super Bowl champion 49ers. I do not remember anything about the game specifically other than it was a shutout and my parents were disappointed that the Bears had lost. For all I know, Joe Montana could have thrown four interceptions in that game or a cougar could have wandered onto the field and tried to kill Keena Turner.

The following year, of course, would be the year that the Bears throttled everyone (save for that traumatic Monday night game against the Dolphins) on their way to a Super Bowl and my love and fascination for the NFL was beginning to peak. It is easy to relay my love for the NFL but my fascination of it requires its own expansion.

We inherently know that an NFL game is dangerous and that on any given play someone can be injured and their career might be over as a result of it. What fascinates me most about the NFL is that it, more so than any other American sport, resembles a fluid organism when everyone is in motion. As soon as the ball is snapped one set of eleven players begin to run a scheme that, for the most part, the other set of eleven set of players are unaware of. A team’s defense may be able to guess if the opponent’s offense is going to run or to pass but they will never be one hundred percent certain, just as said offense may think that the defense may or may not blitz. At the heart of this football organism lies the offensive line—the single most important factor in any football game. The offensive line can swing the momentum of an entire game based on one badly-timed missed block or one perfectly executed block.

When I was growing up I knew that Anthony Muñoz was probably the greatest offensive lineman in the history of the NFL. But, like the particulars of that Bears 23-0 defeat to the 49ers, I did not consciously know this as Muñoz’s rookie year was in 1980. Almost every NFL analyst, coach, and opposing player, however, said that Muñoz was one of the best and that was enough proof for me. In an era that Lawrence Taylor helped usher—ultra-fast linebackers who could also line up at defensive end and get around the corner of a tackle—Muñoz was capable of keeping up with the shift in the new defensive schemes. He was 6′ 6″ and weighed 280 pounds when he was drafted and he became the prototypical offensive lineman for the modern era. Before Muñoz, offensive linemen (especially tackles) were typically built like walls—strong, but slow.

I bring up Muñoz because yesterday Jonathan Ogden announced his retirement and Ogden is the Anthony Muñoz of this generation. Ogden, like Muñoz, played his entire career with one organization and, like Muñoz, has redefined the left tackle position. Ogden was the first draft pick of the Baltimore Ravens organization in 1996 and he stood at 6′ 9″ and weighed three hundred thirty pounds. And he was agile.

The 2000 Baltimore Ravens are probably my least favorite Super Bowl champions (after the Broncos teams that helped Elway win a championship) but Ogden was the sole player whom I wanted to see win a ring from that team. Jonathan Ogden will be a first ballot Hall of Famer and rightfully so, in spite of the fact that offensive linemen are typically overlooked because the nature of that position makes it almost impossible to divine success- or failure-based statistics like you can with other positions.

The left tackle position may be overlooked by the Hall of Fame and the casual fan but Ogden, like Muñoz, were forces of nature and were so great that other teams simply had to fall into line and start seriously scouting the position or be caught dead by ignoring it. All you need to know about how great Ogden was in his prime is that Dwight Freeney basically made his name a household one amongst other teams when he was able to beat Ogden off a snap in a 2002 game. That says everything right there: the league thought of Freeney as a legitimate threat once he beat the best lineman in the game.

If there is any common sense left in the world, Jonathan Ogden is inducted into the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility and the Ravens retire his number as soon as humanly possible. He may not have been the face of the Ravens organization but he was the most significant part of their success on offense as he overwhelmed almost everyone he ever lined up against. Any snap in any NFL game starts with five offensive linemen constantly reacting and attacking any and all defensive opponents and no matter who the Ravens fielded on offense (who was their #2 receiver during their Super Bowl run?) Ogden was a wall of a man who most times could not be budged.

All across America, there are high school and college kids who want to be the next Jonathan Ogden. A good number of them will also want to wear #75 on their jerseys too in honor of him too. People who follow the NFL regularly will know where Ogden ranks all-time, whereas people who are still young or are just recently getting into the NFL may be unaware of how great he was.

So, let me put it to you this way: if the 1984 Bears had Jonathan Ogden they probably would have won that game. And he probably could have killed that cougar too (had it really wandered on to the field).