On his bus headed to Canton, Ohio, for the Hall of Fame game in 2005, John Madden was talking about his favorite season — not spring or summer — but football season.
Sitting sideways in a diner-style booth, Madden told me how he awakens, almost like a bear from hibernation, as the N.F.L. season nears. He had recently been to a Chicago Bears practice at Soldier Field, his appetizer to a season’s meal.
“I know this comes off sounding phony,” he said as we rode on Interstate 80, “but there’s no better smell than that grass — and the smell of a baby’s head.