This might come as a total shock, but when I was a kid, my favorite thing about playing football was . . . fear. In a lot of ways, I loved being afraid. My friends and I used to play football, or when we had too many kids for that, a game called "pig pile," where one person carried the football and all the other players chased and tried to tackle him. When he was finally brought to the ground, he would toss the ball up in the air and some other brave soul would pick it up and run for as long as possible before he was tackled. When I was the one being chased, every second was filled with the fear of being taken down hard to the ground.

But here''s the part that made being afraid fun. Are you ready? It was laughing at the fear! I know that might seem odd, so let me explain: We all know the goal of football is to score touchdowns and prevent the other team from scoring. Defenses love trying to intimidate offenses. I played running back, wide receiver, and even quarterback sometimes. I remember how big some of the other kids were. I remember how they would stand on the other side of the line and try to scare me. You are a dead man if you touch that ball. I''m gonna squash you like a bug .

 . . The quarterback would hand me the ball and I would see the defense race toward me, charging and snarling. Here they came, trying to make good on their promises to indeed squash me like a bug, and the fear would kick in. So I ran. And I dodged. And I spun. And I realized that I was fast ! I would score a touchdown and the guys who told me I was a dead man would get mad because not only was I very much alive, but my team was winning and theirs was losing! So yeah, big kids were stronger than me, but I was faster.

Even so, sometimes I got hit, and they would smile and talk trash while I was down ( Who''s smiling now? ), but I always got up. What started as an exercise in fear turned into a little game of me betting that I could be faster than everyone. And, when necessary, proving I could take a hit and still get back up. These were the challenges of football. Speed against strength. Fear against courage. I loved it all. And it was just as much fun to watch on TV as it was to play, for so many reasons.

I loved the NFL uniforms, particularly the helmets. I grew up in Boston and the original Patriots logo was the hardest logo in sports to draw. Believe me--I tried a lot. Most of all, I loved the competition, the way the Steelers, Dolphins, Raiders, Vikings, and Cowboys ruled the game and always seemed to end up having to beat each other to get to the Super Bowl. My childhood team, the Patriots, could never beat those other guys, but I rooted for them just the same. I rooted for players because I loved how they moved, how the really fast guys would just break away from defenders after a long reception, reach the end zone, and dance in celebration. The Dallas Cowboys became my adoptive team because I loved the great quarterback Roger Staubach and running back Tony Dorsett. Later, I couldn''t help but admire the historic San Francisco 49ers dynasty of the 1980s, the way their innovative offense and always-cool quarterback Joe Montana seemed unstoppable whenever a game was on the line.

The game has continued to change over the years. When I was a kid, I used to come home from playing football with my shirt ripped and my clothing covered in dirt and grass stains. My friends and I played tackle with no helmets, and even if you banged heads with another kid, people just told us to "shake it off." Today we know that the players are so strong that getting hit and tackled that many times hurts not just the body but the brain. There is no such thing as a minor injury to the brain. Because we understand more about these injury risks, because the game is potentially so dangerous, many parents no longer let their kids play football the way I used to. So while I still enjoy watching the game on TV, more than anything these days I hope that the skilled people playing it remain safe. Other shifts in attitude have taken place, as well.

Some of the sport''s traditions are no longer acceptable in today''s society. For example, even though "Redskins" is still the nickname of the Washington football team, I do not use that word in this book because I consider it to be offensive to all people of Native American descent, as well as demeaning to the people using the term. Throughout the book, therefore, I refer to the team as "Washington." This is a book not only of football legends--but of the legend of pro football. It is this country''s most popular sport. While the game has been played since the late 1800s, for the sake of this book we begin when two rival leagues, the National Football League and the American Football League, became one in 1970. The only exception to this rule can be found in the Timeline of Football''s Key Moments at the end of the book, which includes older events that were too important to leave out. Above all else, though, this book is a tribute to the Super Bowl, which began as a little-watched championship between the two leagues in 1967, only to evolve into the most popular sporting event in America.

And it continues to evolve--2016 marks the first Super Bowl that will be numbered with Arabic numerals (i.e. "Super Bowl 50") instead of Roman numerals ("Super Bowl L"), which have been in use since the first Super Bowl. Through the lens of the Super Bowl, this book is about the rise of dynasties and the fall of giants. If the book had been written thirty years ago, for instance, the Miami Dolphins would''ve been a really big part of it and the Patriots wouldn''t have been mentioned at all, because back then Miami was so good . . . and the Patriots? The Patriots were gum on the bottom of your shoe, stepped on by everyone.

Times change, and now the Patriots are one of the great franchises in history. Miami, meanwhile, hasn''t been to a Super Bowl since 1984 and hasn''t won one since 1973. In the NFL, it''s all about the Super Bowl.     SUPER BOWL I A NEW DAY GREEN BAY PACKERS VS. KANSAS CITY CHIEFS There was nothing super about Super Bowl I. The biggest game of the year wasn''t even called the Super Bowl at first. That would come later. Before there was the National Football League as we know it today, two leagues coexisted, sometimes in the same city, and they didn''t like each other.

The first was the National Football League, founded in 1920 and--save for a brief rival league called the AAFC in the 1940s that created the Baltimore Colts, San Francisco 49ers, and Cleveland Browns--they went unchallenged as the only professional football league in America for forty years. The second was the American Football League, founded in 1960 as a challenger to the NFL. It brought the sport to cities like Boston, Kansas City, Denver, and Houston that did not have pro football teams in the National Football League. Football off the field in the 1960s was dominated by the AFL-NFL rivalry. The NFL laughed at the new league, because surely it was inferior to the great teams of the NFL. But over the next few years, the AFL gained credibility and popularity, and soon enough, the heads of the two leagues began to discuss the idea of a merger. They came to an agreement in 1966, keeping their regular season schedules separate for four years, but bound together by a championship game--a face-off between the AFL champion and NFL champion. The championship game would be called the "AFL-NFL World Championship Game," and the inaugural game was played in Los Angeles, on January 15, 1967, at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum.

The Green Bay Packers were the dominant team in the NFL during the 1960s. There were other strong teams, such as the Cleveland Browns, led by the great running back Jim Brown, and the Baltimore Colts, led by legendary quarterback Johnny Unitas, but the Packers always seemed to end the season on top. The leader of the pack was the legendary coach Vince Lombardi, who relied on his outstanding play-caller, hall-of-fame quarterback Bart Starr. Max McGee, a terrific receiver, was Starr''s go-to wideout. In the backfield, Green Bay had not one, but two great running backs: the physical fullback Jim Taylor and the versatile halfback Paul Hornung. Defensively, the Packers were just as stacked, with a dangerous defensive line led by Forrest Gregg, a fearsome middle linebacker in Ray Nitschke, and an unforgiving secondary that featured cornerback Herb Adderley and safety Willie Wood. The Packers had won the NFL championship in 1961, 1962, and 1965, and they entered the first year of the Super Bowl as heavy favorites to represent the National Football League. Today, as you know, NFL teams throw the football a lot.

Peyton Manning drops back to pass and has three, four, and sometimes five receivers to look for. Tom Brady will drop back into the "shotgun" formation, 5 yards behind the center, to get a better look at the defense and buy some time before they reach him. In the 1960s, Lombardi''s Packers were a power running team that mixed in some passing elements. The 1966 team was nearly last in the league in passing attempts, which upset Starr, who wanted to throw the ball--as all quarterbacks do. They were famous for the "Packer Sweep," during which Starr would snap the ball and the offensive line would block to the left while Taylor or Hornung or their newest back, Elijah Pitts, ran behind. The skilled line would create a human wall for the running backs, engulfing the defense in a show of sheer power. By the fourth quarter, with defenses beat up and tired from an afternoon of being pounded by t.