Super Bowl XIV, less than two years after the film’s release.
There was no divine intervention for the Hollywood team,
though, as Pittsburgh cruised to a 31–19 win.T
HE PIPELINE BETWEEN a successful professional
football career and a second act on the silver screen
was once as improbable as going from supermarket check-
out clerk to Super Bowl MVP. But the klieg lights that shine
on the most-watched annual sporting event in America
occasiona lly have t he power to t ra nsfor m even lunch-pa il
players into post-retirement movie stars. While some of
the biggest names to swap their NFL unis for SAG cards
belong to players who never made it to the Big Game(see: Jim Brown, Alex Karras, O.J. Simpson, Bernie Casey,
Carl Weathers, Brian Bosworth, Terry Crews, et al.), there’s
no denying the extra volt of celebrity wattage that comes
with competing on the sport’s biggest stage.
Occasionally, however, it’s the movie character who
makes his way to Super Sunday, as was the case with
offensive tackle Michael Oher, whose reputation preceded
him in the NFL thanks to his pivotal role in Michael Lewis’s
2006 bestseller, The Blind Side—and the eventual movie
adaptation that won Sandra Bullock an Oscar in ’10. A
first-round pick of the Ravens in ’09, Oher arrived in the
NFL with the sort of origin story that only Hollywood
could dream up. While he ultimately failed to deliver on
the promise of superstardom, he did snag a ring after the
Ravens’ 34–31 Super Bowl XLVII victory over the 49ers.
Oher is an exception, a f luke. Nine times out of 10,
the path runs in the opposite direction: NFL first and
Tinseltown second. (And by Tinseltown, we’re talking about
an echelon higher than moonlighting as a TV pitchman
f lexing the “Discount Double Check.”) In fact, you don’t
have to look any further than a veteran of the very first
Super Bowl to f ind a particularly badass example. Known
for the brutal forearm shivers he delivered to opposing wide
receivers, defensive back Fred “The Hammer” Williamson
played eight stellar seasons in the pros—the last helping
the Chiefs reach the AFL-NFL World Championship Game.
His team lost, but by that time Williamson had become
one of the most feared players in the game. Naturally,
Hollywood came calling. Williamson found quick work in
the 1970s Blaxploitation boom, starring in Black Caesar,
Hell Up in Harlem and Three the Hard Way. Sensing a natu-
ral, Hollywood soon put him in more mainstream roles.
At 83, he’s still working and has stacked up more than
100 acting credits.
Oscar nominations and other accolades have never
been the point. The mere fact that an NFL player could
transition from winning Super Bowl V to starring in
Police Academy 5, as defensive end Bubba Smith did is, in
itself, remarkable. Hollywood might not have gotten the
better end of the deal when it cast Terry Bradshaw along-
side former Florida State star running back Burt Reynolds
in Hooper or The Cannonball Run, but one thing is certain:
The Goonies wouldn’t have been half as memorable as it
was without two-time Super Bowl champ John Matuszak
going berserk for a Baby Ruth as Sloth.
Joe Namath was already “Broadway Joe” by the time he
predicted a win for the Jets in Super Bowl III. So it made
perfect sense that the tabloid playboy would parlay his
on-field fame into a movie career. But he never seemed as
comfortable on the big screen as he did at midfield being
interviewed after a game-winning drive. After hosting a
1969 variety show, movie offers came and he took them,
but Hollywood studios learned the hard way that just
because your nickname has “Broadway” in it doesn’t
mean you can act. As Exhibit A, check out the 1970 biker
movie C.C. and Company. Or, better yet, don’t.AL(^) TIE
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THE REAL DEAL
Oher’s (74) Super Bowl ring, earned three years
after the film about his origin story came out,
further boosted The Blind Side’s lure.
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