Sports fans, by nature, are nostalgic. They can all pinpoint specific sporting events that played a special role in their lives. Some even categorize portions of their lives by sports. For example, I know that during my misled middle school years I was -- for reasons I still can’t comprehend -- a fan of the Dallas Cowboys.

As sports gamers, we are no different because obviously we are sports fans. We can all recall that perfect dynasty in NCAA Football 04, when we beat our roommate in triple overtime for the National Championship. We can remember that time we threw for 800-plus yards in a Tecmo Super Bowl with Joe Montana. These moments of digital greatness are ingrained in our memories forever, just like the real-life wins and losses of our favorite teams.

But just as there are moments and games that we remember forever, there are also those that we forget. Little niche titles that for whatever reason, frequently evade our collective consciousness despite the hours of enjoyment they so willingly provided in the days of our youth.

For me, there is one game that often unjustly fades from my thoughts. A fantastic game, that I most closely associate with lazy summer days of the early-to-mid 1990s. Although a this title was a sports game at its heart, it was really so much more. Extra variables like player deaths, unscrupulous officials, and on-field land mines made every game different from those that preceded it. I am speaking of course, of my beloved Mutant League Football; a game so spectacular, yet so often forgotten by sports gamers -- and it shouldn’t be. MLF was not a full-on sports game, but it was insanely fun, and more than that, memorable. All because it fully embraced its own concept -- ridiculous as it was. Perhaps there is a lesson here for current game developers.

For the sake of those who are either too young to have experienced MLF, or for those who unfortunately missed out, I will give you a quick little capsule.

Mutant League Football took place in a post-apocalyptic, intergalactic world, with team rosters composed of "super" humans, aliens, robots, trolls and skeletons. Playing fields were made of rocks, rubber and ice, and often contained booby traps like rocks, fire pits, and of course, land mines. The football aspect of the game was fairly basic and played similarly to Madden, circa Sega Genesis.

Nothing too insane, right? Wrong.

The real kicker was that your players actually died during the game. Once a player’s health was depleted by vicious tackles or an errant tumble into a fire pit, he perished right before your very eyes, in a hilariously gruesome explosion of blood and body parts. Teams would then be forced to try and compete with less-than-adequate subs -- many who "wet themselves," according to the coaching staff.

These player deaths played a vital strategic role during the game, as losing a starter hindered a gamer's ability to compete. In fact, if a team’s depth chart was completely depleted, the team was forced to play shorthanded. Often times, games would end in forfeits because one of the teams had too few players left alive. It took skill to strategically preserve star players, all while trying to sneakily slay the opposition's playmakers, and put an entirely new spin on football gaming, even at the time of its release.

This short synopsis truly does not give the game justice. So click here for a better taste.

Mutant League Football was a vulgar, gory, and hilarious classic. It provided a type of sports-gaming magic that is rare in today’s world of gaming. It was memorable. It also created a simple formula that developers of non-licensed football games would be wise to follow.

Mutant League Football was a niche product. Its appeal was limited as a sports game. It wasn’t really about football; it was about linemen randomly cutting huge farts before the snap, and bribing the referee so he would call a "Flicking Boogers" penalty on the opposing team after a big play. It was a gimmick.

It was, and is, also an incredibly successful cult classic.

Developers who create the current generation of football games (sans Madden), as well as the various other sports games, need to take note of this successful formula. In a market dominated by EA Sports, developers are forced to be creative if they wish to enter the fracas for our dollars. However, the EA empire has wobbled a bit while transitioning to the next-gen, and thus the door has been opened a crack for opposing developers to offer up some non-licensed titles that snag some, or at least a small sliver of the pie. But they have to be smart.

Last year, 2K Sports re-entered the console football war with All-Pro Football 2K8. This game managed some note-worthy buzz, namely because many NFL 2K fans were starved for a new version of their favorite franchise that died a spectacular death after 2004. AP2K8 spun a unique premise, hosting a fictional league filled with old NFL greats and not-so-greats (the Boz, anyone?).

All-Pro 2K8 was a gimmick. But it was several gimmicks. It played the nostalgia card by featuring our old-school favorites. It played the arcade card by featuring outlandish stadiums and space-age looking uniforms. And it played the sim card, by employing the good old 2K gameplay that we grew to love back around the turn of the millennium. Its attempt at diversity is ultimately the reason it failed.

 

Had AP2K8 completely committed to a single gimmick, it would have carved out an identity, and therefore a niche in the marketplace. It should have tried to be ONE thing Madden wasn’t, rather than nearly everything Madden wasn’t. Had it done this, we might be seeing an All-Pro Football 2K9. In my humble opinion, the game would have been best served to play the nostalgia angle, and be a "Golden Age of Football" type game. Nobody wants to play a sim with a fictional league, especially when Blitz: The League is doing at least an admirable job at filling the arcade football void.

The short-winded version is this: For a non-licensed football game to be successful, it must find a gimmick and commit to it fully. And it must do so without shame. Mutant League Football taught us this. It wasn’t a serious football game, but it worked because it was so completely and utterly un-serious. It was committed to its craft, something many modern-day football (and sports) games should strive to be.