John Madden is big. And I don't mean the broadcaster's bulging waistline.

I mean his video game. It's bigger than Sam Adams after an all-night buffet binge. It's more now than ESPN. It's hotter than Jessica Biel in a bikini.

Every year, geeks like myself count down the days to the release of the John Madden football video game.

We go into George Mitchell mode months before the title is released, trying to dig up any tidbit of information about the game.

We even scour stores, hoping some flunky in the back room accidently stocks the shelves with the precious game before the release date.

That's why last month, when droves of people with brooms and cauldrons and witch hats stood in line to get their nerdy hands on the new Harry Potter book, I didn't point and laugh at them.

Even though I wanted to.

I didn't because I knew a month later, I'd be wearing my Jim Kelly jersey, standing in line, waiting to get my nerdy hands on the new Madden game.

The game doesn't have Harry Potter, but it has Jerry Porter. It doesn't have Ron Weasley, but it has Greg Wesley.

And it has become a cultural phenomenon.

Madden has become synonymous with cyber football. Those who play the game with religious zealousness even have a name now.

Maddenites.

And its ranks are spreading.

That's the thing about Madden — it transcends culture. It transcends gender.

My fiance is becoming a Maddenite.

Already a zealot when it comes to football — only Jon Gruden yells and makes scarier faces more while watching a football game — she is now enthralled in Madden Nation.

We played last year's game recently to get her acclimated to the "Madden Engine" — that's geek for how the pixelated Willie Parker moves around the screen. I figured, "This will be cool. It'll be like USC playing A-C Valley. No sweat."

After four grueling quarters and a few bombs — not of the passing variety, but of the F kind — I dropped a 10-7 decision. My only touchdown was when I caught her with the punt team on the field on a fourth-and-long late in the game.

After I scored, I thought she was going to wrap the controller cord around my neck. But she refrained.

Thanks, honey.

And I lost. At Madden. To a girl.

The playing field is level on Madden. That's the appeal. You don't have to be 6-foot-4, 250 pounds, or be able to lift small automobiles. You don't have to run like a Bengals' player from the police. You just have to have quick thumbs, good reflexes.

It also gives you a sense that maybe you kind of know a little bit about football.

And how to read a defense like, well, Harry Potter.