For armchair QBs in 15 million households beyond America, Monday Dark Football starts afterwards Hank Williams Jr. and ends after four quarters, a few brewskis and a mound of nachos. For the 100-person coiffure, the MNF frenzy kicks off Saturday morning (when the trucks pull into the stadium parking lot) and ends Tuesday morning (when they pull out once again), and on-field action is a mere sliver of full game time.

STATS ORO U.s.a.

Scene from Week 2: Jerry Rice baskets a 57-yarder and Steve HirdtOs fingers immediately fly across a keyboard. The managing director of data (and The Mag columnist) is 1 of seven statheads smashed into the graphics room. Within seconds, Hirdt (and Al Michaels and, in plow, America) knows RiceOs snag was his longest since 1995. Absurd stat-on-the-wing, simply the most revealing numbers come from foresight: During the calendar week, Hirdt writes a report, Oslightly smaller than StarrOs,O on each teamOs strengths, strategies and weaknesses, so dreams upwards original numbers. Some of his babies: first-bulldoze efficiency, redzone effectiveness, 3rd-down-phone call probability.

Merely SHOOT ME

At a Dominicus coming together, ABC senior staff pumps the coaches for insight (on third down, whoOs the slot receiver? whoOs playing strong, whoOs not?). That info, plus a mass of research, goes into a photographic camera game programme. Cameramen receive assignments (third downward: Camera xv has the slot) and crook sheets (mugs, names, numbers) on Monday. Merely one shot is live, but every part of the play is recorded, so director Craig Janoff tin can zoom in on the receiver with buttery fingers or the trash-talker on a tear. OIOm big on emotional reactions,O he says. OI like to get inside the helmet.O

BRAINS Backside THE BRAWN

Half-dozen phones, 78 screens, countless switches, 2 speakers, seven bodies, a couple of pounds of peanut G&MOs and Twizzlers and one pair of fuzzy dice fill the MNF nerve centre. Manager Janoff sits (or stands and waves his arms, depending on the score) front and middle, commanding cameramen similar a crazed conductor. Producer Ken Wolfe (right) oversees the prove, choosing replays, fielding reports from Lesley Visser and calling commercial breaks. OOrganized chaosO is how one techie politely describes the scene. OSweatyO is how another does.

THE TRUCK STOPS HERE

Judging from their size, these semis could be hauling pigs or lawn tractors, just the network logo plastered on their sides signals that theyOre the vehicles backside ABCOs prime-time national institution. Four 40-pes trucks (one each for production, video library, function/ buffet and storage) transport 24 cameras, 2 dishes and miles and miles of cable, so that technicians, producers, directors, announcers, programmers, cameramen, graphics guys and assorted grunts can ensure that when youOre ready for some football, youOll get it.

ON THE Route AGAIN

In December, they will caravan from San Francisco to Tampa to San Fran to Miami, logging 9,000 miles. On shorter trips, casino detours provide diversion. And so exercise minivan-jocks, jazzed by the logos; OThey get crazy, honk, wave and take pictures,O says Ken Sainz, who drives a truck to games and a photographic camera cart during them. OWe root for teams in cities we similar,O says a videotape operator, citing Miami and San Diego.

DO Yous HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

Nigh exactly, promises mix principal Don Scholtes. OSeven 2d sound delay is for Howard Stern, not usa,O he says, explaining why the occasional curse makes it into your living room. From a individual boothNbest seat in the truckNScholtes listens to the hits, calls and woofs, then marries them with video. OYou donOt hear as much as IOd like you to,O admits Scholtes, since the NFL doesnOt allow open mikes near sidelined players (a privacy affair) or music when a player is injured (a respect thing).

CANDID CAMERAS

A Sun night run-through guarantees all systems are go. Besides the workhorsesN50-yard line, goal post and end zone camerasNthereOs a armada of specialists: The Ohero camO focuses on high-contour players. An overhead telestration cam goes broad to suit scribbles. The ET remote (named for SpielbergOs creature) captures the breathtaking, going-to-commercial shot. And a cable-gratuitous photographic camera roamsNthanks to a freelance sherpa who lugs 35 pounds of electronics on his back. OI couldnOt walk on my right foot after the last game,O says 1 assistant, who claimed he circled the field thirty times.

Wind BENEATH THEIR WINGS

While Al, Dan and Boomer yuk it upward, seven staffers factory around inside the berth in mute mode. Runners earnestly wait peon tasks, like hustling stats or fetching snacks. (Al: takes mayo on his sandwiches. Dan: coffee. Boomer, the newbie: doesnOt ask for much all the same.) Their servitude nets them $225 and a glimpse at the well-oiled telecast. Worth information technology? Absolutely, said 1 20-yr-old Seattle pupil who, looking for a suspension into journalism, broke even trekking to Denver to work the season opener.

AND THE EMMY GOES TO East

E George Montanez, the super-dull-mo photographic camera guy, for beingness the hardest (non-helmeted) worker on the field. OSlow mo is an art class,O says 1 gentleman, Oand George is the master creative person.O George shares his secrets: Stay alee of the action (all-out sprints to the next line of scrimmage). Get a good nightOs sleep earlier a game. Underdress for the weather. Rehydrate at the half. Habiliment knee pads.