About six months ago, Open Bar introduced me to a sports blog where the authors post inane comments and columns by sports journalists, and ridicule the many inconsistent, incoherent, and incomprehensible things that are said and written about sports. Fire Joe Morgan has become one of our favorite websites, and I am in no way trying to (a) rip them off, or (b) suggest that I can do it better. Those guys are hysterical, and I am a hack. With that disclaimer out of the way, here is my attempt at a Fire Joe Morgan-esque post. For my first foray into this medium, I chose a relatively easy target.
Peyton Manning is the definition of a franchise quarterback.
Ok. So we’ve established the following.
fran·chise quar·ter·back [fran-chahyz kwawr-ter-bak]. Noun.
1. Peyton Manning.
The reason is pretty simple. General manager Bill Polian built the Indianapolis Colts franchise around him.
Wait. Um . . . Ok. That’s fine. But I guess we need to tweak our definition a little bit.
fran·chise quar·ter·back [fran-chahyz kwawr-ter-bak]. Noun.
1. Peyton Manning.
2. A quarterback around which a franchise is built.
Manning not only changed the fortunes of the Colts, but he changed the standard of quarterback play around the NFL. He came into the league in 1998 when the quarterback position was in the abyss. Some teams held on to aging quarterbacks too long while others rushed NFL Europe quarterbacks into starting jobs.
Quarterbacks in the NFL in 1998: Dan Marino, John Elway (who won the superbowl, despite being an “aging quarterback”), Steve Young, Brett Favre, etc. In 1998 there were four quarterbacks with passer ratings over 100 (Randall Cunningham, Vinny Testaverde, Steve Young, and Chris Chandler). This year there were only three (incidentally, Peyton Manning was not one of them in either 1998 or 2007). In 1998 Peyton Manning led the NFL with 28 interceptions.
Is the overall talent pool at quarterback better in 2007 than in 1998? Sure, I can get on board with that. But “in the abyss”? Knock it off.
In his fourth season, Eli Manning achieved franchise quarterback status through his game management in three road playoff games.
Our definition is getting confusing.
fran·chise quar·ter·back [fran-chahyz kwawr-ter-bak]. Noun.
1. Peyton Manning.
2. A quarterback around which a franchise is built.
3. A quarterback who manages the game in three road playoff games.
His achievements aren't to be confused with his brother's. Eli didn't revolutionize the game like his brother. Those accolades ride with only Peyton Manning and Tom Brady, two talents who achieved Hall of Fame credentials before their 30th birthdays.
Well I don’t think I would have had any problem not confusing the two if you hadn’t just told me they were both franchise quarterbacks. Ass. Until now I thought one was an exceptional quarterback having a stellar career and the other was on a hot streak leaving fans like me to wonder whether he had turned a corner or would return to disappointing form next season (or next week). Now I don’t know what to think.
Also, how do accolades “ride” with a person. Is that an even remotely proper coupling of those two words? Take a minute to open up Google and type in the phrase “accolades ride with” (or just “accolades ride”), and be sure to set off the phrase with opening and closing quotation marks. Did you notice that in the history of the Internet no other person anywhere in the world has ever used those two words together? Does anyone have a thesaurus at the worldwide leader? Does anyone even skim these articles before they are posted on espn.com?
Nowadays, a franchise quarterback is the man behind center who annually gives a team the chance to not only make but also win in the playoffs.
#*%@$!!
fran·chise quar·ter·back [fran-chahyz kwawr-ter-bak]. Noun.
1. Peyton Manning.
2. A quarterback around which a franchise is built.
3. A quarterback who manages the game in three road playoff games.
4. The man behind center who annually gives a team the chance to not only make but also win in the playoffs.
(Clearing his throat before a great hall of professors, dignitaries, and other intelligentsia): “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to announce the Clayton Theorem, according to which Mr. Clayton has proven that Kyle Boller, Mark Rypien, and Jeff Hostetler are all franchise quarterbacks.”
Whether his critics like it or not, Eli Manning did enough good things in three playoff games to get the Giants to the Super Bowl.
I like it.
His numbers weren't great but they were good enough. He completed 62.4 percent of his passes and had an efficient 99.2 quarterback rating in three playoff games. Unlike his brother, Eli Manning didn't revolutionize the game. He just managed it. He was more in the Jake Delhomme-Ben Roethlisberger mode, running an offense that ran the ball more than it passed.
Are we still stuck on Peyton “revolutionizing the game”? You’ve said it twice now, so you must really think it’s true. Did I miss something? Is Peyton better than Montana, Marino, or any of the other legendary NFL quarterbacks? And even if he is, how did he “revolutionize” the game? Can he fly? Is that it? In twenty years are there going to be quarterbacks just flying around the field dropping into the endzone for six points, looking up at the heavens, smiling, and saying “thanks, Peyton.”
Peyton Manning and Brady might be the standard, but they stand apart from the rest. When the Giants traded with the Chargers in 2004 to get Eli, they knew he wasn't his brother.
My, my. And how, pray tell, did they arrive at that above-grade-level conclusion? I guess they hadn’t been burdened with your uber-confusing and self-defeating definition of “franchise quarterback.”
In their eyes, he was the most talented of the quarterback troika of Eli Manning, Roethlisberger and Philip Rivers. As it turns out, this trio won more playoff games (10) in its first four years than the six first-rounders taken in 1983 -- headed by John Elway and Dan Marino -- who won eight playoff games in their first four years.
So to follow the observation that the Giants thought Eli was better than Roethlisberger and Rivers, you have given us a statistic that might tend to show that the three of them in the aggregate performed better than a different group of quarterbacks did 24 years ago. Stellar.
Though Eli Manning's performance faded in the second halves of the 2005 and 2006 seasons, he put the offense in position to make the playoffs every year. In his past three seasons as the Giants' starting quarterback, Manning has run an offense that has averaged between 22.2 and 26.4 points a game, playoff-worthy numbers. As a result, the Giants have made three consecutive trips to the postseason even though Manning didn't get credit for being in the driver's seat.
Isn’t that because he wasn’t in the driver’s seat? In 2005 against Carolina he was 10 of 18 with no touchdowns and three interceptions; in 2006 against the Eagles he was 16 0f 27 with another pick and two touchdowns. He couldn’t complete 60% of his passes or throw for 200 yards in either game. By saying that “Manning didn’t get credit” aren’t you implying that he should have?
Manning's swagger is less pronounced than his brother Peyton's. He's a quiet leader, which has caused outsiders and even insiders such as Tiki Barber to question his leadership. Peyton is a true field general. Eli is more of a facilitator, getting his offense's parts to work without much fanfare.
Swagger? Quiet leader? Can you please stab me in the hand right now with a pencil? On the journalistic integrity scale, this is roughly akin to saying that Ricky Williams loves spending time with other people, but is so focused on the game that he occasionally needs to be alone.
Though this is his fourth season, Manning has arrived and should get only better. The Giants' offense is pretty basic. The Giants run primarily a two-receiver offense. When they go to three receivers, Manning completes about 58.9 percent of his passes and had 14 of his 23 touchdown passes this season. He's a 57.8 percent thrower from shotgun. Those aren't great numbers, but they are good enough.
Not great, but good enough (also the second time you’ve used this phrase? Are you trying to make your point by repeating yourself? Does that work? Does that work? Hmm, maybe it does.
In any event, this quarterback whose numbers are not great but good enough is the same guy you just called a “franchise quarterback.”
So let’s recap:
fran·chise quar·ter·back [fran-chahyz kwawr-ter-bak]. Noun.
1. Peyton Manning.
2. A quarterback around which a franchise is built.
3. A quarterback who manages the game in three road playoff games.
4. The man behind center who annually gives a team the chance to not only make but also win in the playoffs.
5. Not great, but good enough.
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