|
“I’m trying to be a good teammate here…”
Those words echoed through every highlight reel from the Steelers-Colts playoff game on January 15. Peyton Manning, the NFL’s golden boy, did everything he could do to win the game for his team, and came up short. People who saw the game will probably never forget it. Lord knows I won’t. But that one statement sent ripples through the sports world with a speed faster than Onterrio Smith running from airport security.
Peyton Manning can’t lead this team. Peyton Manning is a horrible teammate. Peyton Manning is a fraud. Peyton Manning eats babies.
Everyone jumped on board the Peyton-bashing wagon. Sportswriters, commentators, people who have never played the game, people who have played the game, people who have no idea who Peyton Manning is…everyone started talking about how much he deserved to be stripped naked, wrapped in an Israeli flag and thrown into the middle of a Hamas meeting.
Now that the smoke has cleared, let’s take a look at what happened. The Colts were far and away the best team in the NFL during the regular season. Their defense was like a swarm of hornets full of 6’1”, 215 lb. defensive ends and linebackers and a newly acquired run-stuffer up the gut. Bob Sanders and Mike Doss became arguably the hardest hitting safety tandem in the league, just daring you to run a post. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention Marvin Harrison, Reggie Wayne, Brandon Stokely and a guy who could get them the ball? Throw in a running back that gave them a hint of nastiness and a tight end who is maybe one year away from being elite and you have a team that most people forget were damn near unstoppable during the first part of the season.
This team had talent. This team had coaching. This team was better than they were last year. And you know what…this team had a swagger.
Unfortunately, this team had two weeks to prepare for two teams. The way the NFL runs their playoff brackets both helps and hurts the one- and two-seeded teams. The reward: they get two weeks to heal their wounds, get their legs up underneath them, and watch game film to prepare. The punishment: they don’t know who they’re going to be playing. It’s beyond playing the winner of Team X vs. Team Y; the second round games are based on the rankings. The one-seed plays the lowest ranked team that makes the second round and the two-seed plays the second lowest. So the Colts had to prepare to play:
A: The Steelers’ game-controlling offense and “Blitzburgh” defense
B: The Bengals’ high-powered offense and ball-hawking defense
C: The Patriots’ experience and unshakeable cool in the playoffs
The only team that they were sure not to play was the three-seeded Jags. That’s a hell of a lot to prepare for in two weeks. Unfortunately the team they had the best chance to beat (and I hate to admit this) was Cincinnati. They could match Carson Palmer and Co. snap-for-snap. The Steelers contrasted their style so much that in hindsight, really favored Pittsburgh. It was almost like a lumbering Italian southpaw amateur who didn’t know it was supposed to be a “damn show” stepping into the ring against a lightning-quick trash-talking heavyweight champ. They countered each other so well that it was a matter of who imposed their will first.
The difficulty in preparing for Pittsburgh’s defense came in the fact that they never play the same way twice. Their blitz packages are so varied that you never know what you will get. Assigning Troy Polamalu a title like “strong safety” is an injustice. You never know where he is coming from. Casey Hampton gives you a bull-rush one play and covers a hook-to-curl route the next. It was like trying to prepare for a nameless, shapeless blob that would hit you with whatever they could. The one thing the Colts did know was that they were going to blitz. We see a pocket-passing field general who can deliver homeruns at any time and they see an immobile, lumbering statue who calls for a lot of routes that take a long time to develop. It was like the reactions of those people in the movie “The Day After.” They saw the missiles launch and all they could do was hunker down and get ready for what’s coming.
When you have a pocket passer, the line is paramount. This unit stepped up all year, and they knew they had to this game. The weight was on their broad shoulders. They needed to be the leaders on the field. They wore the target.
So when Manning was running for his life and rushing passes and audibling more than usual, people pointed to his inability to win the big games. They accused him of being a poor leader. They were ready to throw him out and usher in the Age of Eli. The postgame comments just fueled that fire.
“I’m trying to be a good teammate here…”
Try to wrap your head around this: what would the reaction be if Tom Brady had said it? I’ll tell you what the reaction would be. Sportswriters would have praised Brady for his way of lighting a fire under his line. Jim Rome would have been burning on how Brady deserves a better effort from his surrounding cast. People would accuse the line of eating babies.
So why the rage when Manning said it? People have been looking for knocks on the best passer in football for years and they saw that comment as a hanging curveball. Was he wrong? Absolutely not! The most important part of their gameplan was to neutralize the blitz and the line failed. Plain and simple. They failed.
Call me old-fashioned, but I think Manning had every right to do what he did. He didn’t call out any players by name. He didn’t use any harsh words. He didn’t accuse them of playing like “diddly-poo.” He said they had trouble with the protection. It was an obvious statement, and maybe it was needed to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
Maybe Peyton Manning isn’t the heart and soul of that team. Maybe he isn’t the general of the Colts army. Maybe they look elsewhere for a spark. Maybe Manning isn’t the most valuable player on that team. These are all fair accusations, but maybe Manning doesn’t have to be all of these things. Maybe he’s another cog in the machinery. Maybe he doesn’t have to be the one they look to when the chips are down.
I’m not a big Peyton Manning fan. He played at one of my least-favorite college teams. He plays for a conference rival to my favorite team. I don’t dislike him, but I’m not ordering life-sized Manning wall stickers from Fathead. I do think he had a right to say what he said. It needed to be said. Sometimes being a leader means stepping up and calling out your teammates to motivate them.
And sometimes, just maybe, you have to eat a baby or two.
-Kyle Lewis
|
|
|
2 comments - join this discussion...
|
|
|
|
|
|
