Peyton Manning, Tom Brady
For better and for worse, it has been the year of Tom Brady. In the past 12 months he played in his sixth Super Bowl, won his fourth title, claimed his third Super Bowl MVP, became embroiled in a slanderous he-said/he-said with the National Football League’s commissioner, was temporarily suspended by the NFL, had his suspension overturned by a court of law, started off the season strongly only to watch his weapons fall around him like soldiers at Normandy, and finally steadied the ship to reach his fifth consecutive AFC Championship Game.
At this point it seems cliche to compare Brady to a fine wine, though the description is apt. At 38-years-old he had one of the best seasons of his career and shows no signs of wilting. Had Cam Newton and the Carolina Panthers not rolled to a 15-1 season, Brady would probably be collecting the third regular-season MVP trophy in his illustrious career. It’s not often that a man who, for all conceivable purposes, should be slowing down throws for his third-highest touchdown total (36) and second-lowest interception mark (7). Yet here we are.
When soaking in Brady’s composite career, this prolonged run of excellence is the latest in a series of unexpected events. His is the sports equivalent to a rags-to-riches tale: from nobody to global icon. He has, at various times, been either the face of the NFL or the league’s biggest heel; he carries the flag for an entire region of America; and he backs up bravado with exemplary play.
It’s safe to say that Tom Brady has squeezed every drop out of what was expected from a player selected No. 199 in the first NFL Draft of the new millennium. The intrigue with Brady is, as it always has been: What’s next and for how long?
Peyton Manning is done. The bullets are out of the chamber, leaving the sheriff without any tangible way to defend himself. It’s a sad way to go out. It is never easy to watch an athletic marvel break down piece by precious piece in front of a nation’s hopeful eyes, and this is especially painful.
We have seen the best of Manning, or so we think. Manning has won a Super Bowl, five Most Valuable Player awards and a host of Pro Bowl and All-Pro nominations. Yet, would it not be the greatest achievement in his vast career if Manning could rally once more and find a way to turn back Father Time in his quest for a second, and final, championship?
It was a brief 18 seasons ago that Manning entered the National Football League with ample potential and fanfare as the first-overall pick of the Indianapolis Colts. Manning was the hope for a floundering franchise, one entering its 15th season in a land that was transfixed on the NBA’s Indiana Pacers much more than it’s nameless, faceless football team. Manning ended up not only creating a fan base but building a new arena in Lucas Oil Stadium, ensuring the Colts would be in town far beyond his playing days.
Now, Manning winds down his career with the Denver Broncos, horses of a different color. Soon, the final word will have been spoken on this legend’s career. The only remaining question is what note will be sung for this masterpiece’s conclusion?
Before the New England Patriots, before the Michigan Wolverines even, Brady was a baseball player. Throughout his high school prep career, coaches, classmates and teammates believed that Brady would one day play in the Majors. A catcher during those formidable years, Brady was drafted by the Montreal Expos following his senior year. Though a two-sport star, it was behind the plate where he truly excelled. However when a young Brady, who started playing football during his freshman year at Serra High School, learned there might be a market for him, he became laser-focused on the NFL.
It took a considerable amount of marketing to push Brady’s name beyond the city limits of San Mateo, California. At first, only Cal-Berkley showed interest, though as the quarterback’s highlight tapes began to make their rounds more and more teams came calling. The Brady family, holding fast to an old-world ethos of academics first and athletics second, narrowed the potential targets down to in-state Cal, UCLA, USC and out-of-state Big Ten programs Michigan and Illinois. Michigan and legendary coach Lloyd Carr would win out.
Brady’s rise through the ranks in Ann Arbor scarcely differs from the thousands of college players who came before him and the ones in subsequent years. He was a third-stringer as a freshman, seeing limited snaps. As a sophomore Brady backed up Brian Griese on a team that would go 12-0, win the Rose Bowl and a claim a national championship, the 11th in program history. On a team that boasted a legacy quarterback in Griese and Heisman Trophy winner Charles Woodson, Brady served as little more than a roster spot and guy to perform mop-up duty.
As inauspiciously as his first two years were, Brady’s third season began with ignominy. Starting the first game of his career in Michigan’s 1998 season-opener, Brady, alongside his Wolverines teammates, fell to the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, 36-20. The defending champs again lost the following week, a 10-point defeat to Donovan McNabb and the Syracuse Orange in The Big House. They are, currently, the last defending national champion to open the following season with a loss (let alone two).
From there, Brady and the Wolverines righted the ship and strung together wins before falling to rival Ohio State, in a game where Brady would set a program record for pass attempts. Following the rocky start, Brady’s first season ended with a 10-3 record, No. 12 ranking and a Citrus Bowl victory. His senior season found much more success – getting revenge on Notre Dame and Ohio State, winning a dramatic overtime Orange Bowl contest against the Alabama Crimson Tide and finishing ranked No. 5 – though there were frustrations, as Brady split snaps with Dew Henson for part of the season.
What began with little fanfare and heavy anxiety about climbing the depth chart – Brady has openly mentioned his need for a sports psychologist at this time – ended as a satisfying and perfectly adequate (though unspectacular) college career.
In 1994, Manning surprised many in the collegiate world by attending the University of Tennessee instead of Ole Miss, where his father had become a legend before being drafted by the New Orleans Saints in 1971. In Knoxville, Manning would author one of the most impressive college careers of all-time, albeit without the ultimate crowning achievement.
After playing toward the end of his freshman season after injuries mounted for the Volunteers (including ton one Tod Helton, who would go onto a tremendous baseball career with the Colorado Rockies), Manning became the full-time starting quarterback in 1995 and immediately led Tennessee to a one-loss season, finishing third in the Associated Press poll. The Volunteers would roll into the Citrus Bowl and defeat the Ohio State Buckeyes, giving all the impression that a national championship was coming soon.
The wunderkind would produce another quality campaign in 1996, but was once more undone by the Florida Gators. In what would become a story of his collegiate and professional career for the better part of a decade, Manning could not win the big one. Against the Gators in Tennessee’s third game, Manning would toss four interceptions in a 35-29 defeat. Once more, Tennessee would settle for a Citrus Bowl victory.
In his final season in burnt orange, Manning sustained one final loss to Florida but rebounded to win the SEC Championship. However, the crystal ball would elude him, something Tennessee would cruelly capture the following season with Tee Martin at the helm. The prodigy had stayed for his senior season, hoping to deliver the ultimate prize. It was not to be, and Manning was off to the wasteland of Indianapolis, with millions of dollars and vast expectations.
In 2005, Manning’s No. 16 would be retired in Knoxville. It is fitting that here, the first venue where he gained national exposure on a grand level, Manning was celebrated for his greatness all while the murmurs continued that his journey through never fully satisfied the audience.
The tale of Tom Brady is one of two quarterbacks. For the first half of his career, despite collecting three Super Bowl rings in his first four seasons as a starter, Brady was, essentially, a game manager – albeit one of the highest order.
During his first six seasons, he never threw more than 28 touchdown passes or fewer than 12 interceptions. New England was powered by an intelligent, cohesive defense, and needed little star play from under center. Brady was there to shepherd the offense, and then if things got tight late in the game, lead a comeback. The Pats were one of the last holdouts of ground-first offenses.
If they weren’t lining the likes of Corey Dillon, Kevin Faulk and Antwain Smith up to jam it through the line, they were sending the backs out in the flat and working swing passes like other teams utilized draws and dives. Brady played the caretaker role to perfection, even helping his coordinators earn lucrative head-coaching positions.
Everything changed in 2007 when New England fleeced the Oakland Raiders and acquired Randy Moss, whom the latter franchise believed to be both insolent and over-the-hill. Brady-to-Moss would become common among the sportscasting lexicon, and the Pats would run the table to the league’s first undefeated regular season since 1972. Brady launched an astounding 50 touchdowns for a then-NFL record and, perhaps equally as impressive, would lower his interception total to eight, four fewer than his previous best. That 2007 campaign would be the first of two MVP seasons for Brady.
That year effectively did away with any notions of Brady being a sturdy game-manager who had the team, but not the personal accolades. He became the locomotive for the most inventive offensive sets in modern league history. From gravity-defying, over-the-top offenses to dynamic, two-tight end sets to a nouveau mixture of zig-zagging slots and stretch tight ends, late-career Brady is as innovative as the early incarnation was boring.
There has never been an equal to Manning from September through December. No. 18 will forever be remembered as the greatest regular-season quarterback to ever grace the football field, due to both incomparable intellect and supreme physical ability. Manning has never enjoyed the arm strength of Brett Favre or the mobility of John Elway, but his talents remain a marvel to anybody who witnessed them.
Manning, 39, has broken down in his advancing age. He went through four neck surgeries and has lost feeling in his fingertips as a result. The impact is measured in that Manning threw 17 interceptions this season, despite only playing in 10 games. While 2015 might be the most recent memory, it will fade into oblivion when his career is placed into proper perspective.
The future first-ballot Hall of Famer played in 208 consecutive regular-season games to begin his career, showcasing a toughness that many overlook. Manning has set NFL records for both touchdown passes (539) and passing yards (71,940), doing it all while playing with the quiet cool of another Colts legend, Johnny Unitas. Manning never exuberantly celebrated or taunted an opponent, he just repeatedly dealt darts better than anybody in the sport’s illustrious history.
There has never been a more cerebral player at the position than Manning. No quarterback in the modern game is expected to think, with radios in the earhole of a helmet for coaches to bark instructions to their strong-armed robots. Manning was his own offensive coordinator, calling plays and adjusting rapidly with audibles at the line of scrimmage. Many of his gesticulations meant nothing, a select few meant everything. Nobody could ever tell the difference, and that proved to make all of it.
The postseason is where the legend of Brady was born. It’s where he was deemed the Golden Boy. Where he was unofficially anointed a Hall-of-Famer before the age of 30. The segment of his career where he will be remembered as being better than any of his contemporaries, and arguably any player in the annals of professional history.
Brady won three Super Bowls in his first four years as a starter, and he did not lose a playoff game. During those early years, if the Patriots made the postseason they were hoisting the Lombardi Trophy. It was also likely that Brady would be lifting the Pete Rozelle Trophy at game’s end.
The mystique of Brady’s playoff success is only aided by the amount of otherworldly plays he has been attached to. From the Tuck Rule to Adam Vinatieri’s clinchers to David Tyree’s Helmet Catch to Malcolm Butler’s interception in Super Bowl XLIX, Brady has been a part of some of the most iconic moments in National Football League history. Heck, he was in the locker room during Nipplegate at Super Bowl XXXVIII.
Rings aside, Brady holds a lion’s share of individual postseason records – pass attempts, touchdowns, completions, passing yards, game-winning drives, fourth-quarter comebacks. Without question, he is the most prolific postseason athlete of his generation.
If there is one bugaboo for Manning, it has been the cold truths of January and February. Despite reaching the playoffs 15 times including this go-around, Manning has reached the Super Bowl thrice and been eliminated without a win on nine occasions. It has been the single flaw in Manning’s game throughout his brilliance. When the lights have been at their brightest, Manning seems to suffer paralysis by analysis.
Even in his Super Bowl-winning year of 2006, Manning was anything but consistently impressive. After muddling through a ho-hum win in the Wild Card round at home over the Kansas City Chiefs, Manning’s Colts managed just five field goals in a Divisional round victory over the Baltimore Ravens at M&T Bank Stadium.
However, Manning would author his signature moment in the AFC Championship Game versus the New England Patriots. After falling behind 21-3, due in large part to an Asante Samuel pick-six, Manning raged in the second half. The man labeled a choker shook free of the shackles and fired away with reckless abandon. It was Manning’s finest hour, throwing for 347 yards and a touchdown, all while orchestrating a game-winning drive in the final two minutes to win, 38-34.
In subsequent years, Manning has presented some wonderful performances, but also some shocking defeats. Ironically, perhaps the worst of all came last season, when Manning lost to the Colts and his replacement, Andrew Luck, as a heavy favorite in the 2014 AFC Divisional playoffs.
Bradshaw and Montana. This is the company Brady keeps in regards to Super Bowl titles.
Elway, Staubach, Kelly. Along with the two aforementioned legends, these are names that Tom Brady looks down on in terms of Super Bowl appearances. With six starts, he has no equal – only Elway’s five come close. Even then, Brady won more Super Bowls before the age of 28 than Elway did in his entire career.
The Patriots are a modern-day dynasty, though it could easily be considered the Tom Brady Dynasty. The franchise has shuttled players on and off its roster this millennium, perhaps with the least amount of sentimentality of any franchise in the league. It’s the Patriot Way. All for one, one for the team. The only constant between the hashes is Brady.
It would not be a surprise if one day there is a trophy named after the Patriots’ Golden Boy. He’s claimed titles in thrilling fashion. He’s lost championships in gut-wrenching heartbreaks. Tom Coughlin and Eli Manning were his kryptonite; Kurt Warner, Jake Delhomme, Donovan McNabb and Russell Wilson were all stepping stones.
While he is not unscathed like Bradshaw and Montana, Brady’s Super Bowl losses have both come down to the games’ final moments. It’s the benchmark that his career was based off early on, and a self-made ghost Brady has chased ever since. If Starr, Bradshaw and Montana were the faces of the Super Bowl in the 20th century, Brady carried the flag in the 21st.
Manning’s record in his Super Bowl appearances have brought an average slate. While his effort was pedestrian by Manning standards, it was more than enough to squash the hopes of Rex Grossman and the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl XLI. For Manning, the victory will forever separate him from the likes of Dan Marino, Jim Kelly, Warren Moon and Dan Fouts; Hall of Fame quarterbacks who lack a ring. It was sweet vindication, but the ugly losses in the future have somewhat muted that seminal moment.
Manning went into the Super Bowl two more times with the favored team, and played poorly. In 2009, Manning’s Colts were supposed to hammer the Saints in Super Bowl XLIV, only for Manning to play subpar football, ending with a clinching pick-six to Tracy Porter. It was a bitter defeat and the last time Manning would drive Indianapolis toward the promised land.
In 2013, the Broncos were an unstoppable juggernaut, with Manning throwing an NFL-record 56 touchdowns during the regular season. In Super Bowl XLVIII, the first play was a blown snap that resulted in a Denver safety, and Manning’s charges were obliterated by the Seattle Seahawks, 43-8.
Ultimately, Manning shoulders the blame for both his average play and the horrific efforts of the teams around him. It’s the life of a quarterback, and the story of Manning when the primetime season starts up.
For all of Manning’s greatness, it will be his postseason shortcomings that dog him for life.
There was a time when Brady looked to be little more than an above-average cog on an exceptional wheel. He managed games, handed the ball off, threw short-to-medium routes, stayed in his lane, played the good soldier and led a comeback or two. Brady was a lot of things. Most Valuable Player he was not.
Until 2007.
After the Patriots revamped their ground-and-pound, hit-the-flats offense to a vertical model featuring Randy Moss, Brady ascended. His 2007 MVP campaign is one of the greatest in league history. There was real debate about whether Brady was little more than a system quarterback at that point. When Brady posted a 50 touchdowns to only eight interceptions, completed over 68 percent of his passes and threw for more than 4,800 yards, it was clear he arrived in an entirely different spectrum.
The paradigm shifted from Brady being a good player who fit well within the context of his team, to a legend around whom rosters were constructed. From a guy who will achieve incredible team success, but far less individually, to a player who was a perennial MVP candidate.
If his first award appeared an aberration, then the second MVP, awarded in 2010, solidified Brady’s place among the game’s statistical and individual greats. While that year’s touchdown number (36) is only the third-best of his career, Brady’s interception total (four) and interception ratio (0.8) were his lowest ever.
This was not the quarterback who perpetually dumped off to the backs with check-downs. It was a leader who forced balls across the middle of the field and routinely attacked defenses. No longer a counter-puncher, Brady was at his most accurate while playing the role of aggressor.
While awards are never an entirely accurate mark of greatness, they must be accounted for in the final analysis. With Manning, there are almost too many to fit into a single showroom. In his career, Manning has been named a First-Team All-Pro on seven occasions while notching a Second-Team All-Pro three times. Manning has made 14 trips to the Pro Bowl and unlike many superstars, actually attends.
His greatest accomplishment in terms of hardware, though, must be the five Most Valuable Player awards, more than any other player in NFL history. The first came in 2003 and the last in 2013, with 2004, 2008 and 2009 also earning him the distinction.
While 2013 saw Manning’s gaudiest numbers (5,477 passing yards and 55 touchdowns, easily two NFL records for a single-season), his best overall season came in 2004. Manning set a then-record with 49 touchdowns against 10 interceptions, throwing for 4,557 yards and an absurd 9.17 yards per attempt.
This was an interesting intersection in NFL history, where quarterbacks were of paramount importance but not yet putting up video-game numbers on a regular basis. That year, Daunte Culpepper led the league with 4,717 passing yards. Only five players eclipsed 4,000 yards, and just four quarterbacks threw for at least 30 touchdowns. Of the top 30 quarterbacks in terms of passing yardage, only five had single-digit interceptions.
For comparison, 2015 saw a continued surge in passing numbers. This season, Drew Brees won the yardage title with 4,830, and 12 quarterbacks went over the 4,000-yard barrier. Incredibly, 11 threw for 30 or more touchdowns, including Ryan Fitzpatrick. Of the top 30 signal-callers in yardage, 10 had single-digit interceptions.
Tom Brady is a fulcrum. In a franchise that prides itself on a specific system of plugging and playing, he has remained the lone constant for 16 years. He is the star around which the Patriots organization revolves.
Troy Brown, Corey Dillon, David Patton, Kevin Faulk, Deion Branch, David Givens, Wes Welker, Randy Moss, Christian Fauria, Reche Caldwell, Donte Stallworth, Ben Watson, BenJarvus Green-Ellis, Aaron Hernandez, Laurence Maroney, Fred Taylor, Julian Edelman, Danny Amendola, Rob Gronkowski.
The laundry has passed through Foxborough throughout the years. Some young, breaking into the league and shooting to stardom. Others old, clinging to their last years and chasing rings. Some seeking redemption. Others vaulting from obscurity.
Brady is not just a member of New England’s offense, he is the offense. This is a team that, for many years, prided itself as being a defensive stalwart. Tedy Bruschi, Willie McGinest, Richard Seymour, Mike Vrabel and Ty Law were the centerpieces. As time eroded and players shuffled through, national attention shifted from one side of the ball to the other. Brady is a rock in the river, forcing streams of change to bend around him.
In all his successes, Brady has been blessed with great teams. Maybe not the most talented, but by far the league’s most cohesive. He helped lead balanced clubs. And when the pendulum swung from defense to offense, he shouldered the load until things balanced.
Perhaps one of the more underrated aspects of Brady’s career has been his everyman persona within the locker room. A man boasting GQ looks with a supermodel tethered to his million-dollar right arm is somehow common enough to win over the locker room. He is a player who is so talented that his play manufactures awe. And a teammate whose work ethic is so relentless that he commands respect.
The framework of a team is a precious tightrope. It’s an exercise in ego management and a balancing act of abilities. To achieve Hollywood-level fame, all while continually maturing professionally, is an easy to attribute to overlook, but a feat too large to disregard.
Manning has been extremely fortunate, yet wildly unfortunate, all at the same time. Many quarterbacks have been without true stars around them throughout much of their careers. Certainly, Archie Manning is a wonderful and tragic representation of such a player. Peyton has never endured that issue, consistently playing with some of the best this game has ever seen.
In 1998, Manning entered the league with the previously 3-13 Colts, but had Marshall Faulk and Marvin Harrison as running mates. Harrison will one day make it to the Hall of Fame, while Faulk was inducted back in 2011. Faulk would leave for the St. Louis Rams in a trade following Manning’s rookie season, but was replaced by Edgerrin James in 1999. James would go onto become a Hall-of-Fame candidate himself, rushing for 12,246 yards and scoring 91 touchdowns.
Later, in 2001, general manager Bill Polian selected receiver Reggie Wayne in the first round, landing Manning another superstar. Wayne broke out in 2004 and started a string of seven straight 1,000-yard campaigns, ultimately totaling 14,345 receiving yards and 82 touchdowns.
Yet, it was the other side of the ball that consistently haunted Manning. In Indianapolis, his defenses were always suspect. Far too many years saw the tandem of pass-rushers Robert Mathis and Dwight Freeney and nothing else. Safety Bob Sanders was a shining star for a few seasons, but saw his career derailed by injury. Often, the Colts tried to stop teams with smoke and mirrors … and failed miserably.
The same has been true in Denver, where Manning took over a tremendous offense and lackluster defense. In the early years, Manning had Demaryius Thomas, Eric Decker, Wes Welker and Julius Thomas. In time, Welker and Thomas would leave via free agency, while Decker was replaced by Emmanuel Sanders.
In 2015, Manning finally received an elite defense, just as his game was badly eroding. It seems like a cruel joke for a man who would have done anything for this group 10 years ago.
Continuity: a concept once esteemed in professional athletics. With the advent of free agency and pull of a free market, continuity went the way of the buffalo. It still exists, but only in the rarest, most select corners of the sporting universe.
The only professional coach Tom Brady has ever known is Bill Belichick, who is, without question, the greatest coach of his generation. Brady-Belichick is one of those lighting-in-a-bottle pairings that are so beautiful in sports and art. Think Newman and Redford, or Popovich and Duncan. Two truly talented individuals who, when together, become transcendent.
There is a fascinating symbiotic relationship between Belichick and Brady. Coach gave player a shot when injuries hit the team, and player excelled in his backup role. When it was time for the incumbent to return, coach stuck with the replacement. Brady has rewarded Belichick’s good faith with a loyalty of his own. From buying in to the Patriot Way, to leading by example, he has made Belichick’s life and career infinitely easier by being the consummate employee.
Without Brady, Belichick was another Bill Parcells disciple looking to crack the upper rungs. He was good at times, but certainly not great. Paired with Brady, he became a genius. Boasting a consistent hand under center allowed the coach to flex his creativity, to take risks others long for, but have not the fortitude to attempt. It bought him job security and the cachet to sidestep questions from any prying media. Consistency bred self-governance.
Without Belichick, we can only speculate how Brady’s career would have played out, and even if it would have played out. Brady has been afforded a coach that not only trusted him, but one that trusted in him. This level of mutual respect goes so deep that whenever an offensive coordinator left the Patriots for a head-coaching opportunity elsewhere, no new replacement was ever named in the successive year (the only time being when Josh McDaniels returned from his stint in Denver).
New blood worked as quarterback coaches for a season, if not two; once they developed a rapport with Brady they ascended to offensive coordinator. Brady has been afforded the luxury of never having to look over his shoulder.
In an era of Black Monday’s and quick-fix solutions, Belichick and Brady represent a throwback to the fruitfulness of organic relationships.
Throughout his career, Manning has played for five coaches. Outside of Tony Dungy, who was a defensive specialist, none of them would be considered great coaches. Some would be considered decent, and some inadequate.
Manning’s first coach was Jim Mora Sr., who had enjoyed a nice run in New Orleans from 1986-96. Mora took over in the Saints when they had been without a winning season throughout their existance and turned the team into a respectable franchise. Yet, Mora could never coax a playoff win out of New Orleans while sticking around for 11 seasons, paving the way for Marvin Lewis.
Mora lasted through the first four years of Manning’s career in Indianapolis, reaching the playoffs twice but again, failing to win a postseason contest. In 2002, general manager Bill Polian hired Dungy, who was brought aboard following his dismissal by the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Dungy was brought in to cure the Colts of both their abysmal defense and playoff woes. At first, neither happened.
Dungy reached the postseason as a wild card team in his first season with Indianapolis, only to be humiliated 41-0 against Herm Edwards and the New York Jets. The following campaign, the Colts won their first playoff games with Manning and reached the AFC Championship Game, but were handled by the Patriots. New England would again stymie Manning and Dungy in 2004, before the Pittsburgh Steelers stunned the top-seeded Colts in the 2005 Divisional round. Finally, in 2006, Indianapolis would win the Super Bowl, giving each man their only title.
Dungy would eventually leave following the 2008 season, replaced by Jim Caldwell. Caldwell was dragged to the Super Bowl in his first campaign by Manning and a brilliant offensive array that likely could have gone 16-0 if the Colts did not decide to rest starters in the final two regular-season games.
In the Super Bowl, New Orleans ruined the season with a shocking upset. Caldwell was woefully overmatched for most of his tenure in Indianapolis, showcased by his brutal 2-14 campaign when Manning missed the 2011 season with a neck injury.
In Denver, Manning was under the tutelage of John Fox, a quality head coach who guided Manning to his third Super Bowl. Fox allowed Manning’s no-huddle offense to flourish, staying out of the way. In 2015, Gary Kubiak came in and tried to change the offense in his image, leading to a disastrous season for Manning.
In essence, Manning played under one head coach who would be considered high-quality. Without question, he was not overly-hindered by his coaches, but the help was never overtly present either.
When all is said and done, the legacy of Tom Brady will be complex.
The argument for him being the greatest quarterback in NFL history is bolstered by his incredible postseason success, his remarkable consistence and durability, and the fact that he got progressively better throughout his career. The maturation is evident, and that he won Super Bowls more than a decade apart is nothing short of astounding.
The argument against him for that mantle is that his career coincided with Peyton Manning, and that Manning’s regular-season numbers far exceed Brady’s. Whether fair or not, some of Brady’s legacy will be undone by his contemporary. It’s a situation not dissimilar to that of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. When two contemporaries play in an era wholly different from their predecessors, yet are still among the greatest ever, who reigns supreme?
Winners write history, but there will forever be some mention of New England’s turmoil in Brady’s career eulogy. From SpyGate to DeflateGate, some of his best seasons (and titles) carry the taint of accusations and impropriety. Some fans will undoubtedly bring these issues to light, while others, when watching NFL Films highlights, will likely enjoy the performance at hand.
Ultimately, Brady’s legacy will be a Horatio Alger tale. He entered the league with minimal expectations, kick-started his career due to an unconventional circumstance, and then milked the moment for all it was worth. Whether or not he is the greatest of all-time will forever be debatable.
What’s indisputable, is that a sixth-round draft pick seized an opportunity and worked tirelessly to put himself in the discussion.
On Sunday, we could be seeing the last of Manning. If that is the case, NFL fans have been given an incredible display over 18 years that finally has run its course. If he wins, it sets up the potential for the proverbial storybook ending.
Regardless of the outcome, Manning has been a bastion of everything right in the sport for almost two decades. The future first-ballot Hall-of-Famer has stayed out of trouble, performed brilliantly, and being a beacon of light away from the game between charitable endeavors and Saturday Night Live appearances. Manning is what the NFL wants every one of its players to be, one and off the field.
Whether it is Sunday night, after the Super Bowl or a year from now, Manning will slip off into the night, leaving us with the images of greatness to be replayed in our minds. The debate will rage on where he belongs in the conversation of all-time great quarterbacks, depending on the weight one places in certain aspects of the game. The arguments will never cease, and that is part of the beauty.
Manning left all he had on the field, yet for so many, it was not enough. He entered the NFL with enormous potential and even larger expectations. Somehow, Manning overwhelmed and underwhelmed them all at once. It’s a tangled legacy, and one that is uniquely his. It was always incredibly complicated to watch, but unrelentingly simplistic. Find the open man, throw the ball.
In essence, Manning’s career can be summed up in the way he approached every play. He put himself in the best position to succeed and then let fly, confident in the result but never sure how it would be received.