Why so Much Hate for the NFL's Young Quarterbacks?

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be quarterbacks.

Colin Kaepernick sits isolated in the 49ers locker room "on an island," according to the money phrase of Jay Glazer's insider report at Fox Sports, his team reportedly grumbling about him in closed-door meetings, his coach making the whole thing sound like a scene from The Godfather. It's easy to imagine Kaepernick shrouded in moody Michael Corleone darkness or cast as Hamlet, muttering to dead King Harbaugh and suspicious of everyone around him. 

Johnny Manziel copes with the fallout from his latest infraction: drinking, reckless driving, the mistakes of youth compounded by a chronic case of fame and fortune. Seventy-nine passes into his NFL career, Manziel is a tabloid staple. When he's not making news, the gossipmongers manufacture a controversy or drag a relative's house fire into the headlines by name association. When he does make news, well, Manziel is probably tailed by more paparazzi than Lindsay Lohan.

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Andrew Luck has a string of bad games and an entire franchise crumbles around him. Ryan Mallett—an itty-bitty bit player on the quarterback stage—flunks his audition for a starting job, and the whole nation clucks its tongue at every element of the tale. Robert Griffin III and Geno Smith are not just benched but disgraced for personality defects whispered to us down a lane of ax-grinders, agenda-setters and scandal-mongers.

Don't ask why young quarterbacks cannot handle the pressure. Ask: Who on earth could handle this pressure?

Playing quarterback has become one of the most stressful, thankless, perilous jobs in America. When it comes to incurring national scorn, shame and vitriol for trying your best under nearly impossible circumstances, the president comes first, then the likes of Kaepernick and Luck. If one of my sons somehow grows into a 4-star quarterback prospect, I will counsel him to become a cornerback, point guard, outfielder or the tallest/fastest/most confident fellow in the MBA program instead. The money isn't worth the pressure, the ridiculous expectations and the scrutiny of both your public and private life.

Every NFL quarterback 30 years old or younger is trapped in a pressure cooker that never cools off. Russell Wilson probably has it the easiest, but he spent three years as the most underpaid superstar athlete on the planet, then six months listening to speculation about his future value, his compensation a matter of public interest as if it contributed to the national debt. Also, his divorce and dating life are no-holds-barred tabloid fodder.

After Wilson, there are guys like Andy Dalton, Joe Flacco and Cam Newton—established veterans with long contracts, playoff pedigrees and grudging acceptance as long as their teams remain undefeated, their wardrobe choices and on-field gestures don't get too flamboyant—and they remain good-natured about insult comics shoehorning them into political debates.

Below the Dalton gang is a quagmire of innuendo, allegation and a greasy determination to make a mountain out of every misstep. Kaepernick's TMZ.com page contains 44 articles. Forty-four. Some pertain to the squicky circumstances surrounding a 911 call two years ago, but others have titles like "I'm Totally (Maybe) Banging Colin Kaepernick's Ex." Even in the traditional sports media, no disagreement involving Kaepernick is too minor to comment upon. Arguments in closed-door, team-only meetings are supposed to remain among teammates (by definition), yet the details quickly become matters of public record.

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Manziel is also a favorite of the tabloid imagineers, though he comes by more of the bad attention honestly. Luck's greatest crime is his inability, at age 26, to rise above a general manager who signs golden oldies and a coach who mistakes Abbott and Costello routines for clever trick plays. Griffin and Smith are paying an incalculable price for throwing a few interceptions and rubbing some people the wrong way. They are so thoroughly castigated and shunned that it's easy to forget that their only crime was being disappointments.

Joe Namath or Ken Stabler wouldn't have lasted four years in this environment. Brett Favre? Fuggedaboudit. We are probably shoveling dirt on some dynamic, compelling future champions, quarterbacks who could have grown up or come back in the days before instant white-hot reactions to every interception or Twitter beef. We are replacing these could-be Favres and Namaths with Josh McCown and Kirk Cousins types, quarterbacks who kinda-sorta "succeed" because we expect nothing from them in the first place.

Quarterbacks perform an important function in our society that has nothing to do with throwing touchdown passes. Celebrities and the residents of Outer Kardashia cannot shock us anymore with their tabloid high jinks because we know that most would do anything for a little more fame. Quarterbacks are expected to stand for something and accomplish great feats, making their failings extra juicy. A Kaepernick or Manziel scandal, however trumped up or manufactured, sizzles in the way a Kardashian or Justin Bieber dustup cannot.

In other words, quarterbacks are America's royals. They exist for public exhibition and consumption, and it's nasty work. But then, being a bonnie prince was never what it was cracked up to be. From ancient times through Hamlet to The Godfather, "prince" was the most dangerous title in the kingdom. Your enemies wanted to get you. Your brothers wanted to replace you. Your own parents might see you as a threat, and your best friend was in perfect position to stab you in the back.

Kaepernick and the others can relate.

Scott Eklund/Associated Press

Unfortunately, there is not much we can do to improve the lots of young quarterbacks. Interceptions are always going to bring jeers; allegations will raise eyebrows. Heck, making fun of quarterbacks is practically my job description. The soapy stuff is part of the fan experience, and it's fun up to a point. Young quarterbacks are grown men with a broad understanding of what they are getting themselves into.

Maybe we could be just a little less eager to sharpen the cleavers at the first sign of frailty. Maybe we should temper our expectations and exercise a tiny bit more patience instead of throwing away three promising years because of three bad starts. Maybe we just need to remember that young quarterbacks are human beings trying hard to be perfect in the national spotlight, not characters in a tragedy.

Our reward for a little more kindness and stability would be better quarterback play. The most talented players would be more likely to develop into greats, meaning fewer Sunday afternoons with Brian Hoyer or Ryan Fitzpatrick types who survived by being too uninteresting for talk radio. Some much-ballyhooed prospects will always wash out on merit, of course. Only the best of the best can be NFL quarterbacks. But we need 32 of them, and right now even the best of the best of the best start to buckle before they really get to blossom.

Every young quarterback hopes to become Tom Brady. Brady himself sets an unrealistically high standard. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and win three Super Bowls by age 27 or you are a failure. Brady negotiated the modern high-pressure world of quarterbacking with flying colors as he achieved superstardom, and a handful of others (Aaron Rodgers, maybe Wilson) have shown that it is still more or less possible.

Brady is an emperor, not a prince. His reward for being one of the greatest figures in sports history? A minor scandal swallowed eight months of his life, everyone calls him a cheater and the gossip mags sniff around his marriage.

If that's what you get for being on the top of the heap, it's a wonder anyone wants any part of the heap anymore.

Mike Tanier covers the NFL for Bleacher Report.