Peyton Manning's Problem: On the Outside Looking in (Not Just at the Playoffs)

I have never been the kind of fan to paint my chest or brave the elements all night to get tickets or even drive for more than an hour to a game.

However, there is something irrational about my like of Peyton Manning. And it isn't just his scandal-less lifestyle (since college) and his approachable, humorous ad campaigns (he would be excellent as a color commentator). I am an absolute fanatic for how he plays the game—so much so that I kind of hate both the Patriots and the Chargers.

And it might be as much Tony Dungy's scheme than anything, but Manning and the Colts have ridden the knife edge for years. The indictment of them being "built for the regular season" isn't totally inaccurate. They're bread and butter was surgical precision: dictate to the defense at the line, score touchdowns and bend but not break on defense. And when a surgeon is off by ever so much, disastrous things can happen.

Recently, Manning's rating has tanked and his pick-six-a-thon has been a jaw-slackening sight to behold. It sort of reminded me of the quicksand quote from The Replacements, about how one can make a mistake, and then another, and then another and suddenly they're waist deep (looking up at the Jaguars for help).

And all Peyton has to dig himself out is that smooth, efficient throwing motion he's had for his entire life, except that motion is only mostly good for digging. A coach of mine said once, in support of a strong running game, is that only three things can happen during a pass play, and two of them aren't good.

Tony Dungy sagely pointed out during the Sunday Night Football broadcast that he hadn't seen his former QB like this since he lost Edgerrin James in '01. Shudder. And while I don't live in Indiana, I can almost hear the prayers to heaven that the four-time MVP can spark the kind of magic that saw him beating Miami last year with less than 15 minutes of possession time. 

Like I said, I'm a fan, but I'm not sure it's going to happen. There are debates about just how much losing the starters around him hurts the Colts' offensive potential, and how much more pressure it puts on the defense to be more prolific while there are injuries on that side as well.

Some say that Manning shouldn't and can't make excuses; just throw the ball to the next guy. Some say that that's part of the problem: he's trying to do too much and forcing things, thrashing in quicksand.

It occurred to me that the injuries haven't shut him down, but slowed him down, just enough for the defenses he was always inches ahead of to catch up. Because every team fears him, has feared him for the last decade. And likewise, there aren't hours of game tape on his style. There are days.

And while I really cheer for someone like Michael Vick, I honestly believe that Peyton Manning will be the blueprint for signal calling in the NFL past 2020 (assuming they get those labor issues sorted out; 18 games, seriously?): the savvy, adaptable coach-on-the-field type that doesn't need the physical ability because he has put in the preparation and repetition.

But I digress, because it isn't about the future. It's about this season, this year. And now more than ever is the time for him to secure his legacy as a quarterback for the ages with vision enough to see what's happening, and turn it to his favor. Admittedly, all I can do is watch. And hope.