Manning Up
I’ve hated Peyton Manning for a long time. Despite his obvious talent, his meticulous game preparations, and his field-commander mentality, Manning’s line-of-scrimmage gesticulations and last-second audibles have always seemed a little too showy, a little too self-important, for my taste.
His effectiveness during the regular season has never been in dispute, but Manning has often crumbled in the playoffs. And when he has crumbled, he has blamed everybody but himself for his team’s losses. He put his unique brand of sulky arrogance on display last year, when, in a stunning breach of football etiquette, he blamed his offensive line — the very group of roughs charged with protecting his million-dollar arm — for a playoff loss.
Even his television commercials are offensive. In one ubiquitous MasterCard spot, for instance, Manning cheered on insurance adjusters, accountants, and supermarket deli workers as they went about their jobs. The intent, I suppose, was to parody the ridiculousness of sports-hero worship, but the commercial came across as an insult: ultimately, the ad reinforced the idea that most of our lives are not worthy of the reverence we reserve for guys like Peyton Manning.
My list of grievances goes on and on . . . I disliked the fact that, years ago, Manning disparaged Mike Vanderjagt not just for being an idiot, but also for being a kicker (as a former soccer player, I have a soft spot for NFL kickers who, it seems to me, get saddled with enormous amounts of pressure while receiving little respect). I didn’t like the way that Manning handled the situation, even if Vanderjagt had it coming.
All of this explains why I found myself surprised, last night, to be rooting for Manning’s Colts to come back from a 21-3 deficit against the Patriots. And what a comeback, what a game, it was: a pitched battle between two longtime rivals that came down to the last minute of play. In the end, I was happy to see Manning win one for a change — not because I dislike dynasties, but rather because, against all odds, I had come to like sympathize with Manning himself.
Have I gone soft? Did I simply fall prey to the habitual American instinct to root for the underdog, for the guy who has been kept down for too long? Perhaps. Or, perhaps it just seems to me that I’ve been a little unfair to Manning, and that it’s finally time for him to win the championship that he so desperately desires. I’m glad, at the least, that he has put himself and his team in a position to win it.
But if the Colts lose the Super Bowl, and he turns on his teammates again, all bets are off.
Update: Upon reflection, I’m not sure that I’m ready to go with “like.” “Sympathize with” seems like a more accurate description of what I was feeling as I watched the game.
