Entering The Mind Of Peyton Manning

Yet, there he was: the brooding prince. Sulking on the sidelines in the snow banks of Foxborough. Bested once again by his nemesis Tom Brady.

Brady shouldn’t have been there. Ringed by police officers and doused in confetti, he was the anti-Manning. Drafted in the sixth round. He barely eked out Tim Rattay. He rode the bench, Bledsoe got hurt, and Brady was ready.

Where Manning released herky-jerky pre-snap audibles, Brady remained cool and composed. He kept to himself while Peyton Manning never met a commercial he didn’t like. DirecTV, MasterCard, Gatorade, Oreos, you get the picture. The ads were funny, yes, but there were too many of them. The Patriots linemen chanted his “cut that meat” commercial catchphrase right back at him.

It wasn’t until January 2007 that Manning finally vanquished Brady and won back America. He roared back from a 21-3 AFC Championship deficit and stunned the Patriots on their own turf. Manning conquered his demons before silencing Brian Urlacher and the Dan Marino whispers in the Super Bowl.

Meanwhile, the Golden Boy lost some of his luster. SpyGate happened. And slowly but surely, Brady went Hollywood. He married Gisele. He grew out the Justin Bieber haircut. He showed up in glossy girly magazines in Uggs. He lost to Peyton’s younger brother. Twice.

You could retire. You’re one wrenching Ray Lewis hit away from paralysis. America would understand. Go home, play with the twins. Write that book divulging your QB secrets you’ve always kicked around. Or pick up the acting classes again. You can be a funny guy:

But deep down you know you can’t. It’s not about the money. You made $26 million last year. It’s all about the pride. It’s about what they’ll say in sleepy barbershops across the country long after you’re gone.

“Dan Marino with a ring” or “A more accurate Brett Favre.” One of the greats, but not the greatest. That superlative is reserved for the quarterbacks with Super Bowl rings. Plural. A rarefied air breathed only by Montana, Bradshaw, and, someday Brady.

You will be revered, no question. Your gaudy stats and Ironman tenacity will forever link you to Brett Favre. But you did it differently.