Manning’s career comes full circle
The old quarterback wanted to tell me a story. Reminiscing is what guys with more history than future do. Peyton Manning is no different. In a rare minute of reflection amid the grind of preparation to play archrival Tom Brady and the New England Patriots for the 17th time, Manning can get sentimental, if you let him.
So listen closely, and tell me: Is Manning getting ready to say goodbye to Denver? It feels as if the AFC championship game will be the last time he wears a Broncos jersey.
“A weird thing happened to me after the Steelers game,” Manning said Wednesday, re-creating a scene from Denver’s 23-16 playoff victory against Pittsburgh.
The clock inside Manning’s head never sleeps. Just as he snaps the football at the last second, after calculating every way to exploit a defense, Manning plans his week of football preparation to the minute. But at 14 minutes after 2 o’clock on a winter afternoon, with a game plan for the Patriots to master and the clock moving so urgently inside his head that it felt like I could hear it ticking, Manning called an audible, and shared a little glimpse to what’s inside his heart.
The 39-year-old quarterback told an anecdote, illustrating the circle of a football life. It was rare, because while Manning is never afraid to be smart or funny, he doesn’t often show vulnerability.
“My second year in the league, I played the Titans in a game,” Manning recalled. “And right before the coin toss, Bruce Matthews, an offensive lineman, came up to me. He told me: ‘I played with your dad.’ Now, I kind of remembered my daddy had told me that. But, just hearing it, with him right there next to me on the field, in uniform, was a weird moment. I thought: ‘I’m playing against one of my dad’s teammates?’ It kind of blew my mind, just a little bit.”
In 1999, the 23-year-old Colts quarterback had met a legendary Titans lineman, who was scarred from wars in the football trenches but blocked with Hall of Fame force well into his 30s. Matthews had been a rookie once himself, back in 1983, when a broken-down Archie Manning was in his next-to-last NFL season, toiling with the Houston Oilers.
Fast forward to January 2016. Now, Manning is the old pro that Matthews and his father had once been. As a rookie way back in 1998, one of Manning’s teammates was a tough veteran named Craig “Ironhead” Heyward, a running back on his last legs as a pro.
“After the Pittsburgh game, I was shaking hands with Ben Roethlisberger and James Harrison, when big No. 97 from the Steelers, Cameron Heyward, comes up to congratulate me,” Manning said.
“I told Cameron, ‘Hey, you’re a great player.’ And then it dawned on me. So I said: ‘I played with your dad. I played with Ironhead.’ How about that deal? When Bruce Matthews told me he played with my dad all those years ago, I thought there was no way I’d ever be able to tell anybody the same thing. But isn’t that something? It’s come full circle.”
Manning is The Sheriff. He’s a five-time MVP. He is old enough to be teammates’ boss, rather than their brother. And sometimes it feels as if the distance between Manning and his fellow Broncos is as real and distinct as the veteran quarterback’s long throwing arm.
But, in his 18th NFL season, Manning’s skills have diminished. His body hurts. His passes flutter in the wind. He can only get by Brady — and get back to the Super Bowl — with a little help from his friends.
“Hey, Peyton,” Broncos running back C.J. Anderson playfully called out to Manning, after they removed their practice gear in the locker room. “Are you going to play Brady one-on-one in basketball this Sunday? And the winner goes to the Super Bowl? That’s the way the media makes it sound: Likes it’s you against Brady, one-onone.”
Anderson was teasing, of course. But it worked. His joke made Manning smile.
This is a far different Denver team than the 2013 edition that went to the Super Bowl. Yes, all the hype for the upcoming AFC championship is on Brady-Manning. Round 17. Winner takes all.
But the Broncos aren’t buying the hype. They have Manning’s back. This time, the quarterback is leaning on them.
I suggested maybe Anderson’s modest proposal of a one-on-one game of hoops between Manning and Brady wouldn’t be such a bad idea. With a sleight height advantage on Brady, Manning could post him up for little jump hook shots in the lane.
“Nah,” replied Manning, “I’ve got no vertical.”
The quarterback knows: There’s not much athleticism left in his old body. But his self-deprecating humor made Anderson chuckle as the young running back headed out the door.
Manning will never truly be one of the boys in the locker room. The Sheriff, however, now has 52 deputies on the roster.
This time, it feels different. Manning still does the serious thinking for Denver on the field. But teammates must do the heavy lifting.
This time, maybe for the last time, the Broncos ride together.