Colts might rue day they made Manning cry
Sports divorces are usually bitter things, slow moving at the outset and then explosive at the end.
Peyton Manning’s ejection from the Indianapolis Colts franchise was curiously polite, more sweet than bitter. It was the down-key end that one of sport’s great romances didn’t deserve, but that fans will likely cherish at some distant point in the future.
“Well, as we’re here to announce the end of Peyton’s playing career . . .” was how team owner Jim Irsay kicked things off on Wednesday. And then he paused for a beat, “. . . with the Colts.”
Manning stood obediently at his shoulder, red-eyed, hands clasped in a too-big suit. He frowned sympatheti- cally at Irsay, as if he felt sorry for him. Were you watching it with the sound off, it looked like the sort of awkward speech a father might give at his son’s engagement party or graduation.
Emotions were pushed out front, but waiving Manning was a cold-blooded decision.
Irsay was left holding the $28 million (U.S.) balloon payment owing to Manning at the end of the week and a generational talent in Andrew Luck in one hand. In the other, he had Manning’s aching 36-year-old neck.
Irsay chose the path of most resistance.
The insiders are already lining up against Irsay’s decision, partly because he will be painted as a historic buffoon if he’s gotten this wrong, and partly because Manning slipped away with such dignity. He might have decided to skip this little party and let Irsay drift. Instead, he hopped on the owner’s private jet for the flight in to Indiana and lined up beside him.
“Jim and I have spoken extensively about where we are today. And our conversations have led both of us to recognize that our circumstances make it best for us to take this next step,” Manning said, voice catching. “This has not been easy for Jim.” Going forward, Manning’s picture should always be somewhere in the vicinity of the words “good sol- dier.” Both men cried. That’s to be expected. How much could you have cared if you don’t cry at the funeral? Once they left the podium, their paths permanently diverged. Unless Luck is at least as great as the man he is most often compared to — John Elway — this decision will haunt Irsay. That won’t matter either way if Manning goes somewhere else and is anywhere near as good as he has been as recently as three seasons ago. If Manning leaves and wins another Super Bowl in enemy colours, Irsay may want to take up permanent residence in that jet. He’ll need escape routes for the rest of his life. The bottom line on where and whether Manning will play again depends on his ability to throw the football, something not yet proven in a public forum. However, his graceful departure only heightens Manning’s other selling point — as the most self-possessed, decent-seeming person in a sport littered with cretins. They are already lining up to begin the bidding.
A very long short list of teams probably willing to give him back that $28 million and a lot more include Arizona, Seattle, Houston, Kansas City, Tennessee, Baltimore, Miami, Washington and San Francisco.
The Dolphins and Redskins — two moribund, iconic teams for whom all obstacles will be obliterated if Manning leans their way — head most prognosticators’ lists.
The most intriguing destination — the one the NFL must be crossing its fingers for — is the New York Jets. Both Manning brothers playing in the biggest media market on Earth, two years removed from hosting the Super Bowl? If that happens, every other league on the continent might want to shut down between August and February for the next couple of years.
That’s part of what made Wednesday so poignant, even if you don’t care very much about Manning or the NFL. Wednesday was the perfect balance between being and becoming. It was the second act in a great drama.
If Manning is able to prove Irsay wrong in the climax, both men will cry again and for very different reasons.