There are what-ifs: Lowercase letters all around.
There are What-Ifs: You get varsity letters for the “W” and the “I,” for added effect, for added emphasis.
There are WHAT-IFs: All-caps, unmistakable to the eye even without bifocals or magnifying glasses.
Then there’s emptying the whole supply case, caps, bold faced, italics, whole bit, the kind of WHAT-IF that will haunt you forever.
That’s the kind of what-if we’re talking about here. It isn’t an umpire calling a strike a ball, then a hitter launching the next one into the upper-deck (what-if). It isn’t lamenting, say, Patrick Ewing’s Achilles tendon that kept him out of the ’99 Finals (What-If) or the ill-fated taxi ride Duaner Sanchez took at the trading deadline in 2006 (WHAT-IF).
Those all haunt. WHAT-IFs really haunt.
And every now again, it’s useful to recount one of the all-time WHAT-IFs, especially in a week when Johnny Manziel did what everyone expected he would do for months, which is to declare for the NFL draft at the earliest possible opportunity. It’s the kind of move almost every high-profile football player does now, almost by rote.
It’s the kind of move that, if a certain quarterback named Peyton Manning were so inclined, could have altered the history of the Jets forever. Could have? Who are we kidding? Of course it would have.
The Jets had finished 1-15, but they had just pried Bill Parcells away from the Patriots. And they also had the No. 1 pick in the entire draft, in a year when that 1997 draft could well have included the greatest gift a draft can yield: a franchise quarterback. And not just any franchise quarterback. But Peyton Manning, University of Tennessee, a junior contemplating staying or going.
“That,” Phil Simms told me a few years ago, “would have been a match made in heaven, because you’re talking about two guys who see the game exactly the same way.”
Simms had lent his counsel to both parties. He had told Parcells that Manning was as good a college quarterback as he ever had seen. He had told the Mannings there wasn’t a better fit for Peyton’s ambitions and skills than Parcells.
“I gave them both a thumbs-up,” Simms said.
But there was a catch, which will forever shadow everything about the Jets’ occasionally bright but overwhelmingly frustrating past 15 years: Manning wanted a guarantee that Parcells would draft him. It seems remarkable to think about now, unless you realize that a year later, it was no guarantee that the Colts would pick Manning over Ryan Leaf.
Simms had told Peyton directly: “If you have a chance to play for Bill Parcells, you run a 4.3 sprint to get there.”
Team Manning seemed ready to make that sprint.
Seemed eager, even.
But Parcells wouldn’t commit. Or couldn’t. Or maybe wasn’t entirely sold that they should use that pick on a quarterback instead of, say, Orlando Pace (who eventually did go No. 1 after the Rams made a deal with the Jets).
Or maybe …
“I think Peyton wanted to stay all along,” his father, Archie, said not long ago. “I think Bill Parcells being in New York made what was going to be an easy decision harder for him.”
Things worked out fine for Peyton, even if he has only one championship in his career to date, or exactly as many as the Jets have dating to 1960. And the Jets actually have gotten the better of Peyton in two of the three times they’ve squared off in the playoffs. Still …
Fifteen years of Peyton? If you’re the Jets, do you take your chances with that? Bold faced, italics, all caps?
Whack Back at Vac
Greg Teta: Here’s my New Year’s resolution: I will not pay attention to anyone in the media who supports the cold-weather, outdoor Super Bowl who is not going to actually sit outside in the elements for the same amount of time as the average attending fan — figure about 5-11 p.m., if not longer.
Vac: That’s the part that troubles me most. I think pro football players could play on the North Pole if they had to. But watching miserable fans forced to sit through an icy day for hour after hour of pregame … that’s hard to ponder.
Richard Siegelman: For the Cincinnati Bengals to ever get back to the Super Bowl, it looks like they’ll need to sign Boomer Esiason away from WFAN.
Vac: Actually, I think I’d take Carton over Andy Dalton at this point.
@dArefin: Am I missing something? Doesn’t it take three hours to cross the GW Bridge on a good day?
@MikeVacc: All I know is, someone has clearly been paying back a grudge on the Cross Bronx Expressway for 40 straight years.
Bob Leise: Maybe there should be a 2014 version of Coach Taylor’s old adage for the NBA’s Eastern Conference: “Bloodshot eyes, no heart, can’t win!”
Vac: Bob has quickly learned the easiest way into the WhackBacks is to make a quality “Friday Night Lights” reference.
Vac’s Whacks
I guess in the grand scheme of things, you would have to say that old Buddy Ryan probably thought the Rex-stays/Gilbride-goes storylines the past few weeks shook out exactly right, no?
Philip Rivers saw his two draft contemporaries and the guy he replaced win five Super Bowls across the last eight years. There are worse rooting interests than that for those with no dog in the NFL hunt.
For what it’s worth, here’s a good historical guidepost for Mike Piazza, who went from 57.8 percent in Year 1 of Cooperstown eligibility to 62.2 percent in Year 2. Roy Campanella: 57.2 to 65.2 to 69.9 to 72.4 to 79.4. And once you’re in, nobody cares how long it took.
Michael Strahan (below) should get the nod for Canton this year. And here are two things his old teammate, Tiki Barber, should get in 2014: forgiveness from Giants fans, and serious consideration to be a part of next year’s nominees.