TAMPA, Fla. – There had al ways been an unwritten, unmistakable – and, as it turns out, grossly unfair – rule about Ben Roethlisberger. There was never any denying his toughness, or his tenacity, or his ability to manage a game. Nobody has ever questioned his competitiveness, or his drive to win, or his willingness to sacrifice personal glory for the greater good.
From the day he showed up, he had “Winning Quarterback” written all over him.
Really, there was only one flip side to all of these positive reviews: Could he drive you down the field in a frantic two-minute drill? Could he turn defeat into victory simply by the talent of his right arm and his ability to make good decisions, and good throws, in a hurry, with the clock melting away, with a stadium set to implode, with a game on the line?
Or a season?
“I always believed Ben was capable of doing anything the team needed him to do no matter what the circumstance was,” Hines Ward said late Sunday night.
“I think a lot of us on this side of the ball always knew that when we really, really needed to get something done, that Ben would find a way to get it done.”
There can be no more questions. The last hurdle has been cleared. We can set aside another day for the debate about who is the game’s best quarterback. For now, this is about Ben Roethlisberger joining an ultra-exclusive club: Quarterbacks who have taken their team down the field in the dying moments of a Super Bowl, their team trailing and their fans panting, and turned a scoreboard – and a Super Bowl – upside down.
It is a short list.
It is Joe Montana, calmly guiding the 49ers down the field in the closing moments of Super Bowl XXIII, killing the Cincinnati Bengals softly, dinking here, dunking there, then throwing one of the most perfect passes you will ever see to John Taylor, the signature drive of a career already covered over in autographs.
It is Eli Manning, knowing that one misstep, one mistake, would lead to the Patriots completing a 19-0 quest, taking the Giants through the heart of history, through the teeth of the New England defense, getting a break from David Tyree and his sticky helmet, then lofting the most beautiful pass any Giant fan can ever remember seeing, hitting Plaxico Burress with 35 seconds left in Super Bowl XLII.
And it is Ben Roethlisberger now, breaking the heart of the Cardinals when the whole world believed it would be rhapsodizing about Kurt Warner and Larry Fitzgerald all winter. It is Roethlisberger, answering Eli, counter-punching the one quarterback with whom he is destined to be compared his whole career (unless Philip Rivers decides to join the conversation, too, some year).
It is Roethlisberger, trotting onto the field after Fitzgerald had taken the Raymond James Stadium crowd’s breath away, after seemingly stealing the Lombardi Trophy away, facing first-and-20 from his own 12-yard line after a holding penalty with 2:24 left in the Super Bowl, knowing all he needed was a field goal to force overtime, figuring there was little point in settling for the fickle flip of a coin.
No time to run the ball there. No way to play “Steelers football” – run first, throw second, manage the game, Ben, manage it – and no way to do anything but say to the quarterback, “Get us there, if you can.”
Roethlisberger got them there, five completions and one scramble in eight plays, four of them to Santonio Holmes, including the game winner, a perfectly thrown six-yarder.
Holmes got all the hosannas for that play, as well as the MVP trophy. Roethlisberger got something else. Three years ago, when the Steelers beat the Seahawks in a dull-as-dirt Super Bowl in Detroit, his teammates won their ring in spite of him.
This time, they were the ones riding shotgun. You get the feeling it may stay that way for a good, long time.