Steve Serby

Steve Serby

NFL

Peyton Manning on a mission to erase playoff demons

The year was 1967. Joe Namath became the first quarterback in professional football history to throw for 4,000 yards.

The year was 1984. Dan Marino became the first quarterback to throw for 5,000 yards.

The year was 2007. Tom Brady became the first quarterback to throw 50 touchdown passes.

The year was 2011. Drew Brees threw for a record 5,476 yards and completed a record 71.2 percent of his passes.

The year is 2013, even as the calendar tells us it is now 2014.

The Year of Peyton Manning.

A year that started with seven touchdown passes against the defending champion Ravens.

A year that must end with him hoisting the Lombardi Trophy for the second time, raising it high into the chilled New Jersey air at the end of Super Bowl XLVIII.

Before he won his first Super Bowl championship, in the rain in Miami against the Bears the year before Little Brother Eli won his first, there was a monkey on Manning’s back the size of Donald Trump’s ego.

The monkey is back.

It is back because Manning’s legacy is on the line just as it was seven Super Bowls ago.

It is back because when you throw a record 55 touchdown passes, a record 5,477 yards, and fail to win a Super Bowl, you will have to live with history choosing to remember you as The Greatest Regular-Season Quarterback in NFL History, when you are driven to be remembered as The Greatest Quarterback in NFL History. Greater than Joe Montana, greater than Johnny Unitas, greater than John Elway, greater than Tom Brady.

But as the playoffs begin with him enjoying a well-deserved bye week, there are nagging, perhaps infuriating, reminders for Manning his record in the postseason is a mortal 9-11. That freezing temperatures, not to mention the likelihood his rival Brady, who has three rings, and nemesis Bill Belichick, may be standing in his way again. That he was a postseason Tony Romo.

Forget that showing up as SuperMann again at age 37, two years removed from four neck fusion surgeries, is unfathomable, even with the rules the way they are. We measure our greats more often than not by championships. Yogi won 10. Bill Russell won 11. Jordan won six. Mariano won five. Jeter has five. Montana won four. Bradshaw won four. Aikman won three. Elway won two. Marino didn’t win any, but doesn’t need any to be universally recognized as one of the greats. Just not The Greatest.

Manning needs to lift the Broncos Mile High to the top of the football world to be in “The Greatest” conversation. Without a second championship, he will have little argument to stake a claim to the best of his generation, because that would deserve to go to Brady, who is 17-7 in the playoffs.

The Manning-Brady debate is not unlike Russell versus Wilt Chamberlain, or Jeter versus Alex Rodriguez. Chamberlain and A-Rod were better players than Russell and Jeter, respectively. Russell and Jeter were greater winners.

Manning looked old and cold at the end of the Broncos’ 38-35 playoff loss to the Ravens last January that dropped his postseason record in sub-40 degree temperatures to 0-4. So old and cold Broncos coach John Fox had Manning take a knee from his 20-yard line with 31 seconds and two timeouts left rather than try to win the game in regulation. So old and cold he threw the interception that led to the winning field goal in the second overtime.

“I probably wasn’t quite as good as I wanted to be,” Manning said afterward, “and it probably cost us a couple scoring opportunities.”

He wasn’t as good as he wanted to be in Super Bowl XLIV, when Tracy Porter’s 74-yard pick-six with three minutes left sealed the 31-17 Saints victory.

He wasn’t as good as he wanted to be in his eight first-game playoff losses.

It isn’t only his fault, of course. Brady never had to play against Belichick. Manning never had Tedy Bruschi, Mike Vrabel, Ty Law, Rodney Harrison, Richard Seymour and a young Adam Vinatieri on his side. He was too often forced to carry Indianapolis teams with soft defenses.

But we demand the quarterback own it. He is the one who makes the most money ($58 million guaranteed for his first three years in Denver). He is the one who signed up to be corporate America’s pitchman.

Before he returned to Indianapolis back in October, Manning was asked about his legacy. “I don’t know what legacy means when you’re a current player,” he said.

You bet he knows that what you do as a current player defines your legacy.

And this might be his best chance to secure it. His golden right arm is understandably stronger than it was a year ago. He still has a beautiful computer mind, long ago enshrined in the Gym Rat Hall of Fame. He has Wes Welker on his side now, and Brady no longer does. He has Julius Thomas in the red zone, and Brady does not have Rob Gronkowski or Aaron Hernandez. If he and Brady survive and advance, Manning will have the home-field advantage for the AFC Championship Game.

And this might be his last chance as well. His last chance to tie little brother Eli with a second Super Bowl championship. His last chance to hush critics who are so eager to remind him he simply isn’t as clutch as his brother, or as Brady.

His last chance to shake the oppressive monkey that climbed back on his back, and earn the right to be considered greatest of all time. Legacy Games now for Peyton Manning.