To be concise, and cruel, nothing about Week 1 had a greater impact on the balance of NFL power more than the injury to Tom Brady.
It wasn’t Peyton Manning and the Colts playing terribly against the Bears. It wasn’t the Chargers losing on a final-second touchdown, then finding out later it would be the season’s last play for Shawne Merriman.
It wasn’t the disappointing starts of Jacksonville, Seattle and Cleveland, nor was it the encouraging beginnings of Donovan McNabb, Brett Favre, Tony Romo, Aaron Rodgers and Jay Cutler.
The Patriots were one of the best teams in history last season. Even if they didn’t win it all, the Patriots were the team to beat this year. Brady was the best player on the best team.
And now that Brady is gone with a season-ending knee injury, the odds of winning the Super Bowl for every team just got better.
“You lose one of the best players in the league, it’s hard to overcome, but they’ll find ways,” Broncos receiver Brandon Stokley said.
Removing Brady may open up the AFC, but this is not good for the NFL. Losing Brady dilutes the product, in the way the NBA suffered during Michael Jordan’s temporary retirement from 1993-94. If a team other than the Pats represent the AFC in Super Bowl XLIII, it will be remembered as the team that triumphed in The Year Without Brady.
“For the league it’s not good,” said Broncos tight end Daniel Graham, a Brady teammate from 2002-06. “But like every other team, you lose guys every week. I’m sure they’ll do what they’ve been doing since I was there, putting in the next guy in line and keep it moving.”
The next quarterback for the Patriots, though, didn’t even start in college. Granted, Matt Cassel is the only QB in history to back up Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart and Tom Brady in a seven-year stretch. And with or without Brady, the Patriots’ intricate passing system is something to behold.
But New England will lose some intimidation factor this year. Opponents will not go into the game fearing Cassel.
Tales of two quarterbacks
They have watches to time speed. Weights to measure strength. Film to grade ability. But toughness? There are no consistent patterns. Look at quarterbacks Eli Manning and Vince Young.
Manning’s strength of leadership was ridiculed at this time last year by former teammate Tiki Barber. Manning had grown up in privilege in the Garden District of New Orleans, the son of a great NFL quarterback, the younger brother of another great quarterback.
In a late November game against Minnesota last year, Manning threw four interceptions. Three were returned for touchdowns. The Giants were humiliated in front of their home crowd 41-17.
Manning was mercilessly booed by Giants fans, hammered by the New York, pack-of-dogs press.
Manning, though, was tougher than anyone knew. He led the Giants to wins the following two weeks, then four wins in the postseason, including the Super Bowl against the Patriots.
“He’s gone from some quiet, unassuming quarterback who doesn’t have command in the huddle, to a guy who has ice water in his veins and is unflappable,” ESPN analyst and former Broncos guard Mark Schlereth said.
Then there’s Young. At 6-foot-5, 233 pounds, he is large and strong by quarterback standards. He was raised by his mom and grandmother in a tough Houston neighborhood. His father spent time in prison on a burglary conviction. As a kid, Young was nearly killed when he was struck by a car while riding his bike.
Young knows tough. Yet, when he heard boos in Nashville last week, Young ran away. Don’t be surprised if Young is essentially finished. No matter how hard he tries to show toughness from now on, his teammates will always wonder if he’ll quit.
“His teammates are going to say the right things,” Schlereth said. “But when you’re in that huddle and you call the play and you break that huddle, you’re going to go, ‘We don’t have a chance.’ I’ve been in that huddle before.”
