Before you Russ to judgment, consider the numbers.
Only 11 quarterbacks have thrown for more touchdowns. Only 13 QBs have averaged a better yards per pass attempt in their careers. Only 14 other players have completed more passes. Only 15 other signal-callers have thrown for more yards.
He tossed 353 TDs over his career. His touchdown-to-pick ratio was 3.1-to-1. He averaged 29 passing scores, nine interceptions, and 10 wins per season. He’s the only QB in NFL annals to amass both 40,000 passing yards and 5,000 rushing yards in the same career. He was 121-80-1 as a starter. He won a Super Bowl and was a horrible goal-line call away from winning a second.
If you take the name off the back of the jersey, and just look at the stats, that’s a Hall-of-Fame career, isn’t it? Those are the kind of career numbers you’d hope Bo Nix would aspire to.
Alas, that resume comes with a name. And a reputation. And a pile of pure cheeseball high enough to climb Mount Elbert.
The subject of Russell Wilson — his career, his legacy — is, no shock, a bit of a mixed bag within the Grading The Week offices. But when we were forced to reckon with No. 3 one more time after he announced a few days ago his was transitioning from the NFL to an analyst job at CBS Sports, the football wonks decided on the following:
Despite a miserable two seasons in Denver that were the beginning of the end of a good career, it was, on the whole, a very good career. A Hall-of-Fame career. The GTW crew is cool with Russ getting his ticket punched to Canton one day. Just don’t force us to have to listen to his induction speech. Please.
Russell Wilson in Canton — B
When the Broncos sold the farm to acquire Wilson from Seattle in 2022, the idea was that, at age 33, Big Russ had enough juice left from a pretty glorious Seahawks decade to author the kind of dreamy coda Peyton Manning authored at Dove Valley a decade earlier.
Instead, what unfolded was a chain of nightmares. Wilson was a step or two slower than the guy who won rings with the Legion of Boom, and that step or two proved immense for a guy who loved to hang onto the ball too long. With Wilson’s quick-twitch fading, the sack count piled up. He never saw a throw in the middle of the field he liked, largely because he never looked in the middle of the field to begin with. Pairing that with a first-time, pleasant, but in-over-his-head head coach in Nathaniel Hackett turned into dark comedy, with fans at Empower Field having to count the play clock down, out loud, back at Russ to get him to get the ball snapped in time.
The pre-snap operations were far cleaner with Sean Payton in charge, but Wilson’s decision-making and sack-taking drove his notoriously fickle coach up a wall. Payton and Wilson were too set in their ways to co-exist. The Broncos chose to eat $85 million in dead-cap penalties just to flush Wilson out of their system — but cold turkey, in hindsight, proved to be the perfect dish. Without Russ crashing so quickly, so spectacularly, the Broncos wouldn’t have had to turn to Nix, nor revamp the locker room with so many young players all at once.
Denver launched Wilson’s NFL death spiral, but don’t let that entirely discount the 10 seasons that preceded it — Seattle Russ was 104-53-1 as a starter in the Northwest, made it to nine Pro Bowls, and led the Seahawks on eight playoff runs. Only eight other QBs have ever led more game-winning drives over a career than Wilson’s 40, which is the same career comeback number as John Elway’s. The more you forget about what Russ did in orange and blue, the better. For everybody.
Russell Wilson on TV — D
That said, the GTW kids would be pleasantly surprised if the notoriously pleasant, bland, inoffensive Russ is anything but terrible television.
Oh, he’ll look good. Dang good. He’ll be cool as heck. But one of the central tenets of an analyst position is sharing an actual, from-the-heart opinion, the occasional hot take. For DangeRuss, that might be too hot to handle.
