HOME / sports nut: The stadium scene.

The Mystery of Eli ManningCan a meek, befuddled youngest sibling become a great quarterback?

By Roger DirectorPosted Thursday, Jan. 17, 2008, at 5:05 PM ET

Giants quarterback Eli ManningAs the New York Giants broke their huddle, with just 53 seconds left in the first half and the ball on their own 29, there was this scant solace: If Eli Manning didn't screw up, the team could hit the locker room down only seven to the Dallas Cowboys. But 46 seconds later, the Giants had tied the game. Eli Manning pass to Steve Smith for 22 yards. A pass to Smith again, plus a face-mask penalty, a gain of 26. A high-risk sideline pass to rookie tight end Kevin Boss, 19 yards to the Dallas 4. Manning to Amani Toomer: Touchdown.

RSS

This was a historic moment for the 82-year-old Giants franchise, one of the key drives in the team's history. Two quarters and a couple of huge defensive plays later, the Giants had won, 21-17. The only signals Dallas' Tony Romo will be calling this week are for margaritas. Eli Manning, meanwhile, leads the Giants into Green Bay for the NFC championship. Eli Manning, the little brother. The kid who was so quiet growing up that his dad never knew if he was in the house. The passive one, the runt of the litter. Is it possible that this guy could be a championship quarterback?

Sixty-two starts into his NFL career, Eli has been consistent in his mediocrity. Giants fans need a shot of whiskey before looking at his passer rating, which is always in the weak mid-70s. And you need another shot when you look at the interceptions—he led the league this year, throwing 20. The numbers match what any fan can see. Eli Manning plays some dismayingly boneheaded football—throwing off his back foot, short-hopping wide-open throws, fumbling snaps. In a sequence of three games earlier this year, he threw four interceptions against the Vikings (three of which were run back for touchdowns), fired 35 incomplete passes against the Redskins (the most by a quarterback in 40 years), and committed five fumbles against Buffalo. It was the most puke-worthy stretch of football by any NFL player this season.

It's not just Eli's on-field performance that can be dismaying. He is anything but the inspirational battlefield commander that his older brother is. When recently retired Tiki Barber mocked Eli's leadership skills, it was hard not to sympathize with Barber, rather than his meek quarterback.

It has always been hard to escape the conclusion that Eli plays football because it's his birthright, as opposed to having any real affinity for the game. In 'most every way it's possible for the human eye to detect, the older brother, Peyton, holds title to the family legacy. Eli's dad, Archie, never played on a winning NFL squad, but he led his lousy New Orleans Saints teams with the dash of a Dixie cavalry commander, sword in hand, hell-bent and go-for-broke. Peyton isn't the scrambler his dad was, but he is an alpha dog at the line of scrimmage—ordering teammates around, chewing them out when need be, flailing his arms with audibles and directions.

The little brother seems to be disenfranchised, not possessed of a whole range of things—from passing talent to on-field flair to speaking ability to commercial appeal—that have been usurped by his elder. (Eli has starred solo in at least one commercial, for a fancy watch. It makes me laugh every time I see it.) Eli probably calls his brother to ask him what to wear. Probably calls him to ask how much to tip the caddy when he plays a round of golf.

Watching Eli Manning play this season, I find myself thinking of a story that former Giants GM Ernie Accorsi once told me about standing on the sidelines in Cleveland's old Municipal Stadium on Jan. 11, 1987. His team, the Browns, had just punted the ball away. There were five and a half minutes left to play, and Elway and the Denver Broncos marched out to their own 2-yard line with a trip to the Super Bowl in the balance. Accorsi watched helplessly as Elway engineered what is simply known as "the Drive."

That game hung in Accorsi's mind two decades later when he traded a king's ransom for the rights to get … not the hot-blooded Philip Rivers and not Ben Roethlisberger, both of whom were available in the 2004 NFL draft. Accorsi, the old-school football man, bet his career and legacy on Peyton Manning's little brother. Accorsi doesn't say why he eschewed the others, but my sense is that Accorsi looked up from his Daily Racing Form, went to the betting window, and couldn't ignore the bloodline.