Commentary: The NFL playoffs’ hard truth: Your great QB alone isn’t great enough

On a soggy Super Bowl night 18 years ago, Peyton Manning satisfied the quarterbacking god requirements that we now have for Lamar Jackson and Josh Allen. He earned a champion’s rank – and the eternal respect that comes with it – in a way most would consider too simple for a man with his franchise-carrying ability. He just managed a historically weird game.

Manning didn’t deliver his typical record-shattering performance. He found a way to play a safer style in rainy conditions during a wild Super Bowl 41 that saw the Indianapolis Colts and Chicago Bears commit eight turnovers, six of which came in the first half. By his standards, his numbers were pedestrian: 247 passing yards, one touchdown, one interception, one lost fumble. Still, he was the Super Bowl MVP by doing what was necessary to guide the Colts to a 29-17 victory, taking fewer risks and trusting the balanced team Indianapolis had become.

Wearing a championship hat that barely fit his head, Manning gripped the Lombardi Trophy and declared, “We truly won this championship as a team, and I’m proud to be a part of it.”

I remember how low-key Manning was that night. In his ninth NFL season, the chase was over. At age 30, he had posted seven 4,000-yard seasons, led the league in touchdown passes three times and won two of his five MVP awards. Nevertheless, he carried the burden of what he supposedly couldn’t do. Couldn’t win big playoff games. Couldn’t beat Tom Brady and the New England Patriots. Couldn’t transform all those elite stats into immortality. Then when he finally could, he looked like one of the guys.

I remember Manning being happy, but the perfectionist didn’t allow his emotions to climb to euphoria. He spent most of the postgame interview period praising his team and mentioning how he could have played better. There was no coronation. Instead, his understated tone provided a lesson that I often think about when we get carried away with applying pressure for superstar quarterbacks to fulfill our championship expectations.

The greatest misnomer in playoff football is that a franchise quarterback needs to play out of his mind for his team to win. But as another postseason begins, the conversation focuses on that distortion again. Jackson and Allen are the most prominent figures who need to raise their game, supposedly, because they have been chasing an elusive Super Bowl appearance for a while. But so does C.J. Stroud if the Houston Texans have any hope of going further than last season. And so does Justin Herbert if the Los Angeles Chargers want to finish a successful first year with coach Jim Harbaugh in style. And Russell Wilson needs to find some old playoff magic. And Jalen Hurts and Jared Goff, both runners-up in past Super Bowls, need to be more than good. And rookies such as Jayden Daniels and Bo Nix need to pass another test.

While we’re expecting all this stepping up to happen, Patrick Mahomes sits on the throne with three Super Bowls. And though the Kansas City Chiefs aren’t as dominant as their 15-2 record suggests, they’re a serious threat to win a fourth title in six seasons because they have the perfect marriage of the best quarterback and best approach. In the postseason, they have won with Mahomes throwing for 400 yards and five touchdowns. They have won with him throwing for 195 yards, playing clean football and showing faith in their defense. They have won with him dancing around, and they have won with him limping. Above all, they have won with him filling the gaps instead of pressing to be the entire show.

For the most part, teams with great quarterbacks win Super Bowls. And unless Joe Gibbs is your coach, teams with all-time great quarterbacks dominate eras. Notice how that’s different from breathlessly declaring that great quarterbacks win Super Bowls. The most important position in team sports still needs a team to play the sport. That hero mentality dooms a lot of franchises that are too dependent on their quarterback to mask their flaws.

There are always exceptions, but the typical team that goes far in the playoffs is one that shows a level of balance that allows the quarterback to accentuate its positives. The job requirement isn’t necessarily to post 300-yard performances and throw multiple touchdown passes every game. It means having a quarterback with the talent and willingness to read the game, minimize mistakes and show the flexibility while keeping the team alive.

Beware of the high-producing regular-season quarterback. In NFL history, there have been 15 instances in which a quarterback has thrown for at least 5,000 yards. Mahomes, who threw for 5,250 in 2022, is the only one to win the Super Bowl at the end of his banner statistical campaign. That year, after Mahomes and the Chiefs won their second title with a 38-35 victory over the Philadelphia Eagles, he became just the seventh quarterback to win regular-season and Super Bowl MVP in the same season.

In my estimation, the top three quarterback seasons of all time are: Dan Marino (5,084 yards and 48 touchdowns) in 1984, Tom Brady (4,806 yards, 50 touchdowns) in 2007 and Manning (5,477 yards and 55 touchdowns) in 2013. The three led their teams to a combined record of 43-5 in the regular season and advanced to the Super Bowl. And all of them lost. Two of the games were blowouts. In the other, the New York Giants spoiled New England’s perfect season. Sometimes style points obstruct the truth. In the end, all of those quarterbacks would have sacrificed their numbers to be on a team that required a little less of them.

Jackson and Allen are on a long, arduous path to certified legendary status. They’re both in their seventh season. Jackson has two MVPs. Allen is the favorite to prevent him from getting a third. Similar to Manning, both have directed quality squads for a significant period, and they’re staring at a championship-hoarding quarterback in their way. But Jackson won’t rise in status because he threw for 41 touchdowns and just four interceptions and became the first player to throw for 4,000 yards and run for 900 in a season. And Allen won’t graduate to immortality because he took on more responsibility while becoming more efficient and lifted the Buffalo Bills above meager expectations. No quarterback in this field will win a championship on individual brilliance alone.

This week, Jackson reflected on his postseason career with the Baltimore Ravens. He’s 2-4 in the playoffs. Manning had the same record his first six games. Jackson looked bad in losing his first two games; Manning played awful in losing his first three. Jackson must find a place in the shadow of Mahomes; Manning found room, even though Brady owned their era. Jackson has learned to calm down and embrace the journey.

“I’d just be too excited, that’s all,” Jackson said of previous playoff appearances. “Too antsy, that’s all. I’m seeing things before it happened, like, ‘Oh, I got to calm myself down.’ But just being more experienced, I’ve found a way to balance it out.”

Allen, who has a 5-5 postseason record, has found some perspective, too.

“There’s two things I can control,” he told reporters in Buffalo. “It’s my attitude and effort. And what everybody else says, that’s their own prerogative.”

In football, there’s no such thing as a singular pursuit of legacy. With 22 players on the field for every play, there are too many factors to consider and too many players contributing to the small margins that separate victory and defeat.

The storylines always tilt the way of the quarterbacks, and in a year of exceptional play for established and emerging quarterbacks, there’s no avoiding the playoff spotlight. But stepping up doesn’t mean stepping out of body.

The best team wins. And the most relaxed, resourceful stars do their best work when they use their powers to influence – not force – the outcome.