Great

Sunday’s Superbowl was an historic event for me on many levels. Later this week, I’ll get back to the significance of the day for me as a black guy. First, honor requires that I take care of another piece of business.

I owe Peyton Manning a public acknowledgement. I’m one of those naysayers who doubted his greatness.

There’s something of a shoulder chip that goes with being a Nebraska fan. Although we were favored by 13 ½ points going into the 1998 Orange bowl against Tennessee, an admittedly lucky win vs. Missouri earlier in the season had most of the nation’s premiere sportswriters rationalizing that Peyton Manning’s pedigree and knowledge of the game would be the deciding factor against my “overhyped” Huskers. Never mind that WE were undefeated and had one of the fastest and strongest defensive lines in the country, if not of all time. Never mind that it would be the final game for one of the greatest coaches to ever step on the field, Tom Osborne. Never mind that we’d faced similar talk two years earlier against the up and coming Florida Gators, PEYTON was going to be the factor that would keep us from the National Championship.

HA!

In our half of the 1997-98 NCAA Championship, my Nebraska Cornhuskers pounded the poor chap on our way to a 42 – 17 drubbing. Led by virtual unknown Scott Frost at QB; one of the best combo quarterbacks in Husker history, and joined by Grant Wistrom, and Ahman Green plus a cast of role players, my Cornboys out hustled, outthought, and outplayed Archie’s son.

I decided then and there I didn’t like him. Press clippings and pedigree be damned—win or shut up.

He seemed nice enough, but I’ve never had any respect for the guys who choke in the big one.

In fairness, Peyton’s numbers were still impressive. When we trounced him, he held a total of nine SEC/NCAA records. He was a four-year quarterback who’d just missed out on the Heisman trophy, and he’d rolled through the SEC to get to a game with National Championship implications.

But I have no love for also-rans.

If you are not a champion, you cannot be the greatest. Period.

That’s a Stew rule.

Its why Elway (my arch-opponent), Aikman, and Bradshaw are always ahead of Marino on my list of greats … even though I’ve never had a ton of love for two out of the three.

Its why Barkley’s “just” a big-mouth, instead of being the greatest forward of all time to me.

It’s why I love the Chiefs, but don’t pretend it’s because of their greatness. You MUST win the big ones to be “a Great.”

So as Peyton stumbled against the Pats, and still managed to put up record-breaking seasons year after year, he’s “just” been OK to me.

Until Sunday.

The other truism of my sports philosophy is that once you win … you ARE a champion. No excuses, no stats, no personality conflicts, no doubt.

And even though the entire Colts organization, ESPECIALLY Mr. Dungy get my respect for their performance against ‘da Bears …

Peyton Manning, the Great … gets a photo.

Congratulations Peyton,

Welcome to Greatness.

Peace,

--Stew.