Legacy is short-term only

Six weeks ago, Peyton Manning was the best quarterback in the NFL. He was leading the Indianapolis Colts to yet another division title in spite of a litany of injured teammates. He was the two-time defending MVP, and was making a compelling argument for a third in a row. He was better than Tom Brady, who hadn’t won a title in six years and hadn’t won one as frequently as Manning. Six weeks ago, a majority of NFL analysts and experts would have told you that Peyton Manning was better than Tom Brady.

Oh how the tables have turned. Now, after falling to the New York Jets in the first round of the playoffs, Peyton Manning is washed up, aging, and on the down slope of his career. Tom Brady is the future MVP, has won two more rings than Manning and is working on championship No. 4. And unlike Manning, he shows no signs of slowing down. If polled today, the same analysts and experts would tell you that Tom Brady, and not Peyton Manning, is the best quarterback in the NFL.

Manning is the victim of a common practice in the sports media -- to immediately assess a player’s legacy because of something they did less than a week ago. When Kobe Bryant lost to the Boston Celtics in the NBA Finals, his legacy was supposedly weakened; comparisons to Michael Jordan went completely out the window. Then Kobe went to two championship series in a row and won both. Now he has five rings and is unequivocally one of the 10 best players in history -- almost as good as Michael Jordan.

Reflection and foresight are hard to come by in this day and age, where one little incident or one bad game can be blown utterly out of proportion. Good foresight and reflection are even rarer, and when it comes to predicting someone’s legacy, they’re almost nonexistent. Writers frequently make the mistake of overplaying a controversy or a bad game, and believing that it’ll somehow stain the legacy of whoever was involved. But as time goes on, people slowly forget everything about a player aside from their most notable feats and accomplishments. In fifty years, people won’t associate Brett Favre with narcissism and indecision as much as they do now, nor will they remember that he was once addicted to Vicodin, or that his wife’s name was Diana. There may be a footnote about the Sterger mess, but it would only be a footnote, several paragraphs down after noting everything else he did in his career.

Peyton Manning, as of today, is not as good as Tom Brady. But legacy is flexible, and isn’t really formed until a person is no longer playing. If by this point next year, Manning’s Colts are once again in the playoffs, and if the Patriots go out early, his loss to the Jets in 2011 will have been completely forgotten.