From a lot of angles, Peyton Manning is the greatest quarterback of all time. His second Super Bowl win, however, came in decidedly un-Peyton-like fashion, with Manning riding in the wake of an all-time defense while doddering well below replacement level for most of the season. Perhaps this is karma, a just reward after a career of — with a few exceptions — being shackled to some of the worst defenses ever to run deep into the playoffs. It’s the popular line of thinking, at least, and popular enough to dig a little deeper. So: Just how bad were Peyton’s defenses in his best years?
Here’s a look at the statistical profiles of Hall of Fame and near-Hall of Fame QBs from the modern era — this includes the defensive and rushing support each received throughout his career, but especially his prime. To find this, I took each passer’s performance in a few categories — completion percentage, yards per completion, touchdown percentage, interception percentage, sack percentage — and sorted them by their percentile relative to the league in any given season. I then weighted each season to give more weight to a player’s best years according to value over replacement (like I did with Ken Griffey Jr. here). Then, I did the same for Defense-adjusted Value Over Average for both rushing offense and defense.
| PERCENTILE VS. LEAGUE | DVOA FROM… | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| QUARTERBACK | CMP% | YD/CMP | TD% | INT% | SK% | RUSHING OFFENSE | DEFENSE |
| Terry Bradshaw | 48 | 78 | 86 | 43 | 61 | 62 | 82 |
| Roger Staubach | 79 | 70 | 79 | 83 | 40 | 73 | 75 |
| Donovan McNabb | 45 | 67 | 72 | 85 | 45 | 79 | 72 |
| Joe Montana | 93 | 32 | 74 | 84 | 71 | 73 | 69 |
| Ben Roethlisberger | 81 | 79 | 71 | 57 | 35 | 59 | 68 |
| Steve Young | 98 | 71 | 90 | 78 | 42 | 82 | 67 |
| Brett Favre | 78 | 55 | 82 | 57 | 70 | 47 | 63 |
| Kurt Warner | 93 | 82 | 89 | 44 | 67 | 60 | 61 |
| Aaron Rodgers | 82 | 79 | 93 | 88 | 36 | 77 | 59 |
| Warren Moon | 74 | 53 | 71 | 59 | 70 | 52 | 59 |
| Troy Aikman | 88 | 38 | 46 | 77 | 78 | 80 | 56 |
| Jim Kelly | 76 | 64 | 79 | 47 | 65 | 64 | 56 |
| Tony Romo | 80 | 77 | 82 | 59 | 60 | 69 | 54 |
| Peyton Manning | 91 | 64 | 88 | 70 | 95 | 60 | 52 |
| Tom Brady | 77 | 68 | 84 | 85 | 78 | 78 | 52 |
| Bob Griese | 86 | 55 | 87 | 56 | 45 | 87 | 50 |
| John Elway | 59 | 64 | 63 | 67 | 63 | 76 | 49 |
| Carson Palmer | 69 | 59 | 75 | 51 | 77 | 55 | 47 |
| Ken Anderson | 83 | 52 | 67 | 84 | 48 | 69 | 45 |
| Philip Rivers | 82 | 73 | 81 | 67 | 64 | 43 | 33 |
| Drew Brees | 90 | 52 | 82 | 67 | 88 | 70 | 31 |
| Dan Marino | 74 | 57 | 78 | 66 | 94 | 50 | 30 |
| Dan Fouts | 81 | 69 | 71 | 60 | 87 | 55 | 30 |
| Joe Namath | 42 | 88 | 68 | 39 | 92 | 49 | 30 |
After breaking down the characteristics of Manning and his teams over the years, it’s amazing to see how sharply the usual tendencies were inverted along Denver’s path to the championship. On average, Manning’s teams were middle-of-the-pack on defense, and a shade better than that at running the ball. That was more than enough to rattle off an absurd string of 10-plus-win seasons, because Manning was very good — if not completely and totally great — in every facet of passing the football. His average defense was worse than that supporting Brett Favre, Joe Montana or Steve Young, and the running game was less efficient than what Tom Brady, Drew Brees or John Elway was working with.
Manning did have a lot more help than Dan Marino, but he also bested him across every passing category — like a more accurate, deeper-throwing version of the Dolphins great, who got the ball out just as fast but was more careful with it. And since we’re looking at percentiles instead of raw output, the differences between eras soften, though they don’t completely disappear.
That was prime Peyton, however. This year’s version was far, far worse, particularly in categories where he once excelled. To wit: His rates of completions, touchdowns and interceptions, each typically among the top 30 percent of regular QBs, all dipped into the bottom quarter of passers this season. Meanwhile, his defensive support, usually in the middle of the pack, zoomed up to the best in football.
It’s been a stunning reversal, the likes of which we haven’t really seen from such a good QB before; the only possible exceptions were the final full seasons of Marino, Ken Stabler and Joe Theismann’s careers. Those performances all came in the service of mediocre teams, though. Somehow Manning actually turned an even more extreme version of this formula into a championship.
We aren’t sure if the Super Bowl was Manning’s final game, and it’s hard to speculate about how this changes Manning’s legacy (not that a paltry two titles will ever satiate the “Count The Ringz!!!” crowd anyway). But even if Manning happened to be dragged to a championship in the final throes of his senescence by Von Miller and Denver’s ferocious defense, it’s hard not to appreciate the strange symmetry after Manning spent a career elevating middling and worse teams with his brilliance.