Gifted athletes don't always go along with our program. A lot of guys go where we lead them. Peyton Manning does not.
Ask him, for example, if his scintillating performances these past two weeks signify that he has taken up residence in that most hallowed of all athletic locales, the so-called "zone."
"I don't know," he says. "That's kind of deep for me, that whole zone thing with [Michael] Jordan. I'm just a football player. I'm just hot. Excuse me for saying `I'. We are just hot right now."
That's a nice try. But Tony Dungy isn't buying it.
"I've never seen anybody as hot as Peyton has been the past two weeks," says the Indianapolis coach.
Under Manning's guidance, the Colts have scored 79 points in two playoff games. The way it goes is this: Indy gets the ball, and Indy scores. Punter Hunter Smith ("Punter Hunter . . . who could make this stuff up?) last put his foot on the ball in the fourth quarter of the last regular-season game against Houston. And we're talking classic mix-'em-up drives here, not quick-strike virtuoso stuff. Against the Chiefs, the average Indy touchdown drive was eight plays, 72 yards, ranging in time from 3:06 to 5:40.
But you've got to see it to appreciate it. Right now Manning is not just a quarterback. He is a maestro, conducting a pigskin symphony, and doing so in an extraordinarily expressive manner. It's mostly no-huddle stuff, with Manning bouncing around, hand-signaling to the rest of his offensive unit, or bounding up to someone with verbal instructions. Before the first Indianapolis play from scrimmage against the Chiefs, Manning ran to the right side of his line, he ran to the left side of his line, and he skipped back to relay his thoughts to running back Edgerrin James. He covered more ground than the 1982 Ozzie Smith.
Arrowhead Stadium has a reputation for being an opponents' nightmare of sound and fury. But when Manning is taking his position behind center with the play clock showing 20 or more seconds, and when most of his communication is with hand signals, the crowd, to the amazement of the Chiefs, has been taken out of the game.
"I think you've got to tip your hat to Peyton Manning," says Dante Hall, the Kansas City return man extraordinaire. "He was able to function with the crowd noise. How do you stop that? I don't know any other quarterback in this league that could function and put his team in position to make plays like he did."
At 27, with six years of experience, Manning is at the peak of his game. Not this year. Right now. The man who will lead his team into Gillette Stadium Sunday afternoon is the hottest quarterback in the known universe. "He's making all the right reads and all the right throws," says Dungy. "I don't see how you can be any better than he's been the last three weeks."
