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Dan Marino
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Did anybody ever throw a football better than Dan Marino? Nobody ever threw it more
times for more completions for more yards and more touchdowns, so it’s easy to say
that Marino is the greatest passer who ever lived.
Did anybody ever play quarterback better than Dan Marino? Now there’s a question
that burrows into the essence of sports — argument.
The premise is that the science of passing can be separated from the art of
quarterbacking. The NFL thinks it can, and it makes the distinction clear in its
explanation of the complicated "passer rating" formula.
The formula includes completion percentage, TD passes, interceptions and average yards
gained per attempt. It is supposed to enable statisticians to compare passers from
different eras. By that measure, Marino ranks fifth all-time behind Steve Young, Joe
Montana, Brett Favre and Otto Graham, whose rating includes seasons spent in the
All-America Football Conference.
But the formula includes this caveat, as written in the NFL Record and Fact Book:
"It is important to remember that the system is used to rate passers, not
quarterbacks. Statistics do not reflect leadership, play-calling and other intangible
factors that go into making a successful professional quarterback."
It could go on to include receivers, blockers, coaches, offensive coordinators,
schedule, weather, wives, luck, even the media among the intangibles that make and break
quarterbacks.
And what, by the way, is the definition of a quarterback? Is he the guy assigned to
call plays or just remember them, bark the snap count and call audibles? Is he only
supposed to get the ball out of his hands and into the hands of someone else? Or is he the
guy assigned to lead, to carry, to will his team to victory by any means necessary?
Most experts sound like fans when applying these deep questions to Marino. A lot of
great players never win championships, but none with quite the résumé Marino compiled.
Marino’s numbers are so astonishing that they look made up. Hence, his legacy evokes
more gut reaction than tedious inspection.
Jim Dooley, a former Bears assistant coach who has studied every quarterback since Sid
Luckman, needs no detailed analysis to state his opinion.
"I thought Marino was the best. He blew out the imagination. I don’t remember
a game where there wasn’t excitement. There’ll always be the knock about the
Super Bowl, but there was no one like Marino. He could take your breath away."
Marino was a legend among his peers, who overcame envy with praise. Former Giants QB
Phil Simms disputed a recent list that ranked Marino 27th among all-time football players,
sixth among quarterbacks. Simms argued Marino should be "much higher" because of
his pure physical ability.
"(John) Elway and Marino are completely different quarterbacks," Simms wrote.
"It wasn’t about the system with them. It was their physical ability to throw
the ball like nobody else could."
Ted Williams never won a World Series. That doesn’t make him any less of a
baseball player. Does the Dolphins’ failure to win a Super Bowl make Marino any less
a football player? It depends on whether you think quarterbacks have more to do with
winning and losing football games than hitters or pitchers or fielders have to do with
winning and losing baseball games. Talk about an argument.
To Packers GM Ron Wolf, it’s difficult to separate passers from quarterbacks. He
made a list of his top 10 quarterbacks when Elway retired, and Marino isn’t on it.
"His problem is he never won the big one," Wolf said. "That’s how
everybody is judged."
But Wolf admitted that his list would create problems since he didn’t include
five-time world champion Bart Starr, either.
Vikings pro scout Paul Wiggin, a former player and coach, also downgraded Marino
"because I don’t like the number of Super Bowls he’s won."
Hall of Famer Don Shula called Marino the "most competitive" of all the
thousands of players he coached, which only makes the failure to win a ring more baffling
and frustrating.
To DE Bruce Smith, who chased Marino for most of his career, the issue is simple:
"Had Dan had a running back that provided him balance near the end of his career,
like John Elway had, he could have won a countless number of championships."
To George Young, NFL vice president of football operations, ranking great quarterbacks
is as unnecessary and impossible as ranking five-star generals.
The criterion for greatness is this, Young said: "The guys who create great
anxiety even before the ball is snapped."
To Marv Levy, who coached more games against Marino and beat him more times than
anyone, Marino fits Young’s description.
"As a coach going against him … every Monday you’d say, ‘Oh my
gosh, Marino this week. Here we go again,’ " Levy said. "He was one of
those guys, going into the fourth quarter with a 17-point lead, you were still biting your
nails."
When Marino goes into the Hall of Fame on the first ballot in five years, he will join
Y.A. Tittle, Sonny Jurgensen, Fran Tarkenton and Dan Fouts as prolific passers without
titles. But Marino easily goes to the head of that class.
The lasting memory will not be the things Marino didn’t do. The lasting memory
won’t even be the mind-boggling records. It will be that amazing release, so quick
you never understood how the ball traveled so far with such accuracy.
It will also be that he earned and deserved every accolade he received as a family man
and a community hero. There is a Dan Marino Center at Miami Children’s Hospital
because of him. That’s a legacy that precludes argument.
Editor's note: Don Pierson is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune |
