If you picked up Sports Illustrated or skimmed through the sports section of a major newspaper in the two weeks leading up to Super Bowl Sunday, chances are good you came across an article fawning over San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick. It wasn’t a surprise to read accolades like “savior,” “wunderkind” and “phenom” thrown around by reporters in anticipation of the biggest game of the year. What did surprise me was how readily these writers awarded such highfalutin praise to a second-year (and, during the first half of the season, second-string) quarterback.
The phenom lives in Baltimore
If you picked up Sports Illustrated or skimmed through the sports section of a major newspaper in the two weeks leading up to Super Bowl Sunday, chances are good you came across an article fawning over San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick. It wasn’t a surprise to read accolades like “savior,” “wunderkind” and “phenom” thrown around by reporters in anticipation of the biggest game of the year. What did surprise me was how readily these writers awarded such highfalutin praise to a second-year (and, during the first half of the season, second-string) quarterback.
Niners fans were another story. I was not living in San Francisco during the Kaepernick pandemonium, but I read about it in great detail—loaves of bread painted to resemble his tattooed arms, people actually tattooing his face on their bodies and, of course, “Kaepernicking,” the quarterback’s bicep-kissing celebration imitated by practically everyone with an allegiance to the Red and Gold.
I can’t blame them for praising the man who led the team to its first Super Bowl appearance in 18 years. And it’s not as if he hasn’t proven himself to be a great player. But Kaepernick became a mythological superhero before he even had a chance to finish one complete season. Even worse, a large part of the attention paid to Kaepernick over the past few weeks seemed to come at the expense of the postseason’s real superstar—Baltimore Ravens quarterback Joe Flacco.
Lost amid all the hype about Kaepernick, Flacco may have just had the greatest run of any quarterback in NFL postseason history. He threw for 11 touchdowns with zero interceptions and more than 1,000 yards in four games, numbers comparable to the storied playoff runs of Aaron Rodgers and Joe
Montana. But his stats tell only part of the story.
Flacco’s clutch performance game after game is a marvel to watch. Passes across the body connect with receivers deep downfield, near-sack short tosses somehow lead to 30-yard gains and his ability to evade the defensive rush is the first step on the way to the spotlight-stealing catches of
Anquan Boldin and Torrey Smith. Even with all of his success, the media has barely touched
Flacco’s story, and I highly doubt any fans got his mug tatted on their backs.
There just isn’t much to discuss about him outside of football. Flacco’s own father confessed that his son is “as dull as he is portrayed in the media.” He doesn’t have a personal victory celebration and he certainly hasn’t tried to trademark one—I’m looking at you, Kaepernick—which doesn’t give fans much to work with. Instead, they turn to players with more interesting stories like now-retired linebacker Ray Lewis or Kaepernick.
Drew Lazzara recently wrote a Between the Horns article about Flacco that stated, “there isn’t a myth to make…there’s barely a story to tell.” I agree that Flacco isn’t bubbling with charisma, but that’s not exactly a bad thing. Fans are obsessed with mythicizing their favorite athletes and, as we’ve seen in the case of Kaepernick, legends are created before anything legendary even occurs, which casts a false light on their achievements. It’s the manifestation of the public’s insatiable appetite for the complete package: a dynamic, infallible savior. Flacco may never see himself described as such, but the truth has already been recorded in the ledger, and that’s all that matters.
