Of course, the most astonishing detail in this absolutely astonishing story is that Rivers was waiting for Steichen's call. He was watching the Colts game when he saw Jones go down and later said the idea of ​​replacing Jones immediately crossed his mind. Rivers and Steichen are nearby; the two worked together during Rivers' final season with the Los Angeles Chargers in 2019, where Steichen was the quarterbacks coach. Still, why Rivers would think anyone would turn to a middle-aged man who had been retired for about five years to try to lead the team to the NFL playoffs remains one of the great mysteries of our time. After all, Rivers is a grandfather. A real grandfather. Still, Steichen called, and he didn’t call to find out how his grandson was doing.
So Rivers celebrated his forty-fourth birthday on Monday and was signed to the Colts' practice squad on Wednesday. He arrived in Indianapolis with the courage of a father who “trains,” which of course he is. But Steichen seemed determined to get it going. The two men brushed off concerns about his fitness. Athleticism has never been Rivers' strongest suit; even in his prime, no defense needed to plan for the possibility that he might run. And it's true that Rivers knew the Colts' playbook as well as anyone—he used a watered-down version of it for his high school team and discussed it often with Steichen. Above all, he knew what it was like to lead a team under pressure. Even after Leonard was cleared to return to practice, Steichen hinted that he planned to put Rivers at the helm. Leonard was new. He never cursed the odds.
Against the Seahawks, Rivers almost did it. He even scored the only fair touchdown of the game. He led the Colts on an attack that ended with a sixty-yard field goal with forty-seven seconds remaining to take a one-point lead, only to see the Indy defense miss him when the Seahawks responded with a field goal of their own. (Late missed lead – it was a classic Rivers play in that regard.) He can still read coverages and make mediocre checkdowns. And yet watching him throw was – how can I put it? – it was confusing. Even unnatural. It was like watching a squid eat a hummingbird. Or how to see the right tackle in the center. Rivers played almost the entire game from the shotgun. As far as I can tell, his main strategy is to get rid of the ball as quickly as possible and get out of the way of Jonathan Taylor, the Colts' amazing running back. Some of Rivers' throws did not cross the line of scrimmage, and those that did cross the line of scrimmage were thrown ducks. Rivers has always been a fast hitter in the shot put style, but he once had a cannon for an arm. Not anymore. Last Sunday he seemed to have trouble even throwing the ball away. There was a strange juxtaposition between how quickly Rivers got rid of the ball and how slowly it slipped from his hands. There was no question of any pass option or quarterback draw; Rivers couldn't move his legs. At one point he slipped on the logo, stood up and walked a few yards while bodies flew around him. It was like watching a movie that had somehow slowed down and sped up at the same time.
Considering Rivers nearly led the Colts to victory anyway, I wondered if defender– universally recognized as the most important position on the battlefield – is actually very important. Of course, Tom Brady, blah blah blah. But Eli Manning has as many Super Bowl rings as his brother Peyton. But Dan Marino, considered by many to be one of the greatest defensive players of all time, doesn't have it. This question seems especially relevant these days. Is San Francisco quarterback Brock Purdy, the final pick in the 2022 NFL Draft before leading the 49ers to the Super Bowl two years later, a mediocre QB or an MVP-caliber player? Is Jalen Hurts, who has been to two Super Bowls with the Philadelphia Eagles at quarterback in the last three years, any good? Should Sean McVay, the Los Angeles Rams' offensive guru, wear a helmet? Can the coach just come over? Maybe the team needs a better defense, a good kicker, decent schemes, a great runner, and some guy who can take pictures who can stay calm in a crazy situation and won't screw it up. Perhaps the protector doesn't have to be a king. Maybe socialism works!
Or maybe Rivers should go home to Alabama and enjoy the company of his 10 children while he—and the Colts tight ends who got beat trying to catch Rivers' floating passes—are still safe and sound. There are many stories about athletes who have achieved success in their 40s. Lindsey Vonn just won the World Cup downhill at forty-one, five years after retiring from a partial knee replacement. LeBron James was one of the top 10 NBA players last year despite turning forty. We're not dead yet. Now I can do more pull-ups than I could at eighteen. But it’s not for nothing that a footballer’s career is nasty, cruel and short.
Riley Leonard is active. Anthony Richardson returns to training. Honestly, Andrew Luck is only thirty-six years old—doesn't anyone in Indianapolis still have his phone number? Meanwhile, Steichen is reportedly planning to start again for Rivers on Monday against the 49ers, who are fighting for first place in the NFC. My knee hurts just thinking about it. ♦
