By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
The end is near. Let the eulogies begin.
It is shocking, this present state. He was so good, so
fast that such a precipitous fall would have seemed impossible just three years
ago. Three years ago. A lifetime ago.
On September 9, 2012, Robert Griffin III rolled into
the visitor-unfriendly New Orleans Superdome and led Washington to a 40-28
victory over the Saints. He threw for 320 yards, rushed for 42, tossed two
touchdown passes and definitively outplayed New Orleans QB Drew Brees, a future
Hall of Famer.
A few bumps would follow: a concussion, a 3-6 record after
nine games and a late-season knee injury against the Ravens. But Griffin was at
the helm for six of seven consecutive wins to conclude the season, a stretch
that delivered Washington’s first division title since 1999 and only its second
home playoff game since 1992.
A hero was born.
By the end of the 2012 regular season, Griffin’s star
transcended football. Bright, fun, confident, brave, charismatic, interactive
with fans, African American and from a military family, nearly everyone could
find something in Griffin they could relate to and/or respect. He was still a quarterback,
but not just a quarterback. He was an entity. A fountain of hope. A source of
pride. A reason to believe, not just in a football team, but that achievement –
any achievement – resided at the confluence of opportunity, a positive attitude
and strong work ethic.
Griffin, circa 2012, could do no wrong. Griffin, circa
2015, can do no right – on or off the field. Demoted and mired in controversy
(much of his creation), his tenure in the town that once chanted his name seems
near its conclusion and his future in the NFL, a league temporarily captivated
by his talent, is murky at best.
I don’t have the space and it’s doubtful you have the desire
to rehash the various reasons for Griffin’s fall. Like everything with the
quarterback, it’s unnecessarily complicated. The factors include a serious and
wholly avoidable knee injury (shame on you Mike Shanahan), distrust between
organization and player, Griffin’s passive-aggressive manipulation,
controversial tweets, personal logos and endless self-promotion. But mostly,
Griffin’s failure can be condensed into this simply fact: post knee injury,
he’s been terrible on the field.
Did Griffin fail to learn or did his organization and
coaches fail to nurture his growth and teach the position adequately?
These questions aren’t unique to Griffin and Washington.
The NFL habitually chews up and spits out blue chip quarterbacks. Is it a
player or team issue? In Cool Hand Luke,
Captain’s famous “Failure to Communicate” speech includes this line: “Some men
you just can’t reach.” In the risky business of quarterback prospecting, there
will always be kids who are destined to fail, regardless of circumstance. But
the burnout rate is still alarming. Literally half the quarterbacks drafted in
the first round flame out. It’s damning proof that the formula for developing
talent at the game’s most important position confounds the league and
football’s brightest minds.