How might Matt Leinart fail to live up to expectations in the NFL? Let me count the ways...
(1) The Heisman Curse? Think about the recent list of Heisman-winning QBs. Jason White. Gino Torretta. Eric Crouch. Chris Weinke. Danny Wuerffel. Ty Detmer. Andre Ware. Charlie Ward. Not the kinds of names that would have sounded sexy spewing from John Facenda's pie-hole over an NFL Films music bed.
In fact, of the last nine quarterbacks to win the statuette, only one, Carson Palmer, has amounted to much. Unless you consider Expert Field Goal Holder, Minor League First Baseman, Journeyman NBA Point Guard, or Lousy Regional Color Commentator to be great results.
And isn't that the crux of the issue when discussing Leinart's potential greatness? People are already calling him great. Saying he'll be a great NFL quarterback. How does one define "greatness"? Sparkling TD-to-interception ratio? Multiple championships? Bernie Kosar? What, exactly, is expected of Matt Leinart?
Let's assume Carson Palmer goes on to a great NFL career. What are the odds that Leinart follows? From the same school? How often does that happen? Other than the great Jennifer Aniston, how many actors from the cast of Friends have made it big?
(2) He's a lefty. And he's certainly no Steve Young (232 TDs, 107 INTs, Hall of Fame). Although he might be a Boomer Esiason (247, 184, one Super Bowl loss). Or even a Ken Stabler (167, 176).
Other than Michael Vick, who might actually be a running back that lines up over center, there's not much left. Get it? Left.
Among lefties who have achieved anything in the NFL, that pretty much leaves Mark Brunell, Cade McNown and Scott Mitchell. (Think: Cinderella and her ugly stepsisters.)
Let's assume Leinart's pro numbers fall somewhere between the disparate levels of the two above southpaw trios. Would that be worthy of all the hype? And, more importantly, does it justify a #1 pick? These are rhetorical questions. Like: Is Saddam Hussein a decent human being? Or: Can Chuck Norris ever win an Oscar?
(3) The Party Factor. Getting trashed, allegedly, during Heisman week in New York and hitting on random chicks in New York bars. Awesome. The new Joe Namath, whose key career NFL stats were, surprisingly, 173 TDs and 220 interceptions. Leinart keeps up his current pace and he'll be right on track. Legendary and lovable sports icon, sure, but mediocre QB.
(4) Mobility. You can't spell Leinart without "inert." Have you seen him move? Better than Evander Holyfield on Dancing with the Stars. But not by much. And his release is nowhere near the quickness of Dan Marino's; closer to the speed of our withdrawal from Iraq.
(5) Arm. Not the strongest or most accurate. Some of his biggest college tosses were turned into big plays by acrobatic catches or pure luck. Don't believe me? Go look at tape of last year's BCS title game.
(6) Brain. Somewhere between Dartmouth's Jay Fiedler and Terry Bradshaw.
(7) The Charmed Life-That's-Soon-to-Expire Factor. He strolls into the perfect situation with USC in the last phase of its rebuilding process with high profile new coach Pete Carroll, genius offensive co-cordinator Norm Chow, flashy offensive weaponry like Mike Williams, Reggie Bush and LenDale White, and a gargantuan male escort service comprised of agile 300-pound linemen to protect him. Come on! This scenario is sweet as candy. And who doesn't like a Junior Mint?
So, let's speculate...
Maybe Matt Leinart spends the first part of his pro career running for his life (or getting sacked repeatedly) in San Francisco or Houston. Just like Steve Young did in Tampa Bay. Then, if Leinart is lucky, he eventually lands in a better system. Or maybe he just throws a hissy fit before the NFL Draft and trashes the worst team, passes Go, collects $200 million, and proceeds directly to the team of his choice. Worked for Eli Manning.
A goalie who's suffered major head trauma, both on the field, and off, thanks to a careless moment by my mom in a '61 VW Beetle. But, unfortunately for you, I still have the use of my fingers. Oh, and one more thing...love your suit.
