Elite.
It’s one of the most loaded terms used regarding the National Football League. Most often used when discussing quarterbacks, the most prominent debate of “elite or not elite” in recent years has been centered around Baltimore Ravens passer Joe Flacco. The conversation began following the 2012 postseason, in which Flacco, in a contract year, led the Ravens to a Super Bowl championship, while putting forth a flawless performance in which he threw 11 touchdowns to zero interceptions.
See, before this championship run, Flacco was considered a good, serviceable if sometimes inconsistent quarterback. But because of his playoff performance, his Super Bowl MVP award and the six-year, $120.6 million contract given him by the Ravens for his services, suddenly everyone needed to know if Flacco was indeed, “elite.” The debate has raged on since, continuing even this week with Philadelphia Eagles head coach Chip Kelly saying of Flacco to ESPN that “I think he’s one of the elite quarterbacks in this league,” following the Eagles’ and Ravens’ joint training camp practices.
But the thing is, “elite” is a meaningless word. It is a vapid, imprecise way to describe the quality and value of one player among 53 on an NFL roster, 22 on an NFL field and 11 on the offensive side of the ball. It operates in a vacuum, posing quarterbacks as singular entities and not part of an overall system that leads to his success or failure. The Elite Debate is nothing but bait, designed to create an evergreen argument that never goes anywhere. The same facts and opinions are put on repeat, and a conclusion is never reached. This debate isn’t constructive and it isn’t even all that entertaining. There will never be consensus as to what an elite quarterback looks like, and while that serves some media entities just fine, it ultimately does a disservice to intelligent NFL discourse.
The typical debate about elite quarterbacks starts with Super Bowl rings, of which Flacco has one. But then it turns towards the fact that Peyton Manning also has one ring, while his brother, Eli, has two. “Does that make Eli more elite than Peyton?” is the typical follow-up question. The standard rebuttal involves Dan Marino and Jim Kelly, two legendary quarterbacks who have no Super Bowl victories. Then there’s the matter of Terry Bradshaw to consider—he has four Super Bowl victories, but yet has a career completion percentage of 51.9. “But it was a different time,” the pro-Bradshaw crowd insists. And it was. The rules of the game were not as slanted as they are now to protect quarterbacks and promote passing. So does that diminish Tom Brady’s accomplishments? Does that elevate Joe Montana’s? And, we still haven’t determined where that leaves Flacco.
As you can see, there is no clear criteria for “eliteness,” and that is by design. This is the perfect NFL debate because it does not, and by its nature, cannot end. The Elite Debate is actually a Hot Take Factory, and Flacco is just the latest to be chewed up by its machinery. There’s nothing wrong with simply claiming, based on multiple criteria including accuracy, arm talent, on-field results, durability and more, that a quarterback is good, or very good, or not-so-good. But that’s not flashy, that’s not eye-catching. “Is Joe Flacco a Very Good Quarterback?” does not garner clicks and eyes and engagement in the same way as throwing the word “elite” in there instead. It’s a conceit, and it’s not even a particularly clever one.
So, please, can we retire The Elite Debate once and for all? Let’s use less lazy language, have debates that go somewhere and rid ourselves of a word that does nothing but lower the quality of discourse and frankly, drives us all crazy. It’s bait, plain and simple, and we must stop gleefully taking it and advancing a discussion that only serves to fuel the machine.
Oh, and Flacco is a good quarterback.