
By nature and by experience, NFL scouts are skeptical people, looking for a reason not to draft somebody, the hidden flaw that leads to failure. In Marcus Mariota’s case, they’re looking in vain (Scott Olmos-USA TODAY Sports photo).
Yesterday Thayer Evans and Pete Thamel of si.com’s “Inside Read” Column posted an interview with an anonymous NFL scout, who questioned whether Marcus Mariota was too nice to make it in the NFL
Oregon star quarterback Marcus Mariota is expected to declare for the draft and could be the No. 1 overall pick. Mariota will be put under a microscope, and the most pressing question he’ll face in the eyes of the NFL is: “Is he too nice?”
No one is questioning Mariota’s play, as he’s completing nearly 70 percent of his passes and has 24 touchdowns with just one interception. But as NFL personnel study him harder, they wonder whether the quiet-natured Mariota, who is from Hawaii, is too meek to lead an NFL team.
“Like if you punched him in the stomach, he might apologize to you,” an NFL scout said. “I just don’t know if he’s that alpha male that you’re looking for. This kid’s a kind of fly on the wall kind of guy.
“Physically, he’s really talented, but it’s going to take a little time. If you’re expecting him to come in and be your savior Year 1, I don’t think that’s going to be it.”
People mistake kindness for weakness. In Mariota’s case, he has the respect of everyone in the Oregon program, because they know he’s authentic. They see how hard he works. They see how well he performs under pressure.
Anyone who’s watched Mariota closely would have confidence in his ability to lead or handle tough competition. His competitive fire burns as strongly as anyone’s. He just shows it in a different way.
As a competitor Mariota has plenty of toughness. He’s 30-4 as a starter in his three seasons, the MVP of both the Fiesta Bowl and Alamo Bowl and two Civil Wars. He lifted his team off the canvas in a come-from-behind win over Michigan State. He doesn’t waste energy with scowling rants or split-flying, facemask-grabbing diatribes. He doesn’t chew ass on his linemen or jab his finger in his coach’s chest. He doesn’t show up an opponent or make self-glorifying gestures after a big play.
When UCLA went after him last year, making hard tackles at the sideline and giving his leg an extra twist in the pile, he popped up and went back to the huddle. He’ll tap an opponent on the helmet and say “nice play.” After a Bruin player slammed him out of bounds, a sideline microphone picked him up saying, “Don’t call a penalty. It was a good hit.”
Mariota understands on a deep level that respect is earned and true leadership is what you do, not how you pose.
His quiet style wins him the confidence of his teammates, who will go to war for him. They trust him.
And why wouldn’t they.
When a team and an individual has had as much success as Oregon and Mariota has, the losses get magnified. As the Evans/Thamel article notes, he’s completing 70% of his passes. He has thrown one interception all year, a ball that was tipped twice. Mariota’s excellence is so smooth and routine that people underestimate it.
He focuses all his energy into making the right decisions and winning the next play. His calm, even demeanor infuses his offense with quiet, focused confidence. His teams play the same way ahead or behind, in a pressure-packed fourth quarter or leading by 20 against a bottom feeder.
Regardless of what happens against Stanford Saturday night, Marcus Mariota is the Oregon’s greatest quarterback and a superb person. It would be nice if the Ducks play a sound football game in a difficult matchup, particularly because it validates something Duck fans have known for a long time:
Marcus Mariota is a winner and a champion, and he will be a tremendous success throughout his life, an influence for good in a cynical world, a resolutely strong and authentically decent human being.
Can he handle the hazing and vicious politics of a savage pro locker room, or the intense media scrutiny as the anointed savior of a troubled franchise? He’ll rise above it. His intelligence and inner toughness make him a great problem solver. He’s already had the experience of leaving the comforts of home and adapting to a alien environment.
People elevate athletes all the time, but in Mariota’s case, the reputation is completely accurate.
He is the person his family and community raised him to be, a great athlete who happens to be fundamentally decent and polite.
Too nice? Mariota is just nice enough. Nice enough to lift an opponent up off the ground, right after he threads a 40 -yard pass between two defenders, while eluding two 320-pound monsters in the pocket, throwing on the run to his left.
He’s nice enough to beat Stanford and win a national championship, then a Super Bowl. Nice enough that even if he fails to complete that ridiculously high goal, it’s just a blip in a marvelous life story.