CONTENTS

Foreword by Jim Kelly

On Athletes, Hype, and Football Books: An Introduction to RG3

Author’s Note on Chronology and Verb Tense

1: Nobody Gets Famous by Accident: Creating Robert Griffin III

2: From Bobby Douglass to Timothy Tebow to RG3: A Brief History of Running Quarterbacks

3: Pro Day and the Inexact Science of NFL Scouting

4: The Hotter the Heat, the Harder the Steel: Selling Robert Griffin III

5: What the Redskins Needed Was Quarterbacking

6: Robert Griffin III Is Sensational (But So Is Kyle Shanahan)

7: Warriors and Humans: On Injury, Marcus Lattimore, and RG3

8: Fight for Old Dixie: A Brief Racial History of the Washington Redskins

9: A Grown Man’s Game: Robert Griffin III Is Human

10: God and Quarterbacking: Faith, Prosperity, and Pro Football

11: Comparing the Quarterback Classes: 1983, 2004, and 2012

12: Pursuit of Perfection

13: Vick, Irony, and Injury

Epilogue: He’ll Never Be New Again

Appendix A: Postseason Quarterback Ranking

Appendix B: Football Glossary

Appendix C: Play and Formation Diagrams

Notes

Acknowledgments

Index

FOREWORD

It’s good to see good people succeed. I had the chance to spend some time with Robert Griffin III last year at an awards ceremony and found him to be a great kid with great parents. You root for people like that.

Robert and I really couldn’t be more different as far as quarterbacking style and background are concerned. I grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania, whereas he played for a high school powerhouse in Texas. I was a pocket passer and ran when I had to, usually paying a huge price for it. I basically donated my body to this game, and now every time I take a step I feel it. I know that Robert knows what he’s getting into, but this game at this level can take things away from a person that you can’t even imagine.

There’s a newness and a freshness to his game that connects with fans who are in a constant pursuit of perfection. He makes defensive players look ridiculous with his world-class speed and athletic ability. His style is fun to watch, and it’s probably fun for him to execute. I think it will catch up to him eventually, but I definitely enjoy watching it.

Robert is a part of a rookie quarterback class that is taking the league by storm this year. Along with Andrew Luck and Russell Wilson, he seems to be breathing life into the position and in some ways redefining how it is played. And for now he’s doing so with class and integrity. I hope and pray that his integrity continues and remains strong, as I know firsthand the kind of temptation and compromise that can come with success on an NFL stage.

Robert is taking center stage this season and is in the crosshairs of a media frenzy that extends beyond the most political city in the world. His every word and action is analyzed in more detail than at any other time in pro football history. When I think back on my years in the NFL, it was truly a different era—an era without Twitter, Facebook, and twenty-four-hour online coverage of our league and its teams. Then, there was still a private life that for the most part remained private.

What Ted has written is a respectful, thoughtful book that is not only a book on Robert Griffin but also a book on quarterbacking and faith. Ted is clearly a student of football, and his passion for the game is visible throughout these pages. He breaks down film. He crunches numbers. He takes what is in many ways a difficult subject—a rookie quarterback who is still largely unproven—and provides shape and context to what Griffin has done and what he’s capable of; and he does it respectfully, with a perspective on what the men who have quarterbacked before him have done.

It’s strange that we live in a world where there are books contracted on players who haven’t even finished their rookie years—and, more importantly, who haven’t yet faced the spiritual and emotional challenges that come with adulthood, marriage, and family or the pressures of being the long-term faces of their franchises. Ted acknowledges this strangeness honestly, but then dives headlong, joyfully, into the RG3 quarterbacking fray. With Ted, you’ll learn about football on these pages, and you’ll ask important spiritual questions, all in the context of a young player who is thrilling us on Sundays.

Enjoy,

Jim Kelly

NFL Hall of Fame

ON ATHLETES, HYPE, AND FOOTBALL BOOKS

AN INTRODUCTION TO RG3

Iconsider myself a sort of archivist of football experiences—some meaningful to the masses, and some just meaningful to me. I remember my first live NFL game—an Indianapolis Colts exhibition game against the Houston Oilers in 1984. I hyperventilated when I walked through the concourse and saw the green Hoosier Dome AstroTurf for the first time. I would play on that field eight years later. I remember the first time I cared about my team losing—in 1985, when the Chicago Bears lost on the road to the Miami Dolphins on Monday Night Football and I was allowed to stay up late to watch it.

As an adult I no longer care about or cheer for teams. Rather, I’m on a search for the singular experience: for a player or team special enough to merit consideration and watchfulness. I have a houseful of these experiences. I have the Doug Williams Super Bowl on VHS. I have the entire 1985 Bears season on DVD. I have some Barry Sanders games on DVD. I have DVDs of teams (Los Angeles Express vs. New Jersey Generals, or Steve Young vs. Doug Flutie) and leagues (remember the WLAF?) that have almost no meaning to anyone anymore, but for some reason trigger memories for me. I have a closet full of old jerseys that are themselves more of an homage to fabrics (remember Sand-Knit and Durene?) and NFL Draft Busts (remember Rashaan Salaam?) than anything quantifiably great. Football, like music, was made for archivists. It’s made for that little rush of serotonin that comes from finding the perfect jersey, or the perfect old bootlegged DVD on eBay.

That’s why I take the study and archival of Robert Griffin III so seriously. These will be some kid’s first memories of the NFL.

We live in the kind of world where three weeks into a player’s rookie season, books are already being written and speculation is already being made about a rookie player altering the landscape of the league. While I’m resolute in thinking that this is jumping the gun, I’m also excited to be involved. As an author, I’ve been roped into these kinds of projects before. About a year ago, I was one of about fifty-five authors to sign to do book projects on then–New York Knicks point guard Jeremy Lin, who was a flash in the pan of epic flash-in-the-pan proportions. Seemingly the day after we all signed our contracts, Lin blew out his knee and was on the shelf for the season, but I’m still glad I did it, because I enjoyed Lin and enjoyed delving into his story.

We live in the kind of world where Tim Tebow has a documentary made about him—creepily entitled The Chosen One—when he is in high school and receives a high-profile book deal the moment he steps off the field after his last college game. We live in the kind of world where a book like that becomes an immediate New York Times best seller and makes an even bigger hero out of its subject.

So what’s in it for someone like me to do a book like this, and for someone like you to read it? Well, for one, I grew up reading football books. I read great football books, like George Plimpton’s Paper Lion; terrible books, like Jim McMahon’s ghostwritten autobiography; and great books masquerading as terrible books, like the sneakily funny and insightful The Boz by Brian Bosworth with then relatively unknown Rick Reilly. I loved reading football books then, and I love reading them now. I also occasionally love writing them. I say occasionally because we also now live in a world where it’s increasingly rare to get an athlete to say anything interesting that hasn’t already been vetted by twenty-five PR reps and an agent before it hits the wires. We live in a world where athletes are more accessible because of Twitter and Facebook, and are therefore more ordinary, than they’ve ever been. I’m convinced that I loved Walter Payton more in 1985 because I didn’t have access to his every ordinary thought via Twitter. He lived and died larger than life to me.

Here’s what I endeavor to do: I hope to see and write things as an author would see and write things. I want to see how Griffin handles himself around his teammates. I want to see how he leads on and off the field. I want to know if the way Robert Griffin plays has a shelf life. I want to know if I’ll be watching him in ten years. I want to watch every offensive snap he takes, from multiple angles.

Because at the end of the day, we still live in the kind of world where all we really know about an athlete is quantifiable production on the field. I know that in Week 3 of the 2012 NFL season, his record is 1-2, and that he’s 60-89 for 747 yards, 4 TDs, and a pick passing. I know that he’s added an additional 209 rushing yards and 3 TDs on the ground.

In Week 3, three of the top five stories on NFL.com this afternoon concern fines levied by the NFL for criticisms of the NFL’s replacement officials—a story that’s destined to become a footnote in NFL history but that is commanding headlines today. I know that in Week 3, last year’s Hot Item Quarterback, Cam Newton, was shown scowling and hanging his head on the sideline during a Carolina Panthers loss—defenses seeming, for the time being at least, to have figured out his dual-threat attack. I also know that RG3 appears to do what he does with considerably more joy than Newton. I know that they are both world-class athletes, but that Griffin seems to have captured the fancy of Madison Avenue in a more significant way than the scowly Newton. It is still news for any athlete to capture Madison Avenue, which explains part of our fascination with RG3.

I know that RG3, a Heisman Trophy winner at Baylor, plays like he’s in a video game, and that makes him fun to watch. I know that he made Baylor football, for a brief moment in time, matter. I know that the kids on the fourth-grade peewee football team I’m coaching all wear visors like RG3, and that the quarterback (a moonfaced white kid named RJ) refers to himself as RJ3. Strange and fun times indeed.

So consider this introduction an invitation. Consider it an invitation to enjoy football, and not an invitation to a new hero or idol, because how we enjoy Robert Griffin III ultimately says as much about us as it says about him.

And life being the difficult and uncertain thing that it is, I’m not sure, ultimately, what kind of a person RG3 will end up being. He’s only twenty-two years old. But what’s comforting in all of this is that sports, and athletes, don’t exist to receive our worship; and when they do, it’s always unhealthy and disappointing in the end. Rather, RG3 and football should remind us of who it is that we really worship. This may happen because of what an athlete says, but more often I think it happens because of how an athlete plays and conducts himself. There’s something in Robert’s game that suggests that God made him to do exactly this, exactly now. And that’s an exciting thing to see.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ON CHRONOLOGY AND VERB TENSE

Iofficially learned of this project on Week 3 of the 2012 NFL season, and the first draft was due before the Divisional Round of the playoffs. As such, there’s a sense of immediacy to a lot of the writing—that is, I was writing it down as it was happening, and as Griffin himself was happening. It seemed like this kid was writing his own story from week to week, and my keyboard and I were along for the ride, trying to keep up. A lot of the game stuff is in the present tense—even the old games. I’m writing it for you as I’m experiencing it. The book is laid out semichronologically (high school, college, draft, etc.), but even in the old stuff there are allusions and references to what’s happening today and what may happen in the future. We don’t have the luxury of wistfully remembering someone as new as Griffin; newness is unfolding, it seems, every minute of every day.

Also, I do a lot of speculating as the season unfolds, because speculating is part of what’s enjoyable about being a football fan and a football writer. I couldn’t keep myself from asking questions throughout. Would Griffin stay healthy? Would Andy Reid keep his job? Would Rex Ryan finally bench Mark Sanchez? Chances are, if you’re reading this, you already know the answers to those questions. And chances are, you didn’t buy the book and aren’t flipping pages furiously to find out if Reid keeps his job (he doesn’t) or if Sanchez remains the starter (weirdly, he does) because those items have already been reported, oh, twelve hundred times already. My hope is that you’ll enjoy the newness and freshness of Robert Griffin one more time and that there’s no sense of old news to those questions because of how legit and immediate they were as the season unfolded. These are the things we cared about in 2012, and these are the things that provided the backdrop for the RG3 story as it unfolded before us.

I can’t help but suggest and discuss a few of the resources that helped me in the writing of this book. First, if you’re at all interested in NFL quarterbacking or just quarterbacking in general, you owe it to yourself to read Terry Shea’s fantastic book Eyes Up. This is the gold standard in quarterbacking manuals, drawing on Shea’s decades’ worth of experience as a coach at the college and professional levels. Also, the book Showdown by Thomas G. Smith aided greatly in the writing of my chapter on the racial history of the Washington Redskins and is just a fascinating read anyway.

Finally, you may notice that although I admire and am enamored with young Griffin’s athletic ability and charisma, I’m slow to anoint him on a football or cultural level just yet. This is because, influenced by the spirit of Timothy Keller’s great book Counterfeit Gods, I strove to place Griffin and football in their proper context as created things, not as the Creator Himself.

1

NOBODY GETS FAMOUS BY ACCIDENT: CREATING ROBERT GRIFFIN III

Being a military kid, I was blessed to live a life that’s hard to put into words, Griffin Tweeted about his parents. Discipline. Perseverance. Respect are a start . . . , the Tweets continued. Yet those words are so much more than words in the lives of those who serve & their children. More than an inspirational quote on the wall. . . . They are life. Life [b]ecause it takes a life of discipline, perseverance & respect to have the willingness to dedicate your life to serve. . . . As a kid I experienced this dedication, as many friends saw their parents come back from war . . . and many didn’t. . . . Those who serve, both past and present, change lives forever. They risk changing the lives of their wives and children to protect us all. . . . So as a kid I thought my Heroes were fictional characters or professional athletes, but now I realize who my real heroes are. . . . The men and women who have stood, are still standing, and have fallen so that we may live our lives free are my heroes. . . . Heroes for what they do for us all & what they did for me. They brought my true hero back from war. My dad."¹

In 2011, an installment of the ESPN 30 for 30 documentary series, The Marinovich Project, chronicled the rise and fall of former USC and Los Angeles Raiders quarterback Todd Marinovich.² The film paints a picture of a burned-out Marinovich—burned out on heroin and pot, and burned out on the pressure of living up to his father Marv’s outlandish expectations. There were images and stories of a young boy who was groomed, from the cradle, to be an NFL quarterback. There were images of the pale, skinny,