There was no reason for a quarterback to be in a football game down 31 points with just over seven minutes left in the fourth quarter, unless, of course, that quarterback was Jayden Daniels. After his elbow went the way of an inverted umbrella in a tropical storm, he refused an injury cart and walked off the field with his helmet on. Daniels, like most players, has tunnel vision during a game, and in the past has either asked to remain on the field or behaved in a way historically where it wasn’t even a question that needed to be asked. He’s intensely tuned in to—and resistant to—the optics of someone like backup Marcus Mariota having to take hits for him when he’s perfectly healthy. So are most quarterbacks who have signed up for the world’s most absurd job description, where self-sacrifice and martyrdom are praised relentlessly.
I honestly don’t think we can have it both ways. Societally and, certainly in the hyper-intense football bubble, we devour instances where a quarterback absorbs blame for issues that clearly aren’t his own, or stands in the pocket to get cannon blasted by a blitzing defender while still making a throw. Quarterbacks obscure anything and everything that is not related to quarterbacking, lest they be considered, for even a moment, as unserious. It is that exact ethos that probably covered up the inclination for Daniels to walk over to Dan Quinn and say: Hey boss, I’m going to clock out a little early today.
