“I think about the game that we lost more than any game that I’ve ever played in. That’s probably a little unfortunate, because I probably should be hanging on to the one that we won.”
Kurt Warner’s words, nearly a year ago. He was talking about Super Bowls; he won one with the St. Louis Rams in 2000, but it’s the Super Bowl loss to the New England Patriots in 2002 that dwells on his mind. They were the favorites, he explains, they were supposed to win and they didn’t. He left some history on the table because they didn’t seal the deal. The deed was left undone.
The quote comes from an interview just days before Super Bowl XLIII (that was last year, in 2009), where Warner dropped another one. He fell to 1-2 in Super Bowls as Ben Roethlisberger and the Pittsburgh Steelers took home the trophy, winning 27-23. Warner could absorb the blame for that one too, if he chose, as James Harrison’s 100-yard interception return to end the first half gave Pittsburgh the winning margin they’d need. But as a quarterback, you can take both the credit and blame in most situations, and ascribing too much blame to one’s self will only do harm.
And none of this should dampen the gleam of Warner’s Hall-of-Fame-worthy career. Despite only having one Super Bowl ring, he simply must be recognized as one of the greatest postseason quarterbacks of all time. He boasts a 9-3 playoff record, with two of those losses coming in Super Bowls. With his superlative performance on Sunday against the Green Bay Packers (his passer rating was 154.1), he joins Peyton Manning and Joe Montana as the only quarterbacks with six 300-yard passing games in the playoffs.
Now, even before the Cardinals’ season comes to a close, we face the annual question of whether he’ll take the field next year.
It’s not like he has nothing to go home to. Here’s a 38-year-old guy with a wife and seven kids. He and his wife Brenda are both strong Christians, and have been through the kind of hard times that bring a family together—two miscarriages, and a time when the undrafted Kurt was still trying to simply get tryouts with NFL teams and a professional career on football’s biggest stage was still just a dream.
Those times are past, now, and the Warners’ oldest daughter (Jesse, 17) has just been accepted to college in New York. The picket fences and chicken dinners of life are still there for Kurt, not lost with age or due to life-changing injury. While his life may never be normal by our pedestrian standards, he has all the trimmings of family life calling his name.
But professional sports are the kind of occupation—unlike say, accounting—where its highest accomplishments are easily measurable. David Robinson, Michael Strahan and John Wooden must have felt tremendous closure in ending their respective careers with championships; the desire and opportunity to do it again have merit, for sure, but it’s hard to feel that anything is left undone when you go out on top.
It’s what they come out every week, every month and every year to try for, right? Each season is just a lengthy shot at a Super Bowl ring. That’s why every player takes the field. You can argue that they’re there for the love of the game, but loving the game is loving the competition. Undeniably, the Super Bowl is the goal, the end-all, the summit of football accomplishment.
With that in mind, if the Arizona Cardinals take home the Super Bowl trophy on February 7th then I’m giving you a guarantee that Warner retires. He’s obviously thought about it plenty before, especially after being benched in favor of starting the rookie Eli Manning, while with the Giants—then two years later being benched in favor of Matt Leinart, then still a rookie with the Cardinals. He’s reinvented his career since retaking the Cards’ helm, but with recent reports it’s sounds like retirement is on his mind again, and with more conviction than ever.
But will regret catch up with Kurt if the Cardinals don’t get past the New Orleans Saints on Sunday? At this point it seems like he retires either way, but you never know when someone’s going to get a case of the Favres.
And it’s often unfortunate when they do. Michael Jordan’s time with the Washington Wizards is a letdown to think about. Joe Montana’s career should have ended where it began, in San Francisco, instead of heading to the Chiefs to die. Brett Favre’s own career has been revived this year with the Vikings, but it would have been an ignominious close had it ended after his ill-fated time with the Jets.
It will be a realization of the inevitable if Kurt Warner holds a slightly-teary-eyed-but-overall-positively-vibed press conference after a Cardinals’ loss in the next week or two. We’ll all feel good about Warner’s tremendous accomplishments (5 Pro Bowls, and a Super Bowl trophy paired with a Super Bowl MVP). We’ll remember him as one of history’s most accurate quarterbacks, and one who delivered big in the playoffs. It will be an appropriate end to almost certainly a Hall of Fame career.
And if he decides to come back, after an early playoff exit? Well, we won’t need any explanation why.
I could see him playing at forty-five: he’s psychologically stronger than any other quarterback, takes great care of his body, plays a cerebral game, and knows his career provides a podium for his beliefs.
When a superstar keeps playing past their prime, I don’t think it tarnishes their earlier successes. I enjoyed watching Jordan and Montana after they left the teams they started with. They were still very competitive and helped the younger players get better. Also, it’s great to see living legends still playing.
I think the drive that makes superstars so successful is what pushes them to compete as long as possible. This year, I’ve had fun watching Favre and Warner. I hope they stick with it so long as they remain healthy and competitive.
He could play at 45 if health and desire continue. His psychological strength, clean life, game IQ, and the desire to use his profession to draw attention to his beliefs make that plausible.
I wouldn’t take him if I had Manning 1 or 2, Rivers, Brees, or probably Romo. After that, is anyone markedly better? How much can he decline before he’s a step back from whoever half the teams seem to push onto the field?