When Luck Runs Out: Andrew Luck Was The Quarterback The NFL Needed

I was raised by a die-hard Colts fan. My dad, a University of Tennessee football junkie, would often speak about Peyton Manning as if he was the 13^th Apostle, and I heard my dad refer to him more than a few times as “a man after God’s own heart.” Since Manning played for the Colts, that meant we were Colts fans. It also meant that I knew the names of Reggie Wayne and Dallas Clark before I knew the full names of my siblings.

Despite all that, when the Colts dumped Peyton before the 2012 season, my dad traded in his royal blue and white for the navy blue and orange of the Denver Broncos. The Colts were no longer a staple in the Morgan household, but sometimes I would still find myself sneaking off to the back room during one of my dad’s Sunday afternoon naps to catch a glimpse of the Colts’ “second coming” of their beloved Manning.

Andrew Luck is what I believe would happen if you took the football acumen of Peyton Manning, the kind heart of Mother Teresa, and the smile of a third grader on picture day and put them all into a single, high-caliber athlete. For a quarterback whose talent was so apparent, he had all the cockiness of a third-string ball boy. In 2012, he led a previously 2-14 team to an 11-win season, all while paying a compliment to every guy to sack him. By the end of his rookie season, every armchair quarterback from Jon Gruden to your next-door neighbor was proclaiming Luck as the future of the NFL.

So, what happened?

Luck was getting better and better every year, but by the 2017 season, his nagging injuries were slowing him down. Don’t get me wrong, Luck could still sling with the best of them, and I’d still take Luck with a torn abdominal muscle over Nathan Peterman any day. Yet, as time went on, it felt as if football fans spent more time waiting for an Andrew Luck comeback than they did actually watching him play.

On August 24, 2019, at the prime age of 29, Andrew Luck announced his retirement from the NFL. It was the press conference heard ‘round the world. Within two hours, everyone and their mother was talking about Luck. Some people were more worried about their fantasy football season, while (many) others immediately called him the biggest “what if” in football history. Why did he retire, you ask? Injuries.

Alanis Morissette said it best, “Isn’t it ironic.” Isn’t it ironic that a guy named Andrew Luck happens to be about as unlucky as Chevy Chase in a ‘90s box-office? If Luck doesn’t lacerate his kidney and partially tear an abdominal muscle in 2015, there is a good chance he leads the Colts to the Super Bowl. If he’s fully healed in 2016, he probably plays equally as well, definitely leading the Colts into a late-season playoff run. If he didn’t miss all of 2017, who knows where he would be?

2018 looked to be a new beginning for Luck, but he was still never fully healed. With lingering injuries, he was no doubt physically and mentally exhausted.

Nevertheless, Andrew Luck was everything a Colts fan could have hoped for, a football general with the battle prowess and corresponding beard of Ulysses S. Grant. Luck was on track to become one of the best quarterbacks football had ever seen. He also happened to be one of the most likable guys in the hundred-year history of the National Football League.

In a world where players have bigger attitudes off the field than on it, Andrew Luck kept the spectacle between the hash marks and out of the locker room.

That’s why it is so sad to see him go. The NFL has evolved into an arena for incredible athletes to bolster their egos. Never once did Luck ever blame a coach, or his offensive line, nor did he complain that he couldn’t use his outdated helmet. Andrew Luck was leadership personified in an atmosphere that was severely lacking in such.

In 2012, I boldly proclaimed that Andrew Luck was the next Peyton Manning. (I also claimed that Brock Osweiler was the next Tom Brady, so take that as you will.) The more I think about it, I realize that while there are some striking similarities in Manning and Luck’s leadership and playing style, Luck became his own thing. A company man that wasn’t a sellout. A leader who wasn’t afraid to take the big hits.

Luck’s retirement isn’t just a tough pill to swallow for Colts supporters, but for any football fan. His precision and throwing power aren’t the only things that will be missed about him. Luck served as proof that being a genuinely good guy and a great player simultaneously is a feasible achievement, and in his short professional career, he won over a slew of football fans, regardless of team loyalty.

Sometimes the worst things happen to the best people.