The Team Player

THE GREAT irony about Peyton Manning finally winning the Big One is that he didn't have to be the Peyton Manning everyone thinks he is to do it. � You know that Peyton Manning: The Daryle Lamonica Manning, the mad bomber who never met a deep post he didn't like.

The A-Rod Manning, who had the greatest stats of his era but no championship rings. The prodigious passer Manning, who's thrown for more than 3,700 yards in every season of his nine-year career, the only quarterback to do so. The artful orchestrator Manning, who was born to call his own plays--and then re-call them with four seconds left on the play clock, just to further confuse an already befuddled defense.

But in the two most significant turns on Manning's road to his first championship, he changed the public's perception of him, and he did it by letting his teammates do the job. In fourth-quarter drives against the Ravens and the Patriots , he handed the ball off. Not once or twice but 15 times out of 16 plays. How beautiful is that? Imagine the Yankees in Game 7 of the World Series and Alex Rodriguez laying down a sacrifice bunt to win it.

Manning threw for seven jillion yards to get seven jillion commercials and to get to seven Pro Bowls, but putting it in the guts of Dominic Rhodes and Joseph Addai got him his big ring. There's something so great about that, something so football about that.

There is no epiphany here, no moment that made Manning say, "I don't care how we win, I just want to win." He's not the opposite player from the one who threw an NFL-record 49 touchdown passes in 2004, including 11 of four yards or fewer--goal line plays safer to run on than pass on. In fact, Manning claims he's no different at all. The calls he made in the critical moments of the playoffs, however, say otherwise. Forget for a moment how the Colts won Super Bowl XLI over the Bears and remember how they beat tough-as-nails Baltimore on the road in the divisional playoff and nemesis New England in the AFC championship.

Against the Ravens , Indianapolis led 12--6 with 7:39 left in the fourth quarter. The Colts had the ball at their own 36-yard line, and Manning needed to find a way to keep the ball out of the hands of Steve McNair --his 2003 co-MVP--for a last-gasp drive. Even though McNair had played poorly for 3 1/2 quarters, he specializes in two-minute drives to win games, and the Ravens ' top-rated defense dug in to give their quarterback one more chance. Manning's job was to eat up the clock. He could do it by throwing quick in-cuts to Reggie Wayne or Dallas Clark , or he could spread the field, giving the impression he might throw and then let his offensive line try to blast a few holes for Rhodes . Here came Rhodes . For three. For five. For six.

But then Rhodes was stopped for minus-three, creating an obvious passing down on second-and-13. Manning came to the line, looked at his options, expected the Ravens would blanket his security blanket, Clark , and ... gave it to Rhodes again. For eight. "That's what got me excited that day," said center Jeff Saturday. "Here we were with everyone thinking pass, and Peyton's got the faith in our line and our back to run it."

Fast-forward to third-and-five, 3:57 left. Failure by Manning here would give McNair one more shot at a miracle; success would drive a stake into the Ravens ' heart. With cornerback Corey Ivy covering Clark (a cornerback on a tight end is an offense's biggest mismatch), Manning wedged a quick out into Clark 's hands for a gain of 14. After six more runs to wind down the clock, Adam Vinatieri 's 35-yard field goal clinched it.

On to the AFC title game. Against the Patriots , the Colts led 34--31 with 1:53 left to play, and Indianapolis had the ball at New England 's 11-yard line. Manning, to this point in the drive, had thrown four passes for 57 yards to get Indy in position to tie the game or win it.

(Timeout here for an explanation of how the Colts ' offense works: Offensive coordinator Tom Moore calls a play, but Manning has the ability at any time to change it, and he often does. Sometimes he will change the play more than once at the line of scrimmage 10 seconds before the snap. "Remember," Saturday said, "Peyton's the one dialing the plays up, and look what he called.")