Chris Brown, writing for Grantland:
In recent years, however, the situation has changed. Andrew Luck and Robert Griffin III are harbingers of an approaching age of quarterbacks who are both better athletes and better trained at a young age than ever before. … Nowadays, coaches at the lower levels put their best, smartest, most charismatic kids at quarterback and develop them. The new age we’re entering will be something of a Hunger Games for young quarterbacks: By the time they reach the NFL draft, they will be among the best, most talented, brightest, and best-trained candidates we’ve ever seen.
And yet, every year about a third of them will lead awful teams, a third will lead mediocre teams, and another third will have a shot at winning it all. The “best, most talented, brightest, and best-trained candidates”, and two out of every three a loser. This is what I was trying to get at in my Wimbledon “preview” last year: we constantly look for more behind what are largely independent and pre-determined events that have very little to do with the meaning we ascribe them.
And the biggest change of all has only really hit coaching in the last few years: technology. If John Elway were in high school now, his father wouldn’t have to find him the best high school quarterback coach. Instead, Elway would have all the materials he could ever want, from whatever coach or system he wants, on his computer or iPad. Quarterbacks can live anywhere and still learn state-of-the-art schemes and techniques in their backyards. Then, when they enter the NFL, they can be more physically and cognitively ready, equipped with advanced understandings of defensive structure and leverage, and ready to learn an NFL attack. Combine this robust understanding of the game with raw talent and the sheer volume of young quarterbacks receiving this level of training, and the days of just one John Elway or only a few Mannings, Griffins, or Lucks could be a decade behind us.
Except, again, that despite the overall talent level, only one can be “John Elway” any given year. Unless the new technology allows for more than one champion each year.
But I do take the point. The interesting thing about technological progress is that it improves itself. It’s not that just technology allows for improved training regimes and therefore improved outcomes; it’s that as technology improves those things, it also improves the rate at which they get better. For a while, I’ve had an article bouncing around my head about the embarrassment of riches mens’ tennis currently enjoys. I think the most natural reaction is to enjoy it while we can, ‘cause it’s not every year that three all-time greats like Nadal, Federer, and Djokovic can battle it out with each other. But, upon reflection, I’m not sure that’s quite right. Tennis is unusually dependent on technology because it’s a simple game (two players, a racquet, a ball, and a net) and also a small game. For counter-example, consider soccer. Although it’s very simple, it’s not very small: improving shoe technology, pitch technology, or ball technology wouldn’t do anything to affect the field meaningfully. And as long as the field’s so out of proportion with the rest of the game, there’s not much slightly faster players, or slightly truer ball-strikes will do to change the game.
On the other hand, in tennis, improving racquet technology does, in effect, change the court. Players can strike harder, more deeply, with less error. Talented players will benefit from these effects disproportionately, and you end up with a kind of growing inequality between the tennis haves and have-nots. Perhaps it’s strange to have three all-time greats going at each other at once, but perhaps in a decade or so we’ll think that quaint. And unlike football, tennis does have multiple champions every year.