The Shoutbox
Peyton Manning is a very good football player, but his lack of clutch play prevents him from being a great football player.

Joe Montana = Great
Troy Aikman = Great

Peyton Manning = Very Good

Those are my definitions
See, this I agree with, but I think it is different than what was implied before. Saying that Manning will cease to be "great" until he delivers when it matters most is reasonable (if not my line of thinking, exactly). Ditto for A-Rod. But suggesting that neither of them will ever do so because they possess some inalterable choking gene is just silly.

These are professional athletes. They got where they are by performing in pressure situations. Rodriguez and Manning would've had to excel in what, at the time, were their most tense moments to get to this level to begin with. A-Rod must've done well when the scouts first started showing up at his high school games to garner the attention he did. Clutch. Manning had to excel in two consecutive playoff games in 2003 just to earn the right to play New England in the first place. Clutch. Are we really to believe that their insane levels of talent are nullified in certain pressure situations, even though they've gotten where they are only by triumphing in such pressure situations for most of their adult lives?
Sounds like we have a difference of definitions of greatness here: Does being consistently good year after year make you a great player? Or are you a great player if you come through in a pinch? If you can do the second but not the first, are you greater than the player who's great on average but might not come through in a pinch?

Hmmm ... tough call, grasshoppa.
I don't think it's a philosophical difference, because I completely agree that a player's performance in key situations should be factored into their greatness. I think the difference is about how we reach our conclusions: do we use facts, or vague unquantifiables and scattered memories?

Regardless, while you can make a case for greatness sans "clutch" performance, you certainly can't call someone great for the opposite. If we could, we'd have already inducted Edgar Renteria into the Hall of Fame right now for his single to end the 1997 World Series. Sports history is filled with players who came through in big moments, but never really did anything else particularly impressive. Francisco Cabrera, anyone?
Those examples make sense to me. There's nothing more frustrating than watching your otherwise-great quarterback screw up yet another crucial play in an important game. We've had quarterbacks like that... *cough*kordell*cough*
Ever since he came to the Yankmees, he has choked. I don't care what numbers say, in the clutch at bat (Not at bats ) he has choked.
Okay. What at-bats were those? Which handful of scattered at-bats have you arbitrarily decided are the best indicator of his performance under pressure? Moreover, how have you decided that they constitute a better summary than his total number of at-bats in playoff games (all of which are of crucial importance)?

Same with Peyton. When it really matters *COUGH*NEWENGLANDPATRIOTS*COUGH* he chokes
So when you said he had "atrocious playoff numbers," what you really meant was "actually, he's very good in the playoffs, just not against New England"? To use an appropriate analogy, you're shifting the goal posts.
Peyton Manning is a very good football player, but his lack of clutch play prevents him from being a great football player.

Joe Montana = Great
Troy Aikman = Great

Peyton Manning = Very Good

Those are my definitions
Sounds like we have a difference of definitions of greatness here: Does being consistently good year after year make you a great player? Or are you a great player if you come through in a pinch? If you can do the second but not the first, are you greater than the player who's great on average but might not come through in a pinch?

Hmmm ... tough call, grasshoppa.
Ever since he came to the Yankmees, he has choked. I don't care what numbers say, in the clutch at bat (Not at bats ) he has choked.

Same with Peyton. When it really matters *COUGH*NEWENGLANDPATRIOTS*COUGH* he chokes
Bump.
Peyton and A-Rod have atrocious playoff numbers.
A-Rod's average is .305 in postseason play, compared to .307 in the regular season. His slugging percentage is lower, but his OBP is a bit higher. He's made a grand total of one error in 271.2 innings of postseason play.

Peyton, meanwhile, has completed about 60% of his passes in the postseason, averaged over 270 yards per game in the air, and has about twice as many touchdowns as interceptions.

My next question, then, should be obvious: "atrocious" how?

I don't like A-Rod at all, because he is a selfish, fake (His persona) loser. He always chokes in the clutch.
Except when he doesn't. Nobody talks about it when he single-handedly carries the team on his back in the 2004 Division Series against the Twins, batting .421 and reaching base in nearly half of his at-bats. Nobody notices that Rodriguez has a better postseason OPS than the oft-worshipped Derek Jeter, as well; a ridiculous difference of roughly 80 points.

What reason do you have to believe that A-Rod "always chokes in the clutch"?
Dan Marino didn't choke when the pressure was on like Manning and Rodriguez though.

Peyton and A-Rod have atrocious playoff numbers.

I don't like A-Rod at all, because he is a selfish, fake (His persona) loser. He always chokes in the clutch.

There are three certainties in life. Everyone dies, everyone has their heart broken by someone in their life and A-Rod will never win a title.

It's just the way the world works.
Sounds like all the stuff they said about Dan Marino ... but never to his face, I'm sure.