It’s easy to look at Johnny Manziel, the poor decisions he’s repeatedly made and the mockery he’s made of himself, and not have an ounce of pity for the guy.
He was handed the keys to the kingdom, and instead took a major pivot toward the backyard doghouse to soak up his 15 minutes of fame and social media status.
It’s easy to stand behind a computer and scrutinize the 22-year-old for not acting like a professional and continually underperforming when given every single chance humanly possible, and then another to prove that he can be a starting quarterback in the NFL.
It’s easy to vilify him for not owning up to his mistakes and believing in the “Johnny Football” status so much that it couldn’t possibly knock him off the giant pedestal he was prematurely put on.
It’s easy to simply hate the guy, because what’s not to hate about a mediocre player who causes more trouble than he’s worth and thinks he’s worth more than his troubles?
If you’ve already made up your mind about Johnny Manziel, then you’re probably a relatively fair person who’s just sick of the sideshow that came with the package deal of Johnny Manziel and Johnny Football.
If that is the case, I understand. There is no such thing as a “more perfect union,” and the relationship between Manziel, the Browns and his alter ego was never more perfect than the moment Manziel showed his infamous money sign to the Radio City Music Hall crowd as he greeted Roger Goodell during the 2013 NFL Draft.
Everything after that, well, has been a really bad hangover.
You won’t see much of Manziel the rest of this season, and it’s a shame. After his latest incident, when he was caught partying during the Cleveland Browns’ bye week and then lied about it to his superiors, the former Heisman Trophy winner has been demoted to third string and will likely be released or traded after the season.
In his three starts this season, particularly the last two, Manziel brought an edge to his game that we hadn’t seen since his glamour days at Texas A&M University when he was running wild and throwing bombs left and right.
His numbers weren’t great, posting a 59.4 completion percentage and five touchdowns passes, but his understanding of the game seemed to be finally asserting itself slightly enough that he could actually do more than just run around and be a miracle worker.
Manziel was nowhere close to proving he could be a franchise quarterback, but he was making progress.
And that’s where Johnny Football took over, once again.
There have been moments of progress during Manziel’s tumultuous football career in the spotlight, but it’s always led back to relapse. With his latest set of antics, it appears that the fate of Manziel’s football career, the persona of Johnny Football it created and the crazy benders plus celebrity status that came with the trademark name, may all be crumbling too quickly to even notice (or care).
Progress seems to be the issue with Manziel, and after spending the last four years trying to understand him, I think I finally have some sort of answer as to why.
Johnny Football destroyed Johnny Manziel.
Manziel is a victim of his own success, and his greatest enemy is the persona of Johnny Football he created and the beast the media continually fed it until the false reality became so big we couldn’t save it from itself.
I have no sympathy for Johnny Manziel. He didn’t have to play quarterback and turn his life into an E! “True Hollywood Story,” but it’s hard to look at what he’s become and not believe that the social media circus created by Johnny Football led him to believe he’s something he’s not — a God.
We, the media, may not have created Johnny Football, but we certainly glorified it into a legacy that realistically no 22-year-old could ever be held to.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the Manziel circus it’s that we — fans, sportswriters and those alike — must not forget that superior athletes may have more money and a higher social status, but they are still humans who have just as many demons, if not more, than you and I.
Like an NFL defense end attacking from his blindside, Manziel clearly has troubles he can’t evade, but to judge him as Johnny Football and not as Johnny Manziel is an unfair tribute to who he is as a person.
Manziel’s latest round of debauchery shows that he still doesn’t understand the chances he’s been given, but I think it more importantly shows how false realities and 2015 social media legacies can unjustly create an identity that no one can actually live up to.
I don’t feel sorry for Manziel, but I do feel like a great talent is throwing away his chance at an NFL career partly because we (you, me and the Internet) all bred a raging monster that no one could ever tame or control.
Manziel needs a fresh start, and I really hope he gets one. Not because I particularly care for his antics, but because I don’t think we’ve given him a fair chance just to be Johnny Manziel.
Wherever he lands next or whoever is willing to give him one final shot (just please not the Dallas Cowboys) can hopefully steer Manziel towards the right direction and bury the hatchet with Johnny Football.
After all, Johnny Manziel, the person and the football player, has made progress. It’s the Johnny Football guy who continues to let us down. It’s Johnny Football who created the devil that steers Manziel into the abyss away from football.
Let’s hope the two can find a way to come to an amicable divorce, because the combination is truly toxic and it’s killing the once promising career of a uniquely gifted and talented football player.
Isaac is a sports columnist for The Daily Free Press and a High School Sports Correspondent for The Boston Globe. Born and raised in Columbus, Ohio, Isaac spent the 2015 summer interning at USA TODAY Sports and For The Win. Aside from his love of sports, Isaac has a severe Chipotle addiction and an unhealthy love affair with Ohio State football. Follow him on Twitter @IsaacChipps