A Jewel — Without The Jewelry

Sporting News, The, March 20, 2000 by Paul Attner

Through Dan Marino retires from the NFL without a Super Bowl ring, his accomplishments should far outweigh any sense of unfulfillment.

Dan Marino has a ring. It's for winning the 1984 AFC title. It is buried somewhere in his home, as far out of sight and memory as possible. "Loser's ring," he calls it. He played 15 more seasons to replace that orphan piece of jewelry with something much more significant. But, sadly, he'll never win an NFL championship, never have a Super Bowl ring, never have his career discussed without that one major void forming the centerpiece of a debate over the significance of his accomplishments.

It took his friend, John Elway, 15 seasons to wear a Super Bowl ring, then he stayed around long enough to grab another. Don't think those titles make any difference in how his career is viewed? Just look at where Elway and Marino are ranked in Football's 100 Greatest Players, a recent book by THE SPORTING NEWS. Elway was ranked 16th, Marino 27th. If you compare their careers, Marino holds a significant statistical edge in virtually every major category except one: championships. That's enough to separate them by 13 places among the immortals.

It shouldn't. Marino was a better pure quarterback than Elway. He was more accurate, more consistent, more polished. He didn't have Elway's mobility but then, how many did? But Elway lacked The Release, the timing, the razor-sharp ability to dissect defenses that characterized Marino through the extended peak years of his career. Marino is the fourth-rated passer of all-time based on quarterback ratings; Elway isn't even in the top 20. If you really wanted to see how quarterback should be played over the last two decades, you studied Marino and Joe Montana.

But unfortunately for Marino, he lives in a sports world that is about winning, not statistics. If it isn't, then a big lie is being perpetuated every day in the NFL. We are told constantly by players and coaches that they compete not just for money but for a chance to win championships. It is how they measure their success, how they keep themselves motivated, how they justify exposing themselves to the constant threat of debilitating injury.

Winning is the ultimate determination of success in sports. I can say that it shouldn't matter, that Marino's superior quarterback achievements--most yards, completions, touchdown passes in NFL history--should not be diminished by his lack of rifles. That magnificent arm produced more than 61,000 yards, 420 TD passes and almost 5,000 completions. In 1984 alone, he threw for 48 touchdowns and 5,084 yards. But those almost incomprehensible numbers still don't change the reality of the atmosphere in which Marino competed for almost two decades. So he will always have that stigma attached to his name. Oh yes, Dan Marino: Great quarterback but never a Super Bowl champ.

I once asked Marino about the ring's importance. It was in 1995, just after he had broken most of Fran Tarkenton's major career passing records. Huge accomplishments that attracted national attention. But each one came amid a loss. He was confused by that twisted turn of events; he couldn't very well celebrate an individual milestone when his team lost.

"That's the frustrating part," he said. "The individual records are nice, but this is a team game." And the lack of a ring? "It may never happen. If it doesn't, I'll be disappointed. I can't say it's not important, because it is. But if I don't win one, my career isn't a failure."

Blame the Dolphins' organization for his failure. It is hard to conceive that he could have done more for this team over 17 years. But the Dolphins' inability to build a running game potent enough to give his passing skills proper support is unforgivable. They truly wasted the talents of this great player.

Here too, Elway, got a jump up on Marino. Until the Broncos got Terrell Davis with a sixth-round draft choice, they had been an impotent running team during the Elway era and also couldn't win a Super Bowl. But with Davis, the improved balance made the quarterback and the franchise good enough to twice become champions. Elway was able to walk away on a Rocky Mountain high; Marino's last memory is that 62-7 debacle at the hands of the Jaguars in January.

Both Don Shula and Jimmy Johnson, hardly coaching slugs, failed to give Marino adequate running support. Shula's was the greater sin, since he had a much longer time to fix the problem. Johnson rushed in four years ago promising things would be different. They were; he reduced Marino's role by cutting down Miami's reliance on passing, sparking a feud with his quarterback.

But Johnson could never figure out a way to run effectively, not with a bunch of ho-hum backs and a so-so line. The Dolphins underachieved during Johnson's tenure, Marino produced some embarrassing performances and now both the quarterback and the coach are out of the game.

But Marino wiped out the anguished memories of 1999, when his deteriorating skills were so painfully evident, by his brilliant decision to retire. So maybe he wanted to play one more year, which would have meant duplicating the mistake made by John Unitas and Joe Namath. Yet, finally, Marino saw a bigger picture--the indignity of putting on a Vikings uniform, living apart from his family and being beaten up with no hope of winning a Super Bowl. At least he knows he is leaving as a Dolphin, always a Dolphin. Who can claim that type of long-term loyalty anymore in our chaotic athletic structure?