Dear John: Elway should walk away from the game while he's on top. Why? You never get a second chance to make one lasting impression

Sporting News, The, Feb 9, 1998 by Bill Plaschke

You only get one sunset.

That's the rule. All great athletes know it. They might pretend they don't, strutting around like so many eternal flames, but they know it.

You only get one sunset.

You only get one chance to end an outstanding career with grace and beauty.

You only get one chance to walk away under a rainbow sky, just before the blues and reds turn black and cold.

It is the only rule that is never bent, never broken. You can't beat it. You can't cheat it. Heaven help your image if you don't live by it.

Julius Erving lived by it.

Willie Mays didn't.

Nolan Ryan did.

Joe Namath didn't.

Ted Williams ... did he ever.

On a deep green San Diego field a few weeks ago, the 37-year old quarterback leaped, ducked, flicked and willed the Broncos to a victory over the Packers.

By nightfall, he swaggered through the mob with tears in his eyes, the first-time owner of a Super Bowl championship after three Super failures and 15 years of trying.

Those skies above him, roaring with cheers, bursting with fireworks, filled with confetti.

That was his sunset.

Say good night, John.

Uh, John?

If by the time you read this, Elway has already announced he will play another season, he has just made a mistake the size of that pass he threw to Eugene Robinson.

If he has already announced he is retiring, he is as unbeatable as Marty Schottenheimer thinks he is.

Like an old man who staggered to the top of the mountain on his last climb, Elway would do well to spend a week admiring the view ... before calling a helicopter and getting the heck out of there.

He has nowhere to go but down. Once he has reached bottom, he clearly doesn't have the legs to return to the top.

And that fall has already started. Or maybe you missed the fact that he completed just 12-of-22 passes in the Super bowl with no touchdowns, one interception and only two completions to a wide receiver.

His heart helped the Broncos with that game. Not his arm.

His biggest play was a third-down scramble. His biggest mistake nearly sent the Broncos home losers.

The Packers have a terrific defense. But Elway used to be able to handle terrific all by himself, not to mention "tough" and terrifying."

No more. While his courage and spirit were the forces behind the Broncos upset, makes no mistake: Without Terrell Davis on that same deep green field, elway doesn't win squat.

He had a wonderful regular season with a career-high 27 touchdowns. But he needed plenty of help, and will only need more with each new gray hair.

And does anybody really want to remember John Elway needing help? Did anybody want to remember Willie mays stumbling to the plate, or Magic Johnson sitting on the bench?

And what about the ending? The ending was perfect. To change that would be like some literary archivist uncovering a Charles Dickens manuscript in which a fourth ghost scares Tiny Tim off his stool.

By continuing to play, Elway would be that ghost.

Instead of occurring in front of a nation of well-being, the new ending would be in some cold and hostile place on a January afternoon in the first round of the playoffs, teammates subtly ripping him in the newspapers, the owner pleading with him to quit.

It would happen. It's the rules.

If Elway had the body of Warren Moon, it would be different. But medically speaking, he has already called this past season a "miracle." How many more can one man get?

Mike Shanahan, the Broncos coach who would suddenly get a lot dumber without Elway, wants to keep him.

Some members of the media also have pleaded for him to keep playing, to allow us to share a few more Sunday afternoons with one of the greatest quarterbacks ever.

Right. And if he has a streak of bad games next year, Shanahan is making Jimmy Johnson-type statements about replacing him and the media is crying for his head.

Elway owes the fans nothing. He owes his coach nothing. He is rich, he is celebrated, he is enduring. With that home run in his final at-bat, by gosh, he is Ted Williams.

Here's hoping Elway has one more good move left in him this winter.

Call a press conference on the eve of the upcoming free-agent signing period. Announce you are retiring to become a minority owner and vice president of the Broncos. Answer every question with the same question: "Didn't your see that sunset?"