Don't blame Manning for trying to steer his career.(Draft 2004)

Judging from the reaction from front offices, Madison Square Garden and cyberspace, it seemed as if Eli Manning had been given the lead role in the NFL's version of The Passion. Verbally, he was scourged, beaten, flogged and crucified.

His crime was letting the Chargers know he didn't want to play for them. Rookies are supposed to shut up, pick up their teammates' shoulder pads and show up on the bus with smiles on their faces. They are supposed to be passengers, not drivers, in the journey to their own destiny.

Speak up and you are a whiner. A politicker. An elitist. A weasel. You think you are bigger than the league. You act like you are a member of the NFL's version of the Kennedy family. You have a meddling father and a money-grubbing brother. You probably club baby seals for kicks. Oh, and you suck! You suck! You suck!

Go ahead and boo Manning if it makes you feel bigger. But don't blame him for trying to have a say in how his career unfolds.

Was this about wanting to avoid permanent scarring? No quarterback wants to be beaten silly behind an inadequate offensive line. The Chargers have only one offensive lineman returning who started more than half of the 2003 season, guard Phil Bogle, and he was an undrafted free agent. What's more, they had begun to try to trade incumbent quarterback Drew Brees with the thought that Manning could be the starter from the beginning.

Manning's father, Archie, played 11 years with the Saints without experiencing a winning season and he, like every father, wanted better for his son. Big jerk, right?

Was this about wanting to be noticed by the people who bring Gatorade and Snickers to our television screens and highway billboards? Every player wants to maximize his marketing ability. And Manning had his brother, Peyton, to warn him about the disadvantages of playing in a small-market town.