You wouldn’t know it from the 2022 season, but Russell Wilson is one of the most encouraging and inspiring stories in the history of the NFL. Hailing from Richmond, Virginia, Wilson was an undersized prospect at the quarterback position and was pretty successful at North Carolina State before being forced to transfer because his coach preferred something called a “Mike Glennon” at the time. He then became the best quarterback for Wisconsin in my lifetime and led them to a Big 10 Championship. Even then, he was a third-round draft pick in 2012 to Seattle. After proving himself yet again, he became the starter for the Seahawks in week 1 of that year after they signed Aaron Rodgers’ back up to a big contract the previous offseason.
So far, heartwarming. But he’s really just a preamble to Baker Mayfield that this point.
Except for the fact that for the first nine seasons of his career, he had one of the best opening decades any quarterback has ever had. Off the top of my head, only Peyton Manning tops him in wins, winning seasons, yards, playoff wins, and other records for a QB in his first nine seasons. He wins a playoff game as a rookie, wins a title as a second-year player, and goes to another after one of the most improbable playoff comebacks in league history the year after. As the years go by and his star teammates on either side of the ball leave one by one, Russell Wilson continues on as one of the league’s best signal callers and the best player in Seattle history.
Off the field? Oh, he’s just probably the most positive, mature, and level-headed player the league has ever seen. As a role model? He famously visited Seattle’s children’s hospitals weekly, and he won the Walter Payton Man of the Year Award, referred to as the league's most prestigious honor.
He also came into the league married. He is no longer married to that person. He found someone else.
Instagram: @dangerusswilson
Why is this important? Because since Russell Wilson married singer Ciara, somehow everything about his play, leadership, and character has been called into question. Ciara used to be in a relationship with rapper Future who, by any measure, is the exact opposite of Russell Wilson in every way. Ciara and Future have a son, whom Russell has since treated as his own.
Now, why does this all matter? The answer is: I don’t know, the general public. Why does this all matter?
This season, Wilson has changed teams. He and Seattle’s management seemed to be at odds following the 2020 season, but by many accounts, there seemed to be a shift in the popularity of Wilson in the locker room after the team’s second Super Bowl with Wilson at the helm. In early 2015, Wilson and the Seattle offense were on the cusp of scoring a go-ahead touchdown in Super Bowl XLIX against the New England Patriots.
The way I see it, there were three possibilities stemming from that moment. Wilson hands the ball to something called a “BeastMode” and the Seahawks are the first back-to-back champs in a decade; Wilson throws a touchdown and is deemed the next great quarterback of his generation and is a stamped first-ballot Hall of Famer; or Wilson throws an interception and regardless of what he does from that point on, it is the defining image of his career. I’m sure you know what happened.
Almost eight years later, Russell Wilson is experiencing what strikes me as one of the most ill-timed, unnecessary, and straight-up mean media phenomena I have seen.
Before this season, during some video shoots for the Broncos media team, Wilson was recorded, fully padded, repeating four terribly fateful words; “Broncos Country, let’s ride.” Furthermore, with every repeated command to fans, Wilson changed his countenance and vocal inflection.
“Broncos Country, let’s ride.”
“Broncos Country? Let’s ride!”
“Broncos Country! Let’s Ride?”
It was embarrassing. But, initially adorable. Wilson has always been seen as a lovably corny character. He’s an old soul, a devout Christian, and by most signs (at least initially), the consummate teammate.
I’ve had the pleasure of watching Russell play three times against the Panthers and the second time, in the 2015 Divisional Playoff, Carolina had Seattle down 31 points at halftime. Wilson and Seattle stormed back before losing 24-31. It wasn’t until later that week I saw a video of Wilson mic-d up throughout the game. “It’s gonna be the greatest comeback ever.” He continued to say. 7-31. “C’mon yall! Greatest comeback ever!” 21-31. We all know someone like this. So positive, it's disgusting.
I know someone like this because I am someone like this. I played football for over a decade, and above all else, I desired to be seen by my teammates as an encourager. Football is a hard, long, grueling game and I got through tough games and tough seasons by staying positive, and I could only stay positive by encouraging my teammates to do the same. But believe it or not, when someone’s getting their ass handed to them, sometimes the last thing they want it’s a happy-ass quarterback telling them how it’s all going to be alright.
Regardless of all of that, Wilson’s Denver rallying cry went viral. Everyone from Broncos fans to other athletes doing similar video shoots was imitating Wilson’s corny positivity. It was his thing. The thing that carried Russell Wilson through undersizedness, non-belief from college coaches, being passed on in the draft, suffering a divorce, and being called a cornball for being the father of his new wife’s son. Annoyingly persistent positivity.
Then the season started. And the Broncos are bad. Through Week 16, Denver is 4-11. They were predicted before the season to be one of the best teams in the AFC and their first-year coach is fired before the new year. Not only that, but Russell is having the worst season of his career. The stats are depressing. The Broncos are at the bottom of the league in most offensive categories and the nationally televised games that schedulers hoped would be huge for networks have been among the worst games in the entire NFL schedule.
It’s been bad. Some have even retroactively rescinded Wilson’s place as a future Hall of Famer, discredited his success in Seattle as a product of great coaching and great teammates, and called this one of the worst trades and the ensuing contract between Wilson and Denver one of the worst deals in recent history.
However, that’s not what has astounded me. Players have bad years, especially when they're closer to the end than the beginning, as Wilson is. What has astounded me about this season for Russell Wilson is the complete 180 the media and general public have made in their assessment of Russell Wilson, the person. Except it's not a 180. This has been an angle we all have been waiting to use to crush Russell Wilson since he threw the ball to Malcolm Butler in Super Bowl XLIX. Years of questions about his leadership, his relatability, and his toughness have given way to an onslaught of meme-making, scapegoating and character assassination for someone who has done little different other than play bad.
It has come from all angles. Some note how he sounds markedly different in videos with his wife as opposed to in front of the media at the podium (oh, really?). Certain former teammates have attacked his play as manifestations of arrogance and a pretentious attitude. And recent reports, following the firing of Broncos head coach Nathaniel Hackett, point out that Wilson has his own office at the team facility and assigned parking spots, insinuating that Wilson cares more about his celebrity than wins and losses.
This all comes after examples of his positivity like openly worshiping during pregame warmups or calmly reacting to an emotional teammate on the field have been mocked and maligned throughout sports media and the public at large.
Look, I’m not here saying I know Russell Wilson and I’m sure of his true intentions. I’ve also been in quite a few football locker rooms and played some quarterback in my life. There is a special kind of person required to properly and sufficiently lead a group of fanatically trained athletes from various backgrounds and mindsets from year to year. And I understand that inauthenticity is one of the cardinal sins of a leader in any arena, especially sports and particularly football. Furthermore, all of these requirements are made even more complex when the quarterback is black (Don’t get mad at me, go read up on the history).
But we, the media and the public have an issue. Because we are intrigued and entertained by conflict, violence, and fiery passion, we are often unappreciative of those who are the antithesis of those things. We crave impulsiveness, spontaneity, and unpredictability. So those who are level-headed, the same every day, and abide by rules and strongly held morals are unattractive and at times repulsive to us. This is where my bias tilts toward Russell Wilson.
Russell Wilson, to the public (Again, I have no idea what he does behind closed doors, I can only go off of what I’ve seen from him in public for a decade), is the same person he’s always been. I read an article that asked, “Where is the Russell Wilson that threw a pretty deep ball and visited children’s hospitals every week?” Well, the deep ball is nowhere to be found, at least not this year. But, according to his Instagram, where he’s always shared it, Wilson visits the Colorado Children’s Hospital, as well as other healthcare centers, with his wife regularly, just as he had in Seattle.
Instagram: @dangerusswilson
Through the losses, memes, and media scrutiny, Russell Wilson has not changed. He's in a slightly larger market and done some silly things to put a target on his back, but the only thing different about him this year is the team he plays on and the level he's played at.
Earlier this week, two of Denver’s receivers, Jerry Jeudy and K.J. Hamler, came to Wilson’s defense after these reports:
In another tweet, Jeudy highlighted that all the smoke for Wilson is likely because the team isn’t very good and that once Denver starts winning, the talk will take a positive turn. “But that’s the lame ahh world we live in.”
I agree, Jerry. We live in a lame ahh world indeed.
Russell Wilson, like every quarterback before him, has surely made some interpersonal mistakes when it comes to cultivating relationships with teammates over the years. And, the 2022 Denver Broncos season, is largely his fault. But our problem with Russell Wilson, the man, father, and teammate, is our fault. The evaluation of his play this year has gotten as grotesquely personal as I’ve ever seen and if positivity amid struggle is somehow undesirable and cause for scrutiny, shame on us as unphased spectators.
By Billy Listyl
December 30, 2022
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