Football Explained: Debunking Joe Namath

Everything I’ve ever heard about Namath is that he’s overrated.

I wouldn’t evaluate a quarterback based on his team’s record, but you can’t throw 47 more interceptions than touchdowns and be a great quarterback. Namath is the product of hype and the power of the New York media. He is no more a great quarterback than Derek Jeter is a great defender.

Not that that matters much, as coaches are famously full of bologna, but you seem to be drawing some pretty extensive conclusions from those two quotes, so I thought clarification was due.

You state:

Much of the information needed has to be viewed over and over on real game tape (not TV tape). Even that isn’t enough. Some of it can be seen only when you are standing close to the play with an opposing player trying to stop them, some you can see by watching on TV and on TV tape, or by hearing from those who *were there, or by talking to others who have seen real game tape, etc

These extra facts are crucial in determining whether Namath belongs in the HOF

Or, to put it more succinctly, anyone wishing to determine if Joe Namath is a Hall of Famer or not must have either A. Studied him extensively from the field, or B. Studied him extensively on game tape. This disqualifies the people who voted Namath into the hall, predominately sports writers, who neither watched him extensively from the field nor are privy to game tape. In an attempt to validate his selection, the criteria you’ve chosen has invalidated the entire process for selection. It would seem you are attempting to set a standard I can’t possibly meet and then argue that if I can’t then the status quo must be true, but in doing so you yourself have invalidated the status quo.

To your more specific arguments, comparing the stats of a defensive lineman with the stats of a quarterback couldn’t be more misguided. There is no mainstream stat for creating pressure or forcing a double team, whereas virtually everything a quarterback does is quantifiable. Nevertheless, Kennedy’s stats were good throughout his career. He only twice recorded fewer than 4 sacks in a season he started more than 8 games, a phenomenal total for a 1 tech, run stuffing defensive tackle. Tez’s career sack total ranks 84th all time, despite not playing a prominent pass rush position. He was named to the Pro Bowl 8 times, something Namath only did once following the merger. It’s an apples to oranges comparison that only further sheds light on the disparity between a deserving Hall of Famer and one elected for his historical significance.

It doesn’t matter if Namath had a quick release or strong arm or any tools-based evaluation, his job was to complete passes to his receivers. Great quarterbacks, like Peyton Manning or Tom Brady, make the receivers around them better. When Marvin Harrison, arguably one of the top 10 wide receivers of all time, missed most of 2007, Manning didn’t collapse. Suddenly, Anthony Gonzalez and Ben Utecht were ultra-productive. Freed from Oakland, a washed up Randy Moss had the greatest season of his career – paired with Tom Brady. On the flip side, in 2007, the Lions drafted the best wide receiver prospect since Randy Moss, Calvin Johnson, but retained Jon Kitna. The Kitna helmed Lions passing offense declined from 2007 to 2006 despite having Johnson, Roy Williams, Shaun McDonald and Mike Furey receiving for them. Why? Poor pass protection certainly factored in, but the essential reason was that Kitna, no matter the surrounding talent, is a long past his prime, never greater than mediocre quarterback. It’s one of the more fundamental tenants of football: A passing offense reflects, above all else, the quarterback. See New Orleans 2005 and New Orleans 2006. The difference, Drew Brees. If you have Peyton Manning, you can swap 3-time Pro Bowler Tarik Glenn for Tony Ugoh, you can swap one of the greatest wide receivers to ever live Marvin Harrison for Anthony Gonzalez, because great quarterbacks make great passing offenses. Not alone, no, but above all else and at the center of all, the quarterback.

Namath’s Jets were bad teams with bad passing offenses. He had a brief peak in his youth before crumbling as a veteran. In the first season he missed significant time, 1970, his backup, Al Woodall, posted a better completion percentage, touchdown percentage, interception percentage, quarterback rating and adjusted yards per attempt. In 1973, Woodall nearly duplicated the feat, still posting a better touchdown percentage and interception percentage than Namath. Woodall played 5 seasons and made 19 starts in his entire career, all with the Jets. He was a nobody, a scrub, a backup. Namath’s numbers, with the exact same surrounding talent, should have dwarfed Woodall’s. But they didn’t, because for the majority of his career, Namath was not that good.

Had Namath not played in New York, not guaranteed the Jets victory, not been a larger than life personality, he wouldn’t be in the Hall. His peak was never even as great as Kurt Warner’s and his career numbers compare unfavorably to John Hadl. Namath was a very good player for a brief time and injury prone shell of himself by his late twenties. I can say without a single reservation, were I starting a team today, there are a half dozen quarterbacks currently playing (Manning, Brady, Ben Roethlisberger, Carson Palmer, Drew Brees and Matt Hasselbeck) whose career I’d select over Namath. Namath’s career passer rating, 65.5, ranks more than five points below any other HOF quarterback who started their career after 1950. Excepting Terry Bradshaw, 70.9, Namath’s quarterback rating ranks 11.6 points below his closest Hall enshrined peer, Bob Griese. Griese and Bradshaw played for legendary dynasties. Namath was a worse quarterback on worse teams, with less career productivity. By anything but the most subjective of standards, Namath is not a deserving Hall of Famer.