The Bryce Young critics sure are quiet now.
A glorious case of football whiplash is happening in Charlotte. The Carolina Panthers, a franchise defined by Cam Newton’s monstrous frame for a decade, made the decision to swing to the other end of the spectrum. Stepping into Newton’s giant shoes was Bryce Young, a diminutive 5’10 quarterback who barely reached the shoulders of his offensive line, weighed 204 pounds soaking wet, yet carried the same level of hope and desperation that Newton was met with when he arrived in Carolina as a No. 1 overall pick: Please, let this guy be the one.
Bryce Young saw the memes, he heard the jokes, he internalized the criticism thrown at him from every angle. Now he towers over his doubters as he reshapes not just what people previously believed about Bryce Young, but NFL quarterbacks as a whole.
There was fair reason to doubt whether or not the Bryce Young experiment would work. In modern football there has only been one quarterback who managed to succeed despite his small stature — it just so happens that he was one of the greatest of all time. Drew Brees, legendary Saints quarterback, was forced to play on his toes to add a little extra reach to his frame, ensuring his passes would sail over the outstretched arms of defensive linemen, and nobody has managed to do it since. Bryce is not Drew Brees, despite the fact that both play on their toes. Brees dominated the NFL from the pocket, dissecting the play with unparalleled speed and winning with big, gashing, anticipation throws. Meanwhile, Young likes to operate out of the RPO, orchestrating the offense after the snap, and has more of a tendency to extend plays out of the pocket, but possesses the same big-play potential that Brees had. Analysts are beginning to take notice.
Young leads the NFL in explosive throws through four games, despite facing more pressure than any quarterback in the league. This simply should not be possible. Football tells us that one thing is universally true: Big plays require a clean pocket, and yet Young isn’t doing that. Moreover, it’s here that he dispels another myth about his size: That his small frame would always mean he was “one sack away” from being hurt.
Across four seasons Young has been sacked 128 times due to issues on the Panthers’ offensive line. The number of games he’s missed due to injury: Two. Both were due to sprained ankles on rollouts, not a result of being hit. Meanwhile, big, strapping, ideally-sized Joe Burrow has been sacked 98 times over the same time period, and missed 16 games. That’s not a knock on Burrow or getting hurt, but rather highlights how ridiculous it is to assume player size is a predictive marker for injury in the NFL. Getting hit in the league SUCKS. Oftentimes injury is far more a condition of being lucky or unlucky, rather than being “big enough to absorb the hit.” Truth is: Nobody is big enough to absorb an NFL hit without there being some ramifications.
The next dispelled rumor is arm strength, which has become one of the stupidest discussions to return to NFL discourse. I thought we moved past the importance of arm strength 20 years ago when Kyle Boller stunk it up in the NFL after being drafted based on his howitzer, but here we are. One of the big critiques of Young is that his arm was poor, that he didn’t throw deep often at Alabama, and people used that as a marker to say “he can’t excel in the league.” Watching film it was abundantly clear that no, Young didn’t have the ability to back-foot throw 60-yard bombs, but there was ample velocity. The idea that players need to possess this otherworldly cannon is beyond ridiculous in a league where even the very best deep-throwing quarterbacks are averaging around 9.5 air yards on their throws, and opportunities to throw those rainbow 50-yard bombs through the air occur two, maybe three times a season. Velocity and accuracy are what reign supreme in the NFL, not who can Uncle Rico the ball over a mountain. As long as your arm is good enough, that’s all that matters. It’s why Young is the top-rated deep-thrower this season without having an elite top-3 arm.
Finally there’s the ability to bounce back from adversity. There have been many quarterback careers resurrected in recent years, from Geno Smith to Sam Darnold to Baker Mayfield, and the list goes on. The difference with all those guys is that they needed a change of scenery and new coaches to find their place in the NFL. Young was ready to be written off following his first season and change. Many predicted it was the beginning of the end when Panthers coach Dave Canales benched Young at the beginning of his second year. Instead, the benching was about teaching, slowing down the game, accepting that even Heisman winners can’t succeed when thrust into a garbage situation. Young returned and steadily improved every game since then, which has brought us to this moment of breakout.
No two quarterbacks play the same way, and nobody develops the same way. Impatience reigns supreme in our modern, short-form video society — but the reality is that quarterbacks have always needed time to adapt to the league. It took Josh Allen two years to turn into a monster, it’s taken Bryce three. Some other guys might need more or less time, which is why it’s so smart of the Raiders to have Fernando Mendoza sit and learn now, rather than being pressured into this “trial by fire” way of thinking. Patience is something that has seemingly evaporated when it comes to NFL quarterbacks, which is why it’s no coincidence that so many passers are receiving a second life upon changing teams.
People have tried to write off Bryce Young time, and time, and time again. Too short, too light, not strong enough, injury waiting to happen, busted No. 1 pick. The Panthers, but more importantly Bryce Young, have managed to tune out all the noise. Now this team is reaping the benefits of defying expectations, and Young has arrived. He’s not Drew Brees because he’s small, he’s Bryce Young because he persevered — and it’s time to put some respect on his name.