He is either 6’1” and pretty fast, or he is 6’6”, built like a giant linebacker, and can barely run.
He started off as a backup at a decent football school, but then transferred to a serious football program, where he was a walk-on who earned the starting gig the hard way.
He is so young that his earliest memory is from after Tom Brady and Peyton Manning were starting quarterbacks in the NFL.
He has an unbelievable arm. Like, if Zeus himself were to throw a football, he’d only be able to throw it 20 cubits farther than this quarterback could. And that’s the guy whose whole job is to throw lightning at people!
He has a mustache. But it’s not just that he has a mustache, it’s that when you picture him in your head, you really are just picturing the mustache and not him. But it’s not just that it’s all you are picturing when you picture him, it’s that his mustache is his most notable character trait.
His first name is a word that, at one point, was the name of a job. Double points if that job is going to be automated away by robots in the next twenty years, triple points if that job was automated away by factories in the 19th century. Alternatively, his first name is at least twice as common among people at Ivy League schools than among people not at Ivy League schools.
His last name is also a first name that is actually more commonly used as a first name than his first name is.
If you see him and hear him speak, you’ll just know that he alternates between listening to country music and EDM.
Whenever he’s mic’d up, he swears a lot for no particular reason. This makes him seem more relatable and human.
He has what some people call “swagger.” People who have met him may use synonyms of “swagger” like “annoying” or “hot-tempered” or “arrogant” or “a tendency towards skullduggery,” but everyone in the media will either use the word “swagger” or “entertaining.”
He is known for being an exciting player. He will drop back to pass, identify the defensive linemen running towards him, dodge one of them, shimmy away from another’s tackle, outrun a third, run in a circle to avoid the linebacker who ran from the other side of the field, then while running towards the sideline, he’ll somehow launch a cross-body throw 40 yards downfield, only to be intercepted when a cornerback jumps the route. But it’s okay; it was just miscommunication.
Two years from now, he will no longer be a starting quarterback. He will use his good looks, mustache, swagger, and relatively obscure fame to be among the top real estate salesmen in suburban Texas.
