Baker Reagan Mayfield.
After eight years, while the NFL community is still not completely sure what to think about him, Baker's stock has never been higher. Is he just on a crazy tear? Is the hammer about to drop? Is he actually a top-5 QB in the league?
And, let’s just call a spade a spade, you’re not totally sure what to think about him either.
But…you like him.
And now, pushing past uncomfortable feelings from a writer telling you how you feel deep down about a grown man you’ve never met, you find yourself internally assessing yourself. Does it feel vulnerable? Maybe, even, a bit indefensible? Why do I like Baker?
Why We Think We Like Baker
Let me tell you four reasons why you think you like Baker:
Who doesn’t love an underdog? The former #1 pick started his career with the Cleveland Browns - the perpetual QB-career-killers - who were coming off of two seasons where they went a combined 1-31. The #1 pick led them to an 11-5 record and a playoff win in his third year with the team. Still, he found himself given up on after Year 4.
A player who didn’t get a fair shake on one of the worst franchises of all time? Come on… you’ve gotta root for the guy.
Then it was the story of redemption. A terrible 7-game stint in Carolina meant Baker’s career was in legitimate jeopardy. Two QB injuries in LA led to a desperation waiver pickup from the Rams. Baker took his one-day-without-a-job-the-next-day-on-a-plane-to-the-stadium-to-start-a-primetime-game opportunity and led a gutsy comeback TD drive in the 4th quarter to win the game - without even knowing the playbook. Lights on, no prep, job on the line and able to deliver?!
Come on…you’ve GOT to root for the guy.
Then it was a story of finding a home. Tampa gave Baker a chance in the post-Brady era, seeing him primarily as a stop-gap to further develop Kyle Trask or a bridge before entering the Aaron Rodgers sweepstakes a year later. But Baker proceeded to throw for 4,000 yards and 28 TDs. The Bucs gave him the 3-year $100M contract that seemed like a foregone dream just a season prior.
Come on…if you can’t root for him at this point, the Grinch could be your therapist.
Now it is a story of being underrated. Two years in Tampa and Baker is top 4 in nearly every key QB measure in the league, topping Mahomes stat-for-stat, throwing for more scores than Josh Allen and Lamar Jackson, and yet somehow still being passed over in the media (until the last couple of weeks), while praises for the unrealized potential of Justin Herbert, Trevor Lawrence, and even Dak Prescott play on repeat.
Come on… I mean, come on.
Again, that’s why you think you like Baker.
But it’s not really why. At least, it’s not the whole story.
Why We Actually Like Baker
The real reason you like Baker isn’t because of the stats he produces or even his redemption arc. Because, let’s be honest, you still don’t believe he’s more than a B/B+ quarterback today. But you don’t really care, do you? Of course not! Because the reality is, you like Baker because of how he plays. You like Baker because he’s different. You like Baker because he’s audacious.
Now you say, “Wait, but… lots of NFL players are audacious?”
No, lots of NFL players are arrogant. And many are crazy. But very few are audacious.
You like Baker because he’s willing to stiff-arm Nick Bosa for 15 yards to complete a pass and move the chains on a crucial 4th down. You like Baker because he’s willing to lower his shoulder and run over 275-pound linebackers, block for his RBs 30 yards down the field, dive for a TD knowing he’ll get crushed in the ribs in the process. You like Baker because he’ll have the audacity to get up in a player’s face, regardless of the hit he just took. And, while you wouldn’t necessarily worry about Baker in a dark alley, you wouldn’t necessarily want him in your grill on the field either, because in the back of your mind, you know he’s not like the fake tough-guys telling their teammates “Hold me back, bro - I swear I’m gonna. Hold me back!” No, Baker…you know Baker might actually take a swing in the right situation.
You like Baker because no throwing window is too small, no defender is too strong, no trash talk is too much, no jump pass is too risky, no first down marker is too far, and no lead is insurmountable. You like Baker because he is audacious, AND he backs it up.
That, by the way, is the most crucial piece to audacity: backing it up. Because you can be audacious and not back it up. Take Caleb Williams asking the Bears for partial ownership before signing his rookie contract, for example. That’s audacious. Or telling his punter that he wouldn’t be punting very much. That’s a bit audacious. But then when that is followed up with leading the league in punts and having a QB-rating closer to what you’d hope to shoot on the front-nine of your local mini-golf course, then the audacity just becomes cringy.
And that brings me to my next point. Your fandom of Baker is actually completely rational. Well, yeah, I am rational. Thanks. But, um, what makes you say that in this specific instance, professor author sir?
Because the NFL is entertainment! And you know what’s not entertaining? The people who are really good, but really boring. You know who else isn’t entertaining (at least long-term)? Really bizarrely crazy folks that aren’t that good. There’s a fine line between a healthy level of crazy and talent.
Enter: The Skill/Crazy Scale.
The Skill/Crazy Scale
Similar to its cousin scale that measures attractiveness, the Skill/Crazy Scale measures likeability in sports figures, with ideal candidates falling within the Corridor of Awesome.
Let’s take a look.
Some of these may surprise you. For instance, how could Jameis Winston, who is clearly more crazy than skilled, be in the Corridor of Awesome? Lest ye forget, Jameis threw for over 5,000 yards in Tampa in 2019 and also threw for 33 TDs and 30 picks in the same season. And 7 of those picks were returned for TDs. So, really, his TD count was 40 on the year. Borderline elite (said only mostly in jest).
How could Antonio Brown be so far outside of the Corridor given his skill? Ah, because his crazy was so crazy that it pushed him too far toward that end of the grid. A similar argument can be made for OBJ, Cam Newton, Ray Lewis, Warren Sapp, James Harrison and Bill Romanowski, who, by all accounts, were extremely talented (at least, at their peak), but had enough crazy to move them further outside of the Corridor.
But as you look at the Corridor of Awesome, my guess is that you can’t help but admit your affinity for some-of-if-not-all of the faces you see: the aforementioned Jameis Winston, Jerome “The Bus” Bettis, Ryan “Fitzmagic” Fitzpatrick, Mike Alstott, Dave Campbell, Chad Ochocinco, Troy Polamalu and Rob Gronkowski.
These guys didn’t have to be the elite of the elite (yet, some were), they are/were a little bit audacious, and we love them. You’re telling me your childhood memories - and, for that matter, the NFL as a whole - would be better without these characters?
You don’t even have to answer that. I already know the answer.
So, the logical next step is to plot the very subject of our discussion today, Baker Reagan Mayfield.
And would you just look at where he lands on the Skill/Crazy Scale?
There he is: the perfect balance of skill and crazy - smack dab in the middle of our infallible grid.
And, well, of course he is. I like him, you like him, and we’re rational people, right? So it only makes sense that the empirical data would back us up and land him exactly there.
And that is Why We Actually Like Baker Mayfield. It wasn’t even a conscious choice, really. We couldn’t help ourselves - we’re only human.
A little skill, a little audacity, a comfy couch and a full slate of football on a fall Sunday?
Come on… I mean, come on.