One of the best subplots of the 2007 playoffs is that the unexpected ascension of the Giants has allowed quarterback Eli Manning to do in four seasons that which his big brother Peyton required nine to accomplish — secure a berth in the Super Bowl.

The transformation has been stunning.  For the first three years of his career, Eli displayed the demeanor of a pimply-faced kid at his first high-school dance:  Uncertain, unconfident, and ultimately disinterested.  Now, he’s loose and relaxed and performing like never before.

He hasn’t become Dan Marino.  But he’s a step or two (or three) above Trent Dilfer, the game-manager who won a Super Bowl with the help of a tremendous defense.  Eli Manning is making good decisions, not making mistakes, and inspiring confidence in those around him.

Eli actually looks a lot like Tom Brady, circa 2001, before Brady blew up and became one of the great quarterbacks of all time.  Like Brady, Eli could use his team’s success as the fuel to get a lot better over the next several years.

So why did it take so long?  For a while, we got the impression that Eli simply didn’t love football, that he had been pushed into the family business without regard to what he truly wanted to do with his life.  And though there might have been some truth to that, we also think that Eli couldn’t compete with the personality and presence of former Giants running back Tiki Barber, who surely used verbal and non-verbal tactics to keep Eli from getting a big head (figuratively, not literally . . . though Eli’s noggin can’t compete with Peyton’s, it’s still pretty impressive). 

What Barber didn’t realize is that his likely handling of the younger Manning was contributing to his struggles.  In the end, it was Barber’s departure — and the harsh words he hurled at Manning after he left — that helped Eli as much or more than anything else.

And Eli’s reaction to Tiki’s barbs might have been the moment when Eli came into his own.  Peyton would have handled the criticism by cracking a joke, at worst suggesting that Barber had been “liquored up.”  (Inside, however, Peyton would have been fuming.)  But Eli wasn’t afraid to be himself, and to openly comment on the irony in Barber’s criticism of Eli’s leadership skills, given the manner in which Barber’s antics during the 2006 season caused the team to come apart.

So while we’ve never really cared all that much for Peyton Manning and his head-shake-and-half-frown routine, we really like Eli.  It’s a great story.  The kid who was overlooked, doubted, and disrespected has grown up before our eyes.  And while he could rub some faces in his success, he won’t do it — publicly or privately.  He comes off as a nice guy, and he deserves the success he’s now experiencing, especially in light of what he’s been through.