I took a job a few years back where I had to follow the “rock star”, stepping into a role that the person before me had created. She had defined it, and it had come to exist because she had shown the company the difference she could make in doing it. Stepping in behind her felt like stepping in for Michaelangelo with a stubby set of crayons. And not even the 64-color box with the sharpener. I busted my butt for three years to barely be a shadow of what she had been before I moved on to a role better suited to me.

I’ve also had moments in my life that I was the one who was hard to follow, so it was good to have the perspective from both ends. But damn, was being a distant second a humbling experience.

Knowing that bit of humble pie, it’s hard to imagine how Brian Griese must have felt.

If you’re Griese, you’re already following in the footsteps of your legendary father, Bob. Pigskin Progeny is already a pretty tall mountain to climb. But then you come into the league to follow… well, this…

You couldn’t follow a much tougher act than that. But with the juggernaut the Denver Broncos had built, the fans and media had broadly convinced themselves that Denver had built a machine that the well-studied Griese could simply step into and keep running at a Championship level. And with MVP Terrell Davis literally running the show, they might have been right. But when TD fell out of that well-oiled machine via injury, the cracks really started to show. The Broncos stumbled to a 6-10 record that year, and Griese worked his way through three more semi-forgettable seasons, even with a Pro Bowl nod. Eventually, the Broncos moved on. Denver hasn’t seen a rookie of that caliber back through since Elway’s departure. Heck, they’ve only seen one more play caller who could compete at that level since, in Peyton Manning. There have been a dozen others who have tried to fill those shoes since Elway left, and only the already-stellar Manning had the goods.

Denver is not alone in this malaise. It’s not as if the history of the NFL is littered with examples like Steve Young, who followed the legendary Joe Montana with a claim of his own to greatness. Or a Tom Brady replacing a Drew Bledsoe. Or Aaron Rodgers replacing Brett Favre. Even with a few easily spotted instances of Face-of-the-Franchise quarterbacks going back-to-back, those are still the rarities. For every Young, Brady, or Rodgers, there are a hundred Grieses. Just ask Jake Plummer. Or Jay Cutler. Or Kyle Orton. Or Tim Tebow. Or Trevor Siemian. Or Case Keenum. Or even former Super Bowl MVP Joe Flacco.

If the quarterback histories of most any NFL franchise were charted out in peaks and valleys, even the best examples would look like your EEG. And far too many would have a flatline. The elements that have to come together for a quarterback to lift a franchise involve so many individual and interpersonal targets to hit, it’s a bit of a mathematical wonder it ever happens.

It was a wonderful start for the rookie last Sunday, as well-chronicled by DNVR this past week. The swagger that Ryan Koenigsberg so aptly described was surprisingly refreshing, and only immediately apparent because of how long it had been missing. Is Drew the next Face of the Franchise? It’s a little early to tell. But a ray of hope plays awfully well in Broncos Country these days. Here’s hoping that this is the beginning of something much bigger. That in addition to his estimable head, heart, and talent, Lock is also a bit of luck.