When a Legend Can’t See What Everyone Else Already Knows

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — There are moments in sports that break your heart not because of what happened, but because of what someone refuses to see.

Standing in the New York Giants locker room after being benched for the second time in three years, Russell Wilson—ten-time Pro Bowler, Super Bowl champion, once the face of an NFL franchise—spoke with the conviction of a man who still believes.

“I still want to keep playing football. I love it, obviously, and I feel like I still got it.”

Five words that would have been inspiring if they were true. Five words that instead became the saddest statement of the 2025 NFL season.

“I still got it.”

But Russell, you don’t. And the tragedy is that you’re the only one who can’t see it.

The Fall From Grace: A Timeline of Denial

To understand the heartbreak of Russell Wilson’s final stand, you have to understand just how far he’s fallen.

2013: Wilson wins Super Bowl XLVIII with the Seattle Seahawks, cementing himself as one of the league’s elite quarterbacks. He’s 25 years old. The future is limitless.

2014: Wilson leads Seattle back to the Super Bowl. They lose in heartbreaking fashion, but he’s still elite. Still young. Still ascending.

2012-2021: Wilson makes nine Pro Bowls in ten years with Seattle. He’s mentioned in MVP conversations. He’s considered a future Hall of Famer. Everything is working.

2022: The Denver Broncos trade a king’s ransom for Wilson—two first-round picks, two second-round picks, multiple players. They sign him to a $245 million extension. This is supposed to be the move that brings Denver back to glory.

Instead, it becomes the biggest disaster in franchise history.

2022-2023: Wilson goes 11-19 with Denver. The offense is stagnant. The chemistry is toxic. He’s sacked 100 times in 30 games. By March 2024, Denver has seen enough—they release him, eating $85 million in dead cap, the largest cap hit in NFL history.

2024: Wilson signs with the Pittsburgh Steelers. He goes 6-8 as a starter. The Steelers don’t offer him a contract for 2025.

2025: Wilson signs with the New York Giants. He starts three games. The Giants go 0-3. He ranks 30th out of 32 quarterbacks in Total QBR. After Week 3, head coach Brian Daboll benches him in favor of rookie Jaxson Dart.

And now, in December 2025, Wilson is QB3—third-string—on a 3-13 team with no hope and no future.

Four teams in five years. Benched twice in three years. And yet, he still believes.

“I feel like I still got it.”

The Numbers Don’t Lie: A Career in Freefall

Let’s look at what “still got it” actually means for Russell Wilson in 2025:

Through 6 games with the Giants:

• 831 passing yards (138.5 per game)
• 3 touchdowns (0.5 per game)
• 5 interceptions
• Career-low completion percentage
• Career-low yards per attempt
• 30th out of 32 in Total QBR

For context, Wilson’s best season in Seattle (2017) saw him throw 34 touchdowns in 16 games—an average of 2.1 TDs per game. This year? 0.5 per game.

He went from one of the league’s most efficient passers to someone who can barely complete 60% of his throws.

And the eye test? Even worse.

Wilson holds the ball too long. He takes unnecessary sacks. His once-elite scrambling ability has vanished. He looks slow. Indecisive. Lost.

A former teammate, speaking anonymously, put it bluntly: “He’s a backup. That’s where he is in his career right now.”

But Wilson? He doesn’t see it.

The Benching: A Second Humiliation

When Giants head coach Brian Daboll benched Wilson after Week 3, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone except, perhaps, Wilson himself.

The Giants were 0-3. The offense was lifeless. Jaxson Dart—a 25th overall pick out of Ole Miss—was waiting in the wings, and the fans were already chanting for him.

Daboll made the call. “I did it. I think it’s the right thing for our football team.”

And he was right. In his first start, Dart went 24/33 for 191 yards and 2 TDs, adding 56 rushing yards and a rushing TD. The offense had life again.

But here’s the most painful part of the story: Wilson didn’t ask for his release.

After being benched—after being told, in no uncertain terms, that he was no longer good enough to start—Wilson stood in front of reporters and said:

“I want to see it through. I haven’t asked for my release or anything like that. I want to be there.”

This wasn’t defiance. This wasn’t a warrior refusing to quit.

This was a man clinging to a dream that had already ended.

The Tragic Delusion: “I Feel Like I Still Got It”

There’s a concept in psychology called “cognitive dissonance”—the mental discomfort that comes from holding two conflicting beliefs.

For Russell Wilson, those beliefs are:

1. “I am still an elite NFL quarterback.”
2. “I have been benched on four teams in five years.”

Most people would reconcile this by accepting reality. Wilson? He’s chosen delusion.

“I still want to keep playing football. I love it, obviously, and I feel like I still got it.”

The problem isn’t that he wants to keep playing. The problem is that he genuinely believes he’s still capable of being a starter.

But the evidence says otherwise:

• Denver gave up on him after two years
• Pittsburgh gave up on him after one year
• New York gave up on him after three games

And yet, Wilson refuses to see the pattern. He refuses to accept that the game has passed him by.

The Former Teammate’s Brutal Honesty

Perhaps the most telling moment came when a former teammate—someone who played alongside Wilson and knows him well—was asked about his future.

The response was devastating in its simplicity:

“He’s a backup. That’s where he is in his career right now.”

Not a starter who’s going through a rough patch. Not a veteran who needs the right system. Not a leader who can still carry a team.

A backup.

And that’s the truth Russell Wilson refuses to accept.

The Hall of Fame Trajectory That Never Was

At one point early in his ten-year stint with the Seahawks, Russell Wilson seemed to be on a Hall of Fame trajectory.

Nine Pro Bowls. A Super Bowl championship. Two Super Bowl appearances. MVP-caliber seasons. A resume that screamed “Canton.”

But Hall of Fame careers aren’t built on what you did—they’re built on how you finish.

And Russell Wilson is finishing as a cautionary tale.

Benched for the second time in three years. On his fourth team in five seasons.

For Wilson, the benching in New York could prove to be the last of his NFL career. Not because he’s retiring, but because no team will want him after this.

Who’s going to sign a 37-year-old quarterback who:

• Has been benched three times in five years
• Ranks 30th out of 32 in efficiency
• Can’t accept that he’s no longer a starter
• Commands a salary that doesn’t match his production

The answer? No one.

The Contrast: Jaxson Dart’s Fresh Start

While Wilson clings to the past, Jaxson Dart represents the future.

The rookie out of Ole Miss has already shown more promise in his first few starts than Wilson showed all season. He’s mobile. He’s decisive. He’s willing to take risks.

And most importantly? He’s young.

The Giants drafted Dart to be their franchise quarterback. Wilson was supposed to be a bridge. But bridges are meant to be crossed—and then left behind.

Daboll made the decision. The fans embraced it. And the team moved on.

Everyone except Russell Wilson.

The Sad Reality: When You Don’t Know It’s Over

There’s a famous quote often attributed to Hemingway: “How did you go bankrupt? Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly.”

That’s Russell Wilson’s career in a nutshell.

The decline was gradual—small inefficiencies, a step slower, a fraction less accurate. But the fall was sudden. One moment, he’s a $245 million quarterback. The next, he’s QB3 on a 3-13 team.

And the saddest part? He still doesn’t see it.

“I feel like I still got it.”

No, Russell. You don’t. And everyone knows it except you.

What Happens Next: The End of the Road

The 2025 season will likely be Russell Wilson’s last.

No team is going to sign a 38-year-old quarterback who has been benched three times in five years. No team is going to invest in someone who can’t accept his role as a backup.

Wilson will face a choice:

1. Accept a backup role and ride the bench for one or two more years
2. Retire and begin the next chapter of his life

But based on his comments, it’s clear which path he wants to take.

“I want to see it through.”

The problem is, there’s nothing left to see through. The story is over. The final chapter has been written.

Russell Wilson just hasn’t read it yet.

Final Thoughts: The Tragedy of a Legend Who Can’t Let Go

This isn’t a story about a bad player. Russell Wilson was great—truly great—for a decade.

This is a story about what happens when greatness fades and the person who achieved it refuses to see it.

It’s the story of a champion who became a backup. A legend who became a cautionary tale. A man who still believes he’s got it—when everyone else can see that he doesn’t.

And that’s the real tragedy.

Not that Russell Wilson’s career is over. But that he’s the last one to know.

“I still got it.”

No, Russell. You don’t.

And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can begin to heal.