“ When Eli Manning drops back to pass … the monsters charging at him from every direction are in his face so quickly that you flinch and stifle the urge to scream, ”Watch out!” There is no way, you think, that he can possibly evaluate which of these beasts is most likely to get to him first. At that moment any sensible person in Manning’s shoes would flee. Or, perhaps, collapse to the ground and beg for mercy. Yet he is expected to wait … wait … wait … until the microsecond before he is crushed. He’s like a man who has pulled the pin from a grenade and is refusing to throw it.