
All it took was one play. And the unlikeliest man was etched in legend.
Ten seconds to go. Vikings down to the Saints, 23-24, with a trip to the NFC Championship on the line. With a bid to be recognized as one of the league’s four best teams at stake. And with a city desperate for unmitigated hope.
It was in this moment that Vikings fans chose to cling to hope, even with the overwhelming expectation of having that hope dashed in an emotional maelstrom. It had happened to them many times before. The missed field goal by Blair Walsh against the Seattle Seahawks. The team’s overtime loss to the eventual Super Bowl-winning Saints in 2009.
For years, the Vikings had endured a particular kind of disappointment. The kind that only came once the excitement had built to an astronomical level. The kind that sent the mind into a suspension of awe, disbelief, and denial when it inevitably came. It was that kind of disappointment that seemed to be coming, with the Vikings so close to redemption.
But then something happened. Something different. The Vikings delivered, behind the arm of an unexpected hero.

The moment
By the time the noise from one end of the U.S. Bank Stadium reached the other side of the bowl, it had already intermingled with other sound waves, of infinite magnitude and infinite direction. All coalescing into a thick, invisible soup at the center of the field. It was the kind of crescendo that only rose in the dawn before unforgettable moments. The penultimate pulse. Deafening and debilitating.
But it didn’t bother Case Keenum.
Play clock down to three. The steely veteran gave a quick hard count and then cut off the cadence. The center let the ball fly, and Keenum snatched it, taking a five-step drop as the receivers exploded off the line. He had a clean pocket, but still, he had the clock ticking inside his head, as the tackles exited his peripherals. Three… two…
Then he found his man. Running down the right sideline, Stefon Diggs had separation. But not for long. Keenum had to fire it two seconds ago, but that was no longer an option, so he settled for the next best thing. He put everything he had on the ball, letting it rip and weave through the air.
Down at the thirty-yard line, Diggs contorted himself to make the catch, and for a moment, it looked like he would stumble out of bounds. But the safety missed his assignment, and Diggs instead kept himself inside the lines, finding nothing but open field ahead. He sprinted for it, and as the clock fell to zero, Diggs found the end zone. And the Vikings broken hearts were healed, at least for now.
The Minnesota Miracle. It was that one moment that captivated an entire nation. But behind the scenes, Case Keenum had played a large part in leading the Vikings to that stage, after quarterback uncertainty mired the start of their 2017 campaign. With Keenum’s help, the Vikings and their elite defense had steamrolled the NFC North that year. The Vikings postponed their eternal sorrow, and Keenum put together a solid year as a starter, amassing 3,547 yards, 22 touchdowns, and seven interceptions.
It was redemption not only for the Vikings, but also for Keenum himself; the quarterback who was subliminally told by the NFL, back in 2012, that he was too short. That his arm wasn’t strong enough. That, for all his records with the Houston Cougars, he was just another college legend. Not fit to make his mark on the NFL.
Keenum proved them wrong. But the nature of a moment demands it is temporally finite.

The aftermath
Keenum’s career year was a polarizing entity. Some saw this as the emergence of a budding star, while others expected a regression back to the mean for Case Keenum. Keenum benefitted from playing with a talented receiving core, a top-flight defense, and an effective offensive coordinator in Minnesota’s Pat Shurmur, but he also dealt with consistent pressure from the offensive line.
It was in the evaluation period of 2018 free agency that Keenum’s moment slowly dissipated. For most in the NFL, Keenum’s 2017 season, as good as it was, did not change what he was: A quarterback who could succeed inside a structure, but had natural deficiencies that capped his ceiling. Even in 2017, Keenum’s relative volatility as a player was on display, and few teams wanted to pay starting quarterback money for a player who wasn’t a guarantee.
The Broncos gave Keenum a chance after a short waiting period, signing the Houston alumnus to a two-year, $36 million contract. Keenum was then prepped as the starter for the entire offseason, something he’d never done before. He was given a place on the NFL Top 100 Players list, and heading into the season with exciting receiving options such as Emmanuel Sanders, Courtland Sutton, and DaeSean Hamilton, there was buzz surrounding Keenum’s coming prove-it year.
In the end, however, what was expected came to pass. Keenum regressed to the mean, providing competence but little else for Vance Joseph’s Broncos. He led the team to a 6-10 final record, throwing for 3,890 yards, 18 touchdowns, and 15 interceptions. In the offseason, the Broncos agreed to trade Keenum, and half of his salary, to the Washington Redskins, for a swap of late-round picks in 2019. Once a franchise tag candidate, Keenum had fallen. And now, he awaits his future with the Redskins, a future that is unpredictable, like all the others he’s faced.

The future
Dwayne Haskins is the future. The Redskins didn’t draft Haskins at No. 15 overall to have him sit. They may say it’s a competition now, but that’s just because they want Haskins to earn it. He will. Haskins is smart, a quick learner, and has the velocity and consistent accuracy, or at least enough of it, to exceed Keenum and eventually thrive. As good as Keenum may have been in his brightest moments in Minnesota, those moments were finite.
In this moment, Dwayne Haskins is the future. But that doesn’t mean Case Keenum can’t be a part of it.
In a material sense, Keenum doesn’t provide anything unique to the Redskins roster. The Redskins don’t need a starter; Haskins has that job. They don’t necessarily need another veteran mentor; Alex Smith is renowned and revered in that area. But while Smith recovers from an impossible injury, and while Colt McCoy returns to health, Keenum is the buffer between stability and entropy.
Keenum is the only one who’s ready if Haskins goes down, and he needs to be prepared. While his last moment is far in the rear view mirror, perhaps his next one could be coming. Whether that’s pointing out a note of importance to Dwayne Haskins in the quarterback room, or showing him a fix for a fundamental flaw, or running onto the field to relieve the rookie in a crucial contest.
There is honor in being a backup. If Keenum’s stint in Washington consists only of him coaching a rookie from the sidelines, then his impact is still great, even if such a role doesn’t attract the most glamor. He’s worked hard to get where he is. He’s battled adversity. Perhaps he’s evolved as a player, and now, with his star fading, he must evolve as a mentor.
But while his title no longer has the flash and ring of a starter, Case Keenum has to be ready for whatever his role could become with the Redskins. And with Keenum, that shouldn’t be a problem. Keenum’s career has been anything but predictable. At every fork in the road, Keenum has been ready. When the Texans called on him in his rookie year to start for Matt Schaub. When the dysfunction-ridden Rams asked for competence to keep themselves afloat. And when the Vikings needed a certain kind of signal caller to keep their playoff hopes alive.
In every moment, Keenum, while he hasn’t always succeeded, has been ready. In D.C., nothing should be different.

