Why Steve Spurrier’s Criticism of Texas Longhorns QB Arch Manning Misses the Mark Entirely and Undervalues His True Potential
Steve Spurrier is never one to hold his tongue. Known for his quick wit and sharper commentary, the legendary coach has built a post-coaching reputation on candid takes and no-filter analysis. But sometimes, that brash honesty misses the mark—especially when it comes to young quarterbacks trying to find their footing in the national spotlight. That seems to be the case with his recent comments on Texas Longhorns quarterback Arch Manning. In dismissing Manning’s hype and downplaying his value to the Texas program, Spurrier may have crossed the line between straight talk and short-sightedness.
Let’s be clear: criticizing college players, particularly those still developing and adapting to the college game, comes with significant responsibility. When that player carries the last name “Manning,” the microscope is even sharper, the margin for error narrower. But while the surname may bring legacy and expectation, it doesn’t guarantee immediate dominance. What Spurrier’s critique fails to acknowledge is the nuance of development, the context of competition, and the reality of how modern college football operates—particularly at a blue-blood like Texas.
Arch Manning arrived at Texas with the kind of fanfare reserved for generational prospects. The nephew of Peyton and Eli Manning, the son of Cooper Manning, and the grandson of Archie Manning—his lineage alone was enough to drive media frenzy and recruit rankings. But to his credit, Arch never leaned into that attention. In fact, he ran from it. He spurned name-image-likeness deals, kept his recruitment low-key, and made it clear that he wanted to earn everything that came his way. That maturity, often overshadowed by his last name, is what makes Spurrier’s comments even more off base.
Spurrier implied that Manning is more hype than substance, insinuating that his status as a top recruit is largely due to who he is, not what he’s done. But that ignores Manning’s actual body of work. In high school, he put up impressive numbers at Isidore Newman in New Orleans, showing high football IQ, accuracy, leadership, and mobility. No, he wasn’t playing 6A Texas high school ball, but he wasn’t padding stats against slouches either. He performed well in elite camps and dominated at the Manning Passing Academy, showing he could go toe-to-toe with top quarterback prospects in the country.
His decision to redshirt his freshman season at Texas wasn’t a sign of weakness or overhype—it was a strategic, long-term move. With Quinn Ewers returning and playing well in 2023 and 2024, Arch understood the value in learning from the sideline, building his body, and adjusting to the demands of Steve Sarkisian’s pro-style offense. That’s not “ducking the competition” or “failing to meet the moment,” as Spurrier’s tone seemed to suggest. It’s playing the long game—a concept that, ironically, Spurrier himself once mastered during his coaching career.
Spurrier’s broader implication is that Texas is overinvested in Manning. But that viewpoint discounts the actual structure of the Texas quarterback room and the program’s trajectory. The Longhorns haven’t had consistent quarterback play since Colt McCoy, and while Quinn Ewers has brought some stability, Sarkisian knows that success beyond 2025 will hinge on grooming the next face of the program. Arch Manning fits that mold perfectly. He’s not just a name. He’s a talented, cerebral quarterback who already commands respect in the locker room.
Moreover, Manning has reportedly made major strides in practice. While Sarkisian has been protective of his development—limiting media access and keeping evaluations internal—leaks from the program suggest that Manning has been consistently impressive. Coaches and teammates alike have praised his poise, command of the offense, and improving arm strength. Those who see him daily aren’t questioning whether the hype is real—they’re more focused on when, not if, he becomes the full-time starter.
What Spurrier fails to grasp is that quarterback development isn’t linear. Not every elite prospect hits the ground running like Caleb Williams or Bryce Young. Some take time. And in today’s college football landscape, taking that time can be more valuable than forcing early stardom. By the time Arch Manning starts full-time—potentially in 2025—he will have had two years in Sarkisian’s complex offense, a deeper understanding of defenses, and the physical maturity to survive the SEC grind.
And let’s not pretend that Spurrier’s critiques are coming from a place of impartiality. He’s always had a penchant for stirring the pot when it comes to Texas and the SEC. The former Florida coach still relishes the chance to jab at programs with high expectations and even higher visibility. But in targeting Arch Manning, Spurrier not only takes aim at an individual player—he takes aim at the broader direction of Texas football, a program on the cusp of reestablishing itself as a perennial contender.
Texas made the College Football Playoff in back-to-back seasons, falling short of a title but making it clear that the Longhorns are back in the national picture. That return hasn’t happened in spite of players like Manning—it’s been made possible because of a culture that attracts talents like him. The quarterback room is deep, the recruiting pipelines are strong, and Sarkisian has created an environment where development isn’t sacrificed for short-term gains. That’s the kind of program that Arch Manning was always going to thrive in.
The reality is this: Arch Manning might not be the next Peyton or Eli. He might carve out his own path that looks different from his uncles’ NFL careers. But that doesn’t make him a bust, nor does it mean Texas is overhyping him. It means he’s a college quarterback—one with immense potential, a steep learning curve, and all the tools to eventually become great. Spurrier, of all people, should know better than to count out a quarterback before he’s taken meaningful snaps against real SEC competition.
In fact, Spurrier’s own track record with quarterbacks was often defined by letting them develop. From Danny Wuerffel to Shane Matthews, he didn’t always ride the biggest names or the highest-ranked recruits. He rode the guys who fit his system, who were coachable, and who worked their way up. Arch Manning fits that mold. He’s not demanding a starting spot; he’s earning it. That humility, coupled with talent, is why Sarkisian and the Texas staff remain so high on him.
It’s easy for pundits like Spurrier to throw stones from the sidelines. But leadership today requires more than just hot takes and comparisons to the past. It requires acknowledging how the game has evolved—how NIL, the transfer portal, and increased player autonomy have changed development timelines. It’s not about starting as a freshman anymore. It’s about being ready when the opportunity finally comes. For Arch Manning, that moment may be fast approaching.
When it does, Spurrier may find himself revising his take.
In the end, the criticism from someone like Spurrier won’t define Arch Manning’s career. What will define it is how he responds, how he competes, and how he eventually leads. And if everything coming out of Texas is to be believed, that future remains extremely bright. Manning may have inherited a legacy, but he’s determined to build something uniquely his own in burnt orange and white. Spurrier’s opinion may have made headlines, but it missed the heart of the story.
Arch Manning is not hype. He’s not a placeholder. He’s not a shadow of his uncles. He is, quite simply, the future of Texas football. And Steve Spurrier, as sharp as he may be, got this one flat-out wrong.
