Mark Madden: Kenny Pickett resurrected Pitt football but should not feel obligated to play in Peach Bowl

Hail to Pitt, certainly. But, mostly, hail to Kenny Pickett.

The same could be said about the quarterback of most championship teams. That job’s occupant must be a catalyst.

Pickett is that, and then some. Even breaking Dan Marino’s passing record pales next to Pickett taking a program that had wallowed in mediocrity (or worse) for four decades and piloting it to the championship of a very legit conference. (Pay no mind to those who say the ACC had a down year. Pitt had an up year. You can only win the conference in which you play.)

The current Pitt team doesn’t quite compare to those of the Tony Dorsett or Dan Marino eras. Pickett doesn’t quite compare to those legends, either.

But Pickett resurrected Pitt football. He joins Dorsett in that regard. Pickett’s No. 8 gets retired as an exclamation point to Pitt’s championship season.

Pickett is planning to play in Pitt’s Peach Bowl date with Michigan State.

He’s to be respected for doing so. He’s finishing what he started.

But he shouldn’t play.

Pickett finished his obligation to Pitt when the clock hit three zeroes Saturday night. He accomplished what he set out to do. (That assumes he ever thought it was possible.)

Pitt isn’t in the playoffs. The bowl game achieves no tangible good for Pitt, or for Pickett. He might already be a first-round pick. The Senior Bowl practices and NFL combine are much more influential in determining that than Pitt’s bowl game is.

Millions of dollars are at stake for Pickett. The chance of injury is no greater in the Peach Bowl than it is in any game. But Pitt’s bowl game is meaningless. (The college football playoff has rendered other postseason games superfluous. They’re a vacation and a chance for coaches and returning players to practice for next season.)

Jaylon Smith is a famous example of that risk coming bad: The Notre Dame linebacker was pegged to be a top-five pick in the 2016 NFL Draft. But he tore two knee ligaments in the Fiesta Bowl and was selected by the Dallas Cowboys in the second round (34th overall).

An injury suffered in a game that didn’t matter cost Smith tens of millions. The so-called “brotherhood” of playing in one last game just isn’t worth rolling those dice.

The purpose of college is to prepare you for a profession. There’s no good reason for Pickett to put his successful preparation at peril for something that doesn’t matter.

But that’s Pickett’s decision. Here’s hoping it works out.

Here’s hoping, too, the Pittsburgh Steelers don’t draft Pickett.

It’s easy to romanticize that happening. Pickett staying in Pittsburgh, using the same practice facility, replacing Ben Roethlisberger and continuing the lineage: Terry Bradshaw to Roethlisberger to Pickett (ignoring the 21 years between Bradshaw and Roethlisberger).

If it worked out, it would be great. It could work out, too.

But it also has the potential to be extremely toxic.

Regardless of caterwauling from the hoi polloi, Mason Rudolph figures to start at quarterback for the Steelers in 2022. Since drafting Bradshaw in 1970, there have been just three seasons when a QB not drafted by the Steelers started most of their games. So, wishful thinking duly noted, the Steelers are unlikely to sign a free-agent quarterback, let alone a big name.

If the Steelers do draft a quarterback, he won’t start right away. Roethlisberger didn’t.

Can you imagine if Rudolph starts, and Pickett’s the backup?

Every time Rudolph threw an incompletion, the citizens would clamor for Pickett. The fans wouldn’t give Rudolph a chance. (They might not, anyway.)

If Pickett did play, the pressure would be immense. He’d get some benefit of the doubt, especially early. But could Pickett ever really do good enough? (He’d be working with a bad team to start.)

Then again, Pickett could turn out to be Roethlisberger. Perhaps the Steelers should draft him.