Michael Strahan didn’t call out Patrick Mahomes by name. But we all knew all the fingers were pointing at him and those who have been taking his route under center with the whole ‘Fake Sliding’ and walking away with security. The latter is important because Strahan doesn’t have a problem with QBs sliding; it’s how the NFL treats the signal-callers afterward. That’s his thing about the recent football evolution.

When the Giants legend went off about the NFL going “soft” on the 7 PM in Brooklyn podcast, it was clear who (and what) he had in mind. Fake slides. Over-the-top protection. Quarterbacks are getting Oscar-worthy flags. You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. Apparently, Strahan has too.

“If you put your hands up and graze a helmet, it’s ‘throw the flag!’” he said. And then came the kicker: “You can’t get a quarterback who fakes like he’s gonna slide and then keeps running.” Subtle? Sure. But that one was wearing a red No. 15 jersey and throwing sidearms in Strahan’s head.

We know Mahomes isn’t the only one doing it, but by a large consensus, he’s definitely the most frustrating to watch when he does. At least, the Texans fans will tell you that much. Not just them, though. Anyone who watches the games. Troy Aikman lost it during the Texans–Chiefs playoff game. “Oh, come on!” he snapped, after Mahomes baited a penalty by easing up before the sideline, trying to sell contact.

“You can’t, as a quarterback, run around and play games with defenders and be able to draw a penalty.” And if that wasn’t clear enough, he called out Mahomes again for flopping—yep, the quarterback version of a LeBron sideline flop.

Let’s be fair—nobody’s saying quarterbacks don’t need protection. Strahan even said it himself. But safety shouldn’t mean you get to weaponize the rules to extend drives and dodge contact like you’re in a non-contact scrimmage. Because right now, quarterbacks are basically playing flag football while defenders are stuck in a tackle league with one hand tied behind their back.

“I respect the fact they’re trying to keep players safe. You can’t get a quarterback who goes out of bounds, like, against the last inch of it and then gets out of bounds. I’m gonna try to light your ass up, because you’re still on the field and you’re still a player. We’re all football players. Play through the whistle… So when I see it now, I think some of the game has gone a little too soft.” Strahan concluded his two cents on the evolution of the game. The man who lit up the gridiron by putting the QBs on the hit list just doesn’t stand for this.

He’s like Micah Parsons. If you’re inside the line, milking out the inches, you’re getting taken down. Micah said it last season, “If a quarterback acts like he’s going out of bounds, that’s where you should mark him at.” Seems simple, doesn’t it? It should be. But the rulebook hasn’t kept up.

Back in the day, the slide was for QBs who had no business running. Now? The guys sliding are built like linebackers. Mahomes is 6’2″, 225. v is bigger than most tight ends. Lamar Jackson is a blur. These are not “defenseless players”—they’re dual-threat weapons who know how to milk every inch of real estate (and every gray area in the rulebook). The NFL’s old logic just doesn’t apply anymore.

So what’s next? More clarity on it. Because if defenders keep getting baited into drive-extending penalties, we’re going to start seeing more frustrated reactions like Aikman’s. Or more not-so-subtle shots like Strahan’s. “Protect everybody the same,” Strahan said. But it’s hard to say how Pat would’ve dealt with an ex-Giant in Michael Strahan, even after all the protection.

Michael Strahan was more than just the ‘single-season sack record’ defender

It’s 2018. You’re in Big Blue, surfing on the internet for random updates. And you came across the Bleacher Report’s article in the offseason, titled: Top 50 Giants of All Time. It’s a sweet walk back down the memory lane… Then you reach the top six. Guess who sat pretty at No. 6? Yup—Michael Strahan.

Sixth out of every Giants legend who’s ever laced up in blue. That, folks, is a legacy you can’t describe in words. For every question, the answer would be: ‘Watch the films, you’ll know.’ The guy wasn’t just another edge rusher—he was the edge. And if you needed a reminder, look no further than that 2008 Super Bowl parade. Lombardi trophy in hand. Confetti raining down.

Strahan didn’t show up in New York dreaming of gold jackets or prime-time gigs. “My goal when I first started was just to make a little money so I didn’t have to move back to my parents’ house,” he once said. That was the real talk. But then, every kid growing up, coming out of college, is trying to make it. Strahan? He didn’t just make it—he redefined it. Defensive Player of the Year. Seven Pro Bowls. 22.5 sacks in 2001. Yes, that record. The one that Favre may or may not have gift-wrapped like a Christmas sack.

Fast forward to his final act—2008, against the undefeated Patriots. One last sack. One last statement. And then? He walked off into the sunset like the script had already been written. Canton came calling in 2014, and there was never a doubt. “I just look at myself as a football player who happens to play as hard as I could,” he said. That kind of humility? Rare. That kind of résumé? Even rarer.

And don’t think the work stopped there. Strahan hit the post-career playbook like he was chasing down QBs. TV shows. Morning talk gigs. That Subway smile. But ask Giants fans what mattered most? It’s the guy who never came off the field. Mathias Kiwanuka remembers that clearly: “They’re going to have to drag me off the field,” Strahan would say.

So, how do you sum it all up? A second-round pick out of Texas Southern who didn’t want to disappoint his parents ended up with 141.5 career sacks, a ring, a Hall of Fame bust, and the undying love of a city. Michael Strahan wasn’t just part of Giants history—he is a Giant now. And if you ever forget that, just rewatch that Super Bowl XLII tape, and you’ll know.