Dart’s rookie campaign has all the makings of a franchise quarterback breakout. He’s posted 2,456 passing yards, completed 68% of his throws, tossed 18 touchdowns against 7 interceptions, and—perhaps most impressively—leads all rookies with 412 rushing yards, surpassing even Jayden Daniels. He’s been the heartbeat of New York’s offense, guiding the team to a 2–3 record in his starts, including that stunning upset over the Eagles.

But for all the highs, the concerns are impossible to ignore. Dart has already entered four concussion protocols, raising major questions about durability. His tendency to hold the ball—an average of 2.9 seconds, the third-slowest among starters—invites unnecessary pressure. And despite his highlight-reel plays, he still has zero fourth-quarter comebacks on his résumé. As one analyst put it:
“He’s Mahomes-lite with Vick’s recklessness. Love the fire, hate the funerals.”

Off the field, Dart is a marketer’s jackpot. His emotional pre-game prayer circles with teammates have gone viral, sparking both criticism and support. Detractors called the displays inappropriate, while defenders countered, “Ban field prayers? Nah, let them believe.”

His popularity hit another level during the Pro Bowl voting push—thanks to the Giants’ “1 repost = 1 vote” campaign—which earned him over 50,000 fan votes in a single night.

Then there are the nicknames: the smooth-running “Vanilla Vick,” the dark-humored but trending “Concussion Cowboy,” and plenty more circulating among fans. Dart’s brand might be as dented as his helmet, but it’s undeniably magnetic.

Critics continue to highlight New York’s porous offensive line, which allows 3.2 sacks per game, yet Dart refuses to blame the protection.
“I see lanes, I take ’em,” he said after the Chicago matchup. “Sliding’s for scooters.”

His teammates back his fearless style—mostly. As star receiver Nabers posted:
“He makes us better. Just wish he’d duck sometimes.”