Donovan McNabb and Michael Vick - two quarterbacks whose paths have crossed more than a few times - will share the spotlight Sunday when the Washington Redskins visit the Philadelphia Eagles.
It began in 1997 when McNabb was a star at Syracuse University, dreaming of the NFL, and Vick was a high-school star looking to follow in McNabb's footsteps.
McNabb played host to Vick during Vick's Syracuse recruiting visit, but he opted instead for Virginia Tech, where he became an even bigger star than McNabb had been at Syracuse.
By then McNabb had moved on to the Eagles, part of a draft class that changed pro football forever when three black quarterbacks - McNabb, Daunte Culpepper and Akili Smith - were all taken in the first round.
In 2000, McNabb ran for 629 yards and threw for 3,365 in his second NFL season, helping to create acceptance for running quarterbacks, since along with his ability to rush the ball effectively, he possessed one of the deadliest arms in the NFL.
McNabb was the new breed of dual-threat quarterback, as admired for his intelligence and leadership ability as his physical skills. He helped pave the way for Vick.
When McNabb turned a losing franchise into a winner, won the confidence of his teammates and changed games with his combined talents of running and throwing, attitudes changed.
When Vick became the first African-American quarterback selected first overall in the draft, by the Atlanta Falcons in 2001, it quieted the long-burning issue of blacks at the position.
Vick's rookie NFL season was like watching the next-generation model of McNabb roll off the line. Only if McNabb was a Corvette, Vick was a Lamborghini. Faster, more fearless, Vick possessed a confidence not seen in many athletes in any sport. He was less refined than McNabb, but more dynamic.
In an NFL that at times looks programmed, Vick was untamed, a player allowed to play the game differently since only a fool would try to limit the first quarterback to rush for 1,000 yards in a season.
It turned out the only person who could limit Vick was Vick himself.
But when he returned from serving his federal sentence for funding a dogfighting ring, McNabb helped recruit him again, this time successfully to Philadelphia. The Eagles were still McNabb's team, but Vick could attract the spotlight even standing in someone else's shadow.
When he played, however, it looked different. Observers said he was slower, less athletic and sharp, that the magic that once was Michael Vick no longer existed in a 29-year-old man who had spent most of the previous two years in prison.
And besides, it wasn't as if McNabb, who had done everything for Philadelphia but win a championship, was going anywhere.
Or was he? The relationship between McNabb and the Eagles, once a perfect fit, had become strained by four losses in the National Football Conference championship game and one in the Super Bowl. (Coincidentally, to get to the championship game, McNabb led the Eagles over the Vick-led Falcons.)
By last winter in Philadelphia, McNabb was defined not by what he'd done, but by what he'd left undone. Which is a burden Vick doesn't have to bear now while carrying the torch for a team whose last NFL title came in 1960, well before anyone had ever heard the words Super Bowl.
McNabb is in Washington, trying to show he can do in another city what he failed to do in Philly, that somehow the bad karma was theirs not his.
Vick, who took over the Eagles' offence in Week 1 after Kevin Kolb went down with an injury, has led the team to two wins and has been named the starter for the rest of the season. Now the hottest topic in the NFL, he's proving it's possible to ride out the storm and be yet again cast as a hero, that all those who'd concluded he'd lost something were wrong.
Two players who know what it's like to be loved and rejected, to different degrees and for different reasons, each seeking redemption.