Judging from the reaction from front offices, Madison Square Garden and cyberspace, it seemed as if Eli Manning had been given the lead role in the NFL’s version of “The Passion of the Christ.” Verbally, he was scourged, beaten, flogged and crucified.

His crime was letting the Chargers know he didn’t want to play for them.

Rookies are supposed to shut up, pick up their teammates’ shoulder pads and show up on the bus with smiles on their faces. They are supposed to be passengers, not drivers, in the journey to their own destiny.

Speak up and you are a whiner. A politicker. An elitist. A weasel. You think you are bigger than the league. You have a meddling father and a money-grubbing brother. You probably club baby seals for kicks. Oh, and you suck! You suck! You suck!

Go ahead and boo Manning if it makes you feel bigger. But don’t blame him for trying to have a say in how his career unfolds.

Was this about wanting to avoid permanent scarring? No quarterback wants to be beaten silly behind an inadequate offensive line. The Chargers have only one offensive lineman returning who started more than half of the 2003 season, guard Phil Bogle, and he was an undrafted free agent.

What’s more, they had begun to try to trade incumbent quarterback Drew Brees with the thought that Manning could be the starter from the beginning.

Manning’s father, Archie, played 11 years with the Saints without experiencing a winning season and he, like every father, wanted better for his son. Big jerk, right?

Was this about wanting to be noticed by the people who bring Gatorade and Snickers to our television screens and highway billboards? Every player wants to maximize his marketing ability. And Manning had his brother, Peyton, to warn him about the disadvantages of playing in a small-market town.

This was about more than self-preservation and self-promotion. If you don’t think that a quarterback’s success can be influenced by the organization that chooses him, the coaching staff he plays for, the offensive system he’s asked to execute and the players around him, you haven’t been paying close attention to the NFL.

Eli Manning thinks his opportunity to succeed is better with the Giants than it would have been with the Chargers. You could debate the wisdom of that. The turnover rate of front-office men, coaches and players is so high in the NFL that the Chargers might look like a more solid organization than the Giants four years from now.

But Manning looked at the Chargers and saw four winning records in the last 21 seasons. He looked at the organization and saw a franchise that ranked near the bottom of the NFL in revenue. He looked at the city and saw a bad stadium deal and an eroding fan base. He looked at the front office and coaching staff and saw key decision makers in tenuous situations. He looked at the tape and saw arguably the least talented team in the NFL. He looked at the history — a legendary passing game with Dan Fouts, whiffing on Ryan Leaf, passing over Michael Vick — and saw expectations that would be almost impossible to fulfill.

Why should an elite NFL prospect be resented for acting like any other businessman? Millions of dollars, a career and even a legacy are at stake.

The Mannings understandably were concerned that Madison Square Garden might have been the wrong place to be. But in their hearts, they knew Eli belonged in New York.