On any given Sunday, catching touchdown passes from Peyton Manning is the coolest job in America. But the other 349 days a year? Working for the NFL's most demanding quarterback might be a more thankless task than being Donald Trump's apprentice. Or comb.

"It's not easy. He stays on you," said Broncos receiver Demaryius Thomas, his mouth as dry as cotton balls after he stayed past the end of practice for extra tutoring by Manning.

Earlier this week, I asked Manning if he viewed himself as demanding.

"I don't know," Manning replied. "That's probably something you could poll other people on, I guess."

Oh, I know. What's more, I'm 98.7 percent certain how Thomas would vote. Since Manning joined the Broncos, we have seen that wherever he goes, it's a no-slacking zone.

Manning is a heavenly quarterback. But for a star with 399 career TD passes to his name, perfect ranks a notch below satisfactory. So he can be the boss from You Know Where. He demands results. If you're lost, Manning isn't afraid to tell you where to go. The cerebral QB makes points so smart and sharp, the words can pierce a proud man's chest and go straight to the heart.

"Sometimes, it stings," Thomas said. "But I'm the type of guy that doesn't say anything. I just go back on the field and do my job."

Conventional wisdom suggests a quarterback of Manning's ability makes everybody around him better. There's a kernel of truth hiding a bigger idea.

From Michael Jordan in his prime with the Chicago Bulls to Patrick Roy leading the Avs to a Stanley Cup, the real power of superstardom always has been based in the competitive spirit of teammates who desperately don't want to fall short by comparison. So those teammates sweat more, focus more and learn more, all to improve their own games.

No offense to Manning. At 36 years old, however, he isn't going to carry the Broncos to the Super Bowl, any more than John Elway did at the same age.

At this point in his career, it's highly unlikely Manning will improve. But here's what could happen: Thomas will teach himself to run more precise routes and focus more on a third-down catch, if for no other reason than to not let down a legendary quarterback.

"Bay Bay!"

Thomas still cringes at the memory of a coach screaming at him as a teenager, shouting the nickname pinned to a young athlete who grew up in Georgia.

"Bay Bay!"

When Thomas committed a dumb turnover in high school, coach Paul Williams would get on his case. Hard. Long. And loud.

"He would call me out in the gym in front of everybody," said Thomas, recalling the tough love from Williams. "When you messed up, that coach made you run around the court carrying a 15-pound medicine ball over your head. Made you do it for five minutes, maybe longer, depending on what you did wrong."

Back in the day, Thomas could not have possibly known.

But by forcing Thomas to do penance under a medicine ball, that old hoops coach was preparing a future NFL receiver to deal with the pressure of playing alongside Manning.

"Yeah," said Thomas, laughing. "It's good and it's hard, all at the same time."

During the noon hour Monday, as Manning held a one-sided, animated discussion with Thomas while other Broncos hit the showers, the quarterback paused to be certain television cameras weren't rolling. Praise in public. Work out the kinks in private. It's smart business.

Manning throws a pretty spiral. But that's not his real magic.

A quarterback's primary duty is to lead drives to the end zone. Along the way, maybe Manning can drive Thomas to be a bigger star on the field than the third-year pro receiver previously believed was possible.

"He stays on you," Thomas told me, reinforcing the theory it's the peer pressure that ultimately benefits teammates of Manning, Jordan or Roy the most.

"The more (Manning) stays on you, the better football player you become. I like it. When somebody stays on me, sure, it might bother me. But, at the same time, it makes me better."

Mark Kiszla: 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com