I found this article here:
Keep in mind when reading that the Guard Stood up and everyone was set well before they snapped the ball, all they need is one second. That is why it wasn't a FS flag. A lot of time when they did it there were still 10 seconds on the clock and I bet after the guard got into his stance other factors between Ben and the Center were in play.
It is long but good so here are some excerpts, won't shock you to see who is a key player in the article:
After years of trial and error, of ill-conceived high-tech solutions and rules changes, here was the elegant answer: timing. Instead of having the quarterback call out the count, he handed the responsibility to the center. He simply tapped the center on the butt when he was ready to receive the ball. The center then lifted his head to look squarely at the defensive player in front of him, signaling to the line that the silent snap count had started. He and the linemen would then count to themselves, "One-one-thousand," and the center would snap the ball.
It was so simple, it was beautiful. As soon as the center lifted his head, the other linemen could turn their heads toward the defenders, count one-one-thousand and go. To mix things up, the rhythm of the silent count was varied. In the huddle, the center was instructed to snap either one count after the signal or two. Football being the ultimate macho sport, the code became c--k for one and balls for two.
Mudd had been around the NFL long enough to know that a new idea, even a great one, would be a hard sell. Football is a conservative sport.
...
A COACH WITH a great idea is nothing without a great player. Glenn was the genius Mudd had been waiting for. "He was the best," Mudd says. "The best ever."
A first-round draft pick in 1997, Glenn spent his first year discovering that blocking NFL defensive ends was hard under ordinary circumstances, but when he couldn't hear, it was nearly impossible. Manning arrived the following year and was understandably frustrated when defensive ends kept hitting him like freight trains from his blind side. Mudd remembers hearing the quarterback chew out Glenn on the sideline during one game and stepping up to defend his tackle. "Tarik can't hear you," Mudd told Manning.
"Well, he should be able to hear," Manning complained. "It's not that loud."
"That's bull----," Mudd said.
"Well, [tackle Adam] Meadows can hear!"
"You are not in charge of deciding what Tarik can hear and what he can't hear!" Mudd told him.
Mudd prevailed on his skeptical coach, Jim Mora, to let him drill the players on the silent count at every practice. If deaf kids could do it, Mudd told the players, pros could too. And he was right. In time Manning became a fervent convert.
"I was wrong, and Howard was right," Manning says. "It was my responsibility to make sure all the linemen could hear me, and it was especially difficult for us because we were using a no-huddle offense most of the time. The silent count solved a lot of problems for us."
The Colts got good at it. Glenn got very good at it. He learned to coordinate the count with the swivel of his head. It was like a dance move. "It made a huge difference," he says. "It gave me time to face the task at hand. It's all about timing, and pretty quick I could just feel it." In fact Glenn started getting off the snap so fast that refs flagged him, claiming he had jumped too early. Mudd defended him. "He would send a man to the league office and have them review it," says Glenn. "After a while they started to see that I wasn't offside. Coach Howard didn't just come up with the silent count, he sold it, to the team and then to the league."
Soon Manning and Saturday were using the silent count for every snap on the road, and they even used it in their own domed stadium when things got too loud. Manning by then was famous for gesticulating and shouting instructions from the backfield before the snap of the ball. With the silent count he didn't have to worry about inadvertently triggering—√† la Baab—the snap. Once he had things set the way he wanted, he would tap or signal Saturday, and the silent count would take over. "He could also do more to manipulate the defense with his leg, given that they had to anticipate the snap so much more intensely," the retired center recalls.
Manning noticed another advantage. "Our timing got so good with it," he says, "we were getting fewer offensive penalties on the road than at home." The silent count was not just a remedy for the noise problem; it was also a secret weapon. During Mudd's 12 years in Indianapolis, his offensive line allowed fewer sacks than any other in the NFL, even though Manning's offense relied on passing. The Colts won the Super Bowl in 2007.
...
"The rule says that the center has to come to a complete stop for a full second before the ball is snapped," said Fisher. He went on about it for some time, making the same point: It wasn't fair!
Eventually Seahawks coach Mike Holmgren, an old offensive coordinator, started chuckling. "Jeff, when are you supposed to go on defense anyway?" he asked.
"Well, they are drawing us offside, and they are not supposed to," argued Fisher.
"Jeff, when are you supposed to go on defense?" Holmgren repeated.
"They are not coming to a full stop!"
"Jeff, when are you supposed to go?"
Finally Fisher conceded, "When the ball goes."
Howard Mudd's revolution was complete.
Complaints like Fisher's didn't go away immediately. The next year the NFL circulated a memo instructing centers to stop moving their heads a full second before snapping the ball. Otherwise refs would flag them for illegal motion. It sounded like a small thing, but the Colts had perfected the rhythm of the silent count and did not want to mess with it. So they ignored the memo. Refs found the new rule too difficult to enforce, and it went the way of flags for excessive crowd noise.
More here:
http://www.si.com/vault/2013/09/02/1...lent-treatment