Football is commonly known as “the ultimate team game”, which makes sense. With only 10 total guys on the court at a time, one player can have a significant impact in basketball. In baseball, a pitcher touches the ball on every play, and in some cases can even take a few cuts in the batters box to better his chance at winning. But football requires 11 guys on the field for each team at all times (53 guys per roster), and EVERYBODY must “do their job” successfully to have a positive impact on a given play. String together about 70 of those and you might win a football game.
Knowing this, it seems ironic the general football community would collectively excommunicate one position from relevancy, especially one that usually touches the ball around 30 times a game for each team. Somehow, this is what has become of the running back position in the NFL.
Running backs, tailbacks, halfbacks, fullbacks, H-backs— they’re all a thing of the past, at least that’s what we’re led to believe. Isn’t that what Chip Kelly and the Philadelphia Eagles said this week by dealing their two-time First Team All-Pro ball-carrier LeSean McCoy to the Buffalo Bills? Kelly couldn’t even wait until the official start of the new league year to ship Shady out of town, and the overwhelming explanation? The lack of value of currently held by the star running back. In fact, running the football has been de-emphasized altogether by media. Every talking head on every network has moved this from the opinion side to the fact side of the ledger. But is the state of the running back position really as dire as everyone makes it out to be? Or could this be a simple case of death by entertainment value?
Those who point out the Iggles willingness to dump McCoy, and his career 1,512 annual total yard average, neglect the fact that Rex Ryan and the Buffalo Bills traded for the three-time Pro Bowler. The anti “three yards and a cloud of dust” Woody Hayes crowd ignore the NFL’s last non-quarterback to win MVP was Adrian Peterson in 2012. Remember that guy? He’s a running back, and a damn good one too. Moreover, the last two non-QBs besides AD to take home the award were also running backs, each took place within the last decade (Shaun Alexander in ’05, Ladanian Tomlinson in ’06). We’re not talking about ancient history here.
Never mind the point that the entire sports universe went Ultimate Warrior all over their living rooms when Marshawn Lynch DIDN’T get the football on the 1-yard line in the final moments of Super Bowl XLIX. Why the outrage? It just so happens the Seattle Seahawks had made it to back-to-back Super Bowls by running the football, so much so that Beastmode’s trademark avalanche-like scampers (avalanche with locks, sure) had come to define the identity of the incumbent champions.
Nobody has constructed a better roster over the last five years than Seahawks general manager John Schneider. Strangely, Schneider appears to have a wacky appreciation for running the rock. He emphasized it and it’s more than paid off— it all starts with Lynch. Maybe this is why Schneider inked Marshawn to a two-year extension on Friday. According to ESPN, the deal raises Lynch’s 2015 salary to a whopping $12 million, while also kicking in an additional $24 million should he return for 2016 and 2017. With full knowledge of the impending clock is ticking on the his superstar quarterback’s next deal, why would the best GM in football invest all that loot in a position that, let everyone else tell it, is obsolete?
You know you put in work when you’re erasing Emmitt Smith’s name out the Cowboy record books.
Why would the Dallas Cowboys choose to place the franchise tag on wide receiver Dez Bryant (giving him a one-year deal worth the average salary of the five highest paid players at his position), rather than locking him up long term if they didn’t want to spend a large portion of that money on running back DeMarco Murray, or some other tailback (possibly Peterson)? The Cowboys, incidentally, have been stuck in football purgatory for so long they’re getting mail there, yet the only thing that allowed “America’s Team” to awaken from its rampant apathy towards winning was a career campaign from Murray. He rushed for 1,845 yards and 13 touchdowns, won the NFL AP Offensive Player of the Year Award and finished tied for third in MVP voting.
Sidebar: Murray inexplicably tied for third with his teammate Tony Romo. No knock on Romo, but anybody who watched the Cowboys knew Dallas used the run to set up the pass. Therefore, Romo’s incredible efficiency was largely a byproduct of their commitment to the run game. Hence, Murray was easily more valuable than Romo. But I digress.
Individual running backs having real value on a football team is not an archaic concept seen only on NFL Films. Neither is having a rushing attack serve as the focal point of an offense. Maybe they don’t go as high in the draft anymore, but every team in the league that’s not fortunate enough to have a dominant three-down back is in constant search of two or more guys who can successfully run the rock. We saw the New England Patriots dismantle the Indianapolis Colts via the ground game in the AFC Championship (it’s just too bad we couldn’t replay that game after finding out one of the teams cheated) and win the Super Bowl in a season where they had four different backs lead them in rushing each of the first four months of the season. We also saw teams with dynamic passing attacks like the Green Bay Packers and Denver Broncos win only one playoff game combined this past January.
The abused “death of the running back” angle is akin to the equally annoying cliché, “boxing is dead”. Everybody seems convinced that The Sweet Science has long since been overrun by Mixed Martial Arts, in spite of the UFC’s biggest star, Jon “Bones” Jones, never earning more than $550,000 in one night. Meanwhile boxing’s brightest star, Floyd “Money” Mayweather, could make up to $180 MILLION on May 2nd! Floyd also has the highest grossing pay-per-view of all-time under his many championship belts (the 2013 Canelo Álvarez fight), which clobbered any numbers the UFC has ever done.
But UFC “killed” boxing. Right.
The same general idea is at work in the NFL. Nobody is arguing the ground and pound approach has the same influence it once had or that it’s more vital to winning than a refined aerial assault. Though the notions that running backs have no value and that running the football cannot serve as the primary means of a Super Bowl caliber offense are erroneous.