Football, the number one sport in North America, stands unmatched, leaving baseball, hockey, and basketball far behind in market dominance. Not only is the NFL's professional league unparalleled, but even NCAA college football has unrivaled influence, leaving other professional leagues envious.
The numbers don't lie—
The season opener between the Crimson Tide and the Trojans didn't just set new records for in-person attendance; ABC's television broadcast also easily surpassed 20 million viewers.
It's 2016, and with the rise of online streaming, social media, and other forms of entertainment, traditional television ratings have declined across the board. Whether it's dramas, sports events, or talk shows, drawing over 10 million viewers is now a significant milestone.
Yet, despite this trend, the NCAA's 2016 season opener attracted more than 20 million viewers, easily eclipsing all other shows.
And the result?
In such a highly anticipated game, the player who dominated the front pages of newspapers and trended across social media was a complete stranger.
A completely unfamiliar face.
And more surprisingly, it was an Asian face!
How could this be?
Although Lance had garnered some attention during the spring training camp through ESPN's broadcast, it was, after all, just a practice game with limited significance. As a result, "Lance" and his face remained relatively unknown in the world of football.
Lance didn't know them, and they didn't know Lance—
A perfect mutual unfamiliarity.
But now, things had drastically changed. In the season opener, Lance single-handedly dominated the game and undoubtedly became the brightest star.
"177 yards and three touchdowns."
When people saw those stats, their eyes lit up. That kind of performance is nothing short of game-changing, enough to make anyone's heart race.
When they saw the note that added, "He only played in the first half," excitement turned into frenzy. Minds went blank, overwhelmed by the sheer impact of such a stat line.
So, who is he?
Not only was the entire NCAA curious, but the NFL's gaze quickly shifted toward him. Any player who can rack up 177 yards and three touchdowns in just one half is a significant prospect. But more importantly, the fact that no team had this player on their scouting reports was unacceptable.
The draft is critical for the NFL.
With large rosters and salary cap restrictions, building a competitive team solely through free agency is unrealistic and impractical. Teams rely on the draft, seeking out affordable, high-potential rookies to build their rosters and contend for championships.
Naturally, the draft is a top priority for every NFL team.
But now, a dominant player had emerged out of nowhere, and they knew nothing about him?
Unforgivable!
Even though it was just one game, and the season had only just begun, teams couldn't afford to be left in the dark. Whether or not they needed this player, they had to gather information.
Even if they didn't draft him, they needed to know if a rival team might pick him up.
In this information-driven era, a lack of knowledge means falling behind, and the NFL understands this better than anyone.
Yet here was a new star, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
Amid the buzz, all eyes turned toward him.
Lance's hastily prepared, bare-bones player profile quickly landed on the desks of team managers and coaches across the NFL.
Without exaggeration, all 32 professional teams had that report.
But—
In less than three seconds, over half of the teams put down the report, losing interest. The excitement that had just been brewing instantly vanished.
The reason was simple.
"Position: Running back."
That one word was enough to kill their enthusiasm. Many didn't even bother to read further.
This is the harsh reality.
To understand it fully, you need to dive deep into the history and intricacies of the NFL. But in short, it boils down to two key points.
First, the league's evolving trends.
In the 1980s and 1990s, running backs were the cornerstone of many teams, carrying as much weight as quarterbacks. Ground games and passing games shared the spotlight, and some teams even prioritized ground attacks, making running backs invaluable.
But entering the new millennium, the NFL changed a series of rules, claiming it was to "prevent injuries" and protect quarterbacks. While this was partly true, the real motive was to boost television ratings.
After all, in the fast-paced 21st century, where visual stimuli are constantly demanded, the dazzling, high-octane nature of passing plays won over viewers far more than the slower, more methodical ground game. The same trend was evident in other sports like soccer, where offensive plays became more popular than defensive ones.
While the situations weren't identical, the underlying principle was the same.
As the NFL altered its rules to favor passing, it became easier to make big plays through the air. Teams began to shift their playbooks, and by 2010, the league had fully entered the "passing era," a trend that only grew stronger with time.
Naturally, quarterbacks and positions linked to the passing game, like wide receivers and offensive tackles, saw their value skyrocket.
Meanwhile, running backs suffered the most.
The ground game fell out of favor with many teams, and running backs saw their importance and value plummet.
Second, the injury factor.
While all positions other than quarterback endure numerous hits, this is especially true for running backs.
Running backs constantly put their bodies on the line, enduring hit after hit to carve out yards, making it the most physically demanding position in football.
According to statistical data, the average career length for an NFL player is 3.3 years, but for running backs, it's only 2.57 years—the shortest among all positions.
Even Hall of Fame-caliber running backs only have peak seasons lasting three to four years, after which their physical performance begins to decline, even without major injuries.
Moreover, countless legendary running backs have been forced out of the game by injuries.
In other words, the risk-to-reward ratio is not favorable.
If a team signs a running back to a high-paying contract, only for that player to be injured in their second year, the team ends up with dead salary cap space and no production in return.
Considering these two main factors, along with several other reasons, the path forward for running backs in the NFL is increasingly treacherous.
Coaches know full well that without a strong ground game, it's hard to succeed through the air; without a good running back, offensive schemes can't be as effective.
However, the reality remains harsh.
So when team managers see the position "running back," their initial excitement often fades away.
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