Colonel_Reb
Hall of Famer
This article is from 2003, but I wanted to put it up here for comment.
Teams favor speed over inside muscle
By Eric Edholm Pro Football Weekly
Chargers RB LaDainian Tomlinson was ecstatic when he heard the news. His team had signed an offensive weapon to open things up and keep swarming defenses from ganging up on him.
David Boston?
No, Tomlinson was thrilled his team had signed FB Lorenzo Neal, the most respected Sherpa at one of the NFL's least appreciated positions. For years, it has been Neal's job to lead fast, young runners through narrow passages between mountainous linemen, and for the past six seasons Neal has guided six consecutive 1,000-yard runners.
"The holes are bigger now," Tomlinson told reporters at the time, with the grin of a Cheshire cat.
Tomlinson is not alone in his exultation. Titans RB Eddie George once said that Neal was one of the main reasons George had his career-best season in 2000. Perhaps people are finally taking notice of what Neal does. Last year, he made his first Pro Bowl as the Bengals' lone representative.
But Neal's signing bonus of $1 million -- a veritable windfall for the position -- paled in comparison to the $4.55 million Boston got three days later.
"It is a dinosaur position," said current Lions RB coach and former 49ers FB Tom Rathman, one of the true stars at the position in the 1980s and '90s. "In the West Coast scheme, under (former 49ers coach) Bill Walsh, fullback was a very important position with a lot of responsibilities. Although fullbacks generally don't look for touches, I was used in a lot of ways. Now, teams primarily line (the fullback) up as a blocker, and that's it."
In part because of its devolution, it is also one of the most underappreciated positions in pro football these days, according to the guys who are asked to block 250-pound linebackers head on dozens of times a game. And in many ways, despite their hard work, the fullback is going the way of the Wing-T and the leather helmet. Even though fullbacks are not likely to disappear any time soon, they are no longer vital pieces on championship teams. And they certainly don't run the ball anymore.
"Most fullbacks ran the ball in college," Neal said. "I am a strong believer in myself that on 3rd-and-1 or 3rd-and-2, I am going to get the first down. I like my chances (to get the first down) 90 percent of the time. But teams don't call our number very often."
Bronko Nagurski and Ernie Nevers were the first stars at the position, followed by Clarke Hinkle and Jim Taylor. Even Jim Brown was considered a fullback when teams of the day lined up in the split-back alignment most of the time. There are nine true fullbacks in the Hall of Fame, the most recent of which is Larry Csonka; it's safe money to bet that Csonka will be the last.
"I am a self-confessed purist and probably a dinosaur," says Giants general manager Ernie Accorsi, also a historian of the pro game, "but to me one of the most disappointing developments in pro football has been the disappearance of the fullback -- what I consider a fullback. Those days are gone. I hope they come back. I don't think they ever will because the fullback is a different position now. It's a blocking position.
"(Teams) will flare fullbacks out and throw to them, but you can just see that's not part of their game. Bill Walsh always had a fullback and threw to him, and he was a very big part of the offense. But the I-formation ruined it."
As recently as the 1990s, the position was vital to no fewer than eight out of 10 Super Bowl winners. You could argue that Walsh's 49ers (Rathman and later William Floyd), and the Cowboys (Daryl "Moose" Johnston), Packers (William Henderson) and Broncos (Howard Griffith) all had dominant players at fullback, paving the way for some lethal running attacks.
Then in 1999 the Rams spread the field a great deal of the time, often using three- and four-WR sets, and in the process helped change the face of offensive football these days. Teams such as the Colts and Titans hardly use a fullback now. The fullback has become the ultimate specialist player -- and in some cases, an afterthought. Speed rules, and they are often the first players to go off the field when it's third down or anything longer than five yards to the first-down marker.
"It's a copycat league, and when teams went to the spread formation a lot, everyone did it," Rathman said. "When the Rams and other teams did use a fullback, it was in special packages or for blitz protection. Often times teams will just use a running back or a tight end there - a guy who plays another position."
For many NFL fullbacks, they called another position theirs before making the switch in high school, college or even the pros. Some are converted linebackers or tight ends or oversized running backs. Take Giants FB Jim Finn -- a squatty, 6-0, 240-pound Ivy League-fast runner who is among Penn's all-time leading rushers but is considered slow for tailback in the pros -- who knew his ticket to the NFL would not include lining up as the lead runner.
"I knew my only realistic shot of making it in the NFL was at fullback," Finn said. "(Switching positions) was just something I knew I had to do if I was going to make it. There was no deciding - that's just the way it was going to be."
Kansas City's Tony Richardson, a heralded high school tailback, got the bad news when he got to Auburn: He'd be sitting behind James Bostic and Stephen Davis. Fullback was his best option. After going undrafted and spending some time on the Cowboys' practice squad, the Chiefs picked him up, and he faced the same kind of situation: be a role player or hit the road.
"When I came into the league I got the chance to block in front of Marcus Allen, and I maybe didn't realize it at the time, but that was an honor -- a part of history. I decided to perfect my blocking and take a lot of pride in what I do. Now, I try to do what the team asks of me: line up here and there and lay blocks and do whatever it takes to win, even if it's not all about catching and running with the ball."
"It's changed a great deal," Chiefs general manager Carl Peterson said. "We have that position move a lot. That's why it's called many times an H-back, a moving back. The days of a big, burly fullback in an I-formation that's going to block a linebacker or a defensive end or whatever are not here to any great degree any longer."
Others such as Miami's Rob Konrad and Philadelphia's Jon Ritchie certainly have the ability to do more than just block, but they realize that their versatility does not guarantee that they will get the ball very much.
"When I was first here, I barely touched the ball - even less than I do now," said Konrad, who ran the ball a great deal at Syracuse. "It was just the offense we ran under (then-Miami offensive coordinator) Kippy Brown, the old Bruce Coslet system where fullbacks are only blockers. Now under Norv Turner, there's a lot more for me to do."
Said Ritchie, who left the Raiders to sign with the Eagles in the offseason: "I know I was brought here to block. And it's 90 percent of what teams are looking for in a fullback. Sure, some guys can take a handoff or catch a pass here or there, but let's face it: We are here to block for the faster backs. Why, when (they) have faster guys behind me, would they give me the ball?"
A recent development manifested this offseason when several fullbacks, including Neal and Ritchie, changed teams. No fewer than 13 teams had new starting fullbacks in Week One from the year before.
"I think some teams do have the sense of, 'We can go out and sign any free agent to play (fullback),' " Steelers FB Dan Kreider, regarded as one of the best run blockers in the game, said. "I have been lucky to be in Pittsburgh the past four years."
A pro scout broke down the duties of a fullback as such: 85 percent of is blocking; 10 percent is receiving; five -- and that might be generous -- is running with the ball. Consider that Ritchie has not taken a handoff in a regular-season game since 1999. Kreider, who had six rushing attempts all last season, was surprised at his production in Week Three's win over Cincinnati: three carries for 13 yards.
"A reporter was joking with me, saying I did half a season's worth of work in one game," Kreider said. "I guess my next (handoff) won't be until November. But that's fine with me. We have the guys here to carry the ball."
Lions FB Cory Schlesinger shares Kreider's unselfish attitude: "I am not whispering in the coaches' ears or anything, 'Give me the ball.' But if I do see a situation where I think I can help in that regard, I will tell the coaches. I trust them to make the play calls, and I just have to be ready the next time I get the football."
Even though blocking is such a major part of the position, specialist receivers such as Dallas' Richie Anderson and New England's Larry Centers -- who says he is the "best ever at the position" -- have carved out niches and made careers the past decade out of being hybrid pass catchers. Sometimes players like Anderson and Johnson create major problems for opponents' defenses.
"Let's not forget that the player those great Ravens defenses of a few years ago struggled the most with was Richie Anderson," said Johnston, now a TV analyst for Fox. "He presented real problems for them, and there is a place for that kind of player."
Although there is a good share of more diverse fullbacks such as Centers who catch the ball as well as anything else they do, there is evidence that teams still value the barreling lead-blocker types -- and Centers' offseason is a case in point. This summer, the Bills let Centers go in favor of Sam Gash, one of the league's most physical run blockers. Even though Centers was a valuable part of the passing offense, they wanted to establish the power running game behind Gash.
"There's something to be said about a guy like Lorenzo Neal or Gash who can isolate, go one-on-one with a 290-pound defensive end," Johnston said. "That is very rare. Your average fullback is not asked to do that. They get help. But it changes the designs of your plays when you have a guy like that who can hold his own on an island."
Jumbo-sized Cardinals FB James Hodgins, thought by many to be a de facto tackle-eligible at 271 pounds who lines up in the backfield and wears a running back's number, thinks that the position gets a bad rap as simply blockers but is resigned to the fact that it's what they are mainly asked to do.
"You are paid to do a certain thing, which is blocking, but that doesn't mean we can't catch the ball or run with it. It's just what the teams want that matters, and I am just as happy doing that as I am getting the ball. It makes no difference to me," Hodgins said.
There are signs, however slim, that some innovative coaches might be willing to use the fullback as a "secret weapon" to catch snoozing defenses off-guard. Hodgins, for instance, caught the game-winning TD pass against the Packers two weeks ago when the defense was thinking run on second-and-goal. The Giants caught the Redskins napping in overtime the same day when they threw an outlet pass to Finn. Pro Bowl LB LaVar Arrington was supposed to cover Finn on the play, who rumbled 27 yards down the sideline, setting up PK Matt Bryant's game-winning field goal.
And when Jaguars FB Marc Edwards scored on a two-yard blast in Week 1 against the Panthers, you can't really blame Carolina defensive coordinator Mike Trgovac for not protecting against the play better: Edwards' TD run was the first by a Jacksonville fullback since 1998 because former coach Tom Coughlin barely, if ever, used the position, much less to run the ball.
Tampa Bay's Mike Alstott is as close to a superstar, or at least a household name, as the position has seen over the past decade. He has run for 4,606 yards with 47 touchdowns in his eight-year career and is seen as the premier runner at his position.
Of course, that's not entirely true if you ask some who view Alstott as a spurious member of the fullback fraternity.
Most football experts -- not the people who vote for Pro Bowl positions, evidently -- know that Alstott lines up mostly in a one-back, two-TE set, also called an "ace formation," mislabeling him as a true fullback. He is not your traditional, sock-'em-in-the-mouth blocker by any means.
"Let's get one thing straight," said Johnston, "Mike Alstott is not a fullback. He is a three-quarters back - not a halfback, not a tailback."
Alstott has been the NFC's Pro Bowl representative the past five years, but there are some who say he does not deserve the honor in the same way that, say, Richardson or San Francisco FB Fred Beasley -- "true" fullbacks -- do. Beasley, for his part, is used to being snubbed at this thankless position.
"I know that I am not going to get the ball 15, even 10 times each game," Beasley said. "I know that. But if they do call on me, I am ready. I am a little fortunate that I get to touch the football a little more than (other fullbacks), but I look at my job as the big picture. There are a lot of other things I have to do besides run with the ball, like hitting. I love hitting. This is a hard position, and people don't always realize it."
If the position is to see a revival in terms of touching the football, it will be with a player like Alstott, who carries the ball more than once or twice a game, if at all. And Accorsi thinks that player also would have to benefit from more offensive creativity - or nostalgia, perhaps - on the part of offensive coordinators.
"I am no coach, but if somebody was innovative enough, it could happen," Accorsi said. "Say there was another Roger Craig coming out now - and he wasn't a tailback, he was the fullback. If the coach was creative enough to use a Brown and Red formation, split the backs, and (the fullback) is going to be my big back, and he's going to run the ball. & I think that it would change it."
Johnston envisions another way more versatile fullbacks could affect the way the position is used: "When you talk to defensive coordinators, the thing they worry about the most is when teams send in a certain personnel group - one tight end, two backs, let's say - and open it up from there. That scares them. If you see three wideouts come onto the field in a substitution, they send out their nickel package. But if you could find a (fullback) who was versatile enough to line up in the slot or move around the way tight ends do, then you've got something."
There's another reason why the position hasn't really produced a household name in a while: Young players don't want to play second fiddle, and so few players are groomed to be fullbacks from the first time they strap on a helmet. Two-way fullbacks in high school are usually future linebackers if they go on to play college ball. Plus, in today's NFL, statistics are everything: your contract value, your star power and your marketability. It's also an ego blow. Not surprisingly, fullbacks are also among the NFL's worst-paid players.
"It really was tough (to accept being a blocker full time)," Neal said. "I was talking to my father about it. As a rookie I was running the ball a lot, but then I broke my ankle. The next year I came back, I was a blocker. He said, 'Look, whatever they ask you to do, you do it and be the best at it.'
"And I just took that approach. I knew this is what they were going to have me do. A lot of guys could still be in this league if they adjusted, and their perception (of what kind of players they are) is something else."
Said Accorsi: "We have told (college players) in the past, 'We are interested in you as a fullback,' and they say, 'Oh no.' They know they are not going to be carrying the ball. They are going to be sacrificed up there. It's just too bad more kids don't take advantage of playing the position, and it's too bad they don't have more respect for what fullbacks do."
In Pro Football Weekly's 2003-2004 Pro Prospects Preview, the top-rated fullback is Arizona State's Mike Karney, who grades out to a fifth- or sixth-round pick in next year's draft. Of the 262 players selected in last April's draft, fewer than 10 are considered to be pure fullbacks; the highest one picked, Michigan's B.J. Askew, who was taken by the Jets in the third round, was considered a reach by many. And many don't even consider Askew, mainly a pass catcher in college, to be a true blocking back.
"There are not many guys on the college level who fit what teams are looking for many times," said an NFC West scout. "Sometimes you will see a college tight end or a running back, and you might say, 'He looks like a fullback possibility.' Of course, it's easier to take a kid who has made those blocks and lined up three yards behind the quarterback, but very few fit what (NFL teams) are looking for."
Another reason why there is not only high turnover at the position but also little longevity is the raw physical demands playing fullback requires. Consider the plights of two of the NFL's best fullbacks the past five years. Denver's Griffith and Atlanta's Bob Christian were two of the most devastating lead blockers in all of football. Ask people who watched those teams play every week, and they will tell you that Griffith and Christian were the glue to those offenses.
And now both men have been forced to retire from the game early because of major injuries sustained after years of isolating on linebackers and taking mammoth D-linemen -- sometimes 40 or 50 pounds their senior -- head on. Griffith suffered a pinched nerve exiting the spinal column near his neck and was told another direct hit could leave him paralyzed if not properly treated. Doctors told Christian that if he received another concussion, it could not only end his career but also inflict serious head trauma.
"It's scary what we do sometimes," Broncos FB Mike Anderson, a converted tailback who rushed for 1,487 yards with 15 touchdowns his rookie season, said. "When I was lining up as a runner, I would take some pretty good hits. But there is nothing like what fullbacks do when they lead block on a linebacker coming in full speed. It's a train wreck every time."
Trends in the NFL change as often as the wind blows, and it's difficult to foresee an age where the fullback returns to prominence. But could the position ever disappear completely? Most NFL people say no. It's quite a reach to say that fullbacks will be phased out of offenses entirely. Teams always experiment with different formations involving tight ends, backs and receivers, but Accorsi's wish of the split-back formation returning to popularity appears to be a pipedream.
And because of all this, as Richardson points out, a certain selfless attitude will always be a hallmark of being a fullback. "As long as my teammates respect me, then that's all that matters. I don't need to be on the cover of USA Today."
And that day is most certainly gone for good.
Teams favor speed over inside muscle
By Eric Edholm Pro Football Weekly
Chargers RB LaDainian Tomlinson was ecstatic when he heard the news. His team had signed an offensive weapon to open things up and keep swarming defenses from ganging up on him.
David Boston?
No, Tomlinson was thrilled his team had signed FB Lorenzo Neal, the most respected Sherpa at one of the NFL's least appreciated positions. For years, it has been Neal's job to lead fast, young runners through narrow passages between mountainous linemen, and for the past six seasons Neal has guided six consecutive 1,000-yard runners.
"The holes are bigger now," Tomlinson told reporters at the time, with the grin of a Cheshire cat.
Tomlinson is not alone in his exultation. Titans RB Eddie George once said that Neal was one of the main reasons George had his career-best season in 2000. Perhaps people are finally taking notice of what Neal does. Last year, he made his first Pro Bowl as the Bengals' lone representative.
But Neal's signing bonus of $1 million -- a veritable windfall for the position -- paled in comparison to the $4.55 million Boston got three days later.
"It is a dinosaur position," said current Lions RB coach and former 49ers FB Tom Rathman, one of the true stars at the position in the 1980s and '90s. "In the West Coast scheme, under (former 49ers coach) Bill Walsh, fullback was a very important position with a lot of responsibilities. Although fullbacks generally don't look for touches, I was used in a lot of ways. Now, teams primarily line (the fullback) up as a blocker, and that's it."
In part because of its devolution, it is also one of the most underappreciated positions in pro football these days, according to the guys who are asked to block 250-pound linebackers head on dozens of times a game. And in many ways, despite their hard work, the fullback is going the way of the Wing-T and the leather helmet. Even though fullbacks are not likely to disappear any time soon, they are no longer vital pieces on championship teams. And they certainly don't run the ball anymore.
"Most fullbacks ran the ball in college," Neal said. "I am a strong believer in myself that on 3rd-and-1 or 3rd-and-2, I am going to get the first down. I like my chances (to get the first down) 90 percent of the time. But teams don't call our number very often."
Bronko Nagurski and Ernie Nevers were the first stars at the position, followed by Clarke Hinkle and Jim Taylor. Even Jim Brown was considered a fullback when teams of the day lined up in the split-back alignment most of the time. There are nine true fullbacks in the Hall of Fame, the most recent of which is Larry Csonka; it's safe money to bet that Csonka will be the last.
"I am a self-confessed purist and probably a dinosaur," says Giants general manager Ernie Accorsi, also a historian of the pro game, "but to me one of the most disappointing developments in pro football has been the disappearance of the fullback -- what I consider a fullback. Those days are gone. I hope they come back. I don't think they ever will because the fullback is a different position now. It's a blocking position.
"(Teams) will flare fullbacks out and throw to them, but you can just see that's not part of their game. Bill Walsh always had a fullback and threw to him, and he was a very big part of the offense. But the I-formation ruined it."
As recently as the 1990s, the position was vital to no fewer than eight out of 10 Super Bowl winners. You could argue that Walsh's 49ers (Rathman and later William Floyd), and the Cowboys (Daryl "Moose" Johnston), Packers (William Henderson) and Broncos (Howard Griffith) all had dominant players at fullback, paving the way for some lethal running attacks.
Then in 1999 the Rams spread the field a great deal of the time, often using three- and four-WR sets, and in the process helped change the face of offensive football these days. Teams such as the Colts and Titans hardly use a fullback now. The fullback has become the ultimate specialist player -- and in some cases, an afterthought. Speed rules, and they are often the first players to go off the field when it's third down or anything longer than five yards to the first-down marker.
"It's a copycat league, and when teams went to the spread formation a lot, everyone did it," Rathman said. "When the Rams and other teams did use a fullback, it was in special packages or for blitz protection. Often times teams will just use a running back or a tight end there - a guy who plays another position."
For many NFL fullbacks, they called another position theirs before making the switch in high school, college or even the pros. Some are converted linebackers or tight ends or oversized running backs. Take Giants FB Jim Finn -- a squatty, 6-0, 240-pound Ivy League-fast runner who is among Penn's all-time leading rushers but is considered slow for tailback in the pros -- who knew his ticket to the NFL would not include lining up as the lead runner.
"I knew my only realistic shot of making it in the NFL was at fullback," Finn said. "(Switching positions) was just something I knew I had to do if I was going to make it. There was no deciding - that's just the way it was going to be."
Kansas City's Tony Richardson, a heralded high school tailback, got the bad news when he got to Auburn: He'd be sitting behind James Bostic and Stephen Davis. Fullback was his best option. After going undrafted and spending some time on the Cowboys' practice squad, the Chiefs picked him up, and he faced the same kind of situation: be a role player or hit the road.
"When I came into the league I got the chance to block in front of Marcus Allen, and I maybe didn't realize it at the time, but that was an honor -- a part of history. I decided to perfect my blocking and take a lot of pride in what I do. Now, I try to do what the team asks of me: line up here and there and lay blocks and do whatever it takes to win, even if it's not all about catching and running with the ball."
"It's changed a great deal," Chiefs general manager Carl Peterson said. "We have that position move a lot. That's why it's called many times an H-back, a moving back. The days of a big, burly fullback in an I-formation that's going to block a linebacker or a defensive end or whatever are not here to any great degree any longer."
Others such as Miami's Rob Konrad and Philadelphia's Jon Ritchie certainly have the ability to do more than just block, but they realize that their versatility does not guarantee that they will get the ball very much.
"When I was first here, I barely touched the ball - even less than I do now," said Konrad, who ran the ball a great deal at Syracuse. "It was just the offense we ran under (then-Miami offensive coordinator) Kippy Brown, the old Bruce Coslet system where fullbacks are only blockers. Now under Norv Turner, there's a lot more for me to do."
Said Ritchie, who left the Raiders to sign with the Eagles in the offseason: "I know I was brought here to block. And it's 90 percent of what teams are looking for in a fullback. Sure, some guys can take a handoff or catch a pass here or there, but let's face it: We are here to block for the faster backs. Why, when (they) have faster guys behind me, would they give me the ball?"
A recent development manifested this offseason when several fullbacks, including Neal and Ritchie, changed teams. No fewer than 13 teams had new starting fullbacks in Week One from the year before.
"I think some teams do have the sense of, 'We can go out and sign any free agent to play (fullback),' " Steelers FB Dan Kreider, regarded as one of the best run blockers in the game, said. "I have been lucky to be in Pittsburgh the past four years."
A pro scout broke down the duties of a fullback as such: 85 percent of is blocking; 10 percent is receiving; five -- and that might be generous -- is running with the ball. Consider that Ritchie has not taken a handoff in a regular-season game since 1999. Kreider, who had six rushing attempts all last season, was surprised at his production in Week Three's win over Cincinnati: three carries for 13 yards.
"A reporter was joking with me, saying I did half a season's worth of work in one game," Kreider said. "I guess my next (handoff) won't be until November. But that's fine with me. We have the guys here to carry the ball."
Lions FB Cory Schlesinger shares Kreider's unselfish attitude: "I am not whispering in the coaches' ears or anything, 'Give me the ball.' But if I do see a situation where I think I can help in that regard, I will tell the coaches. I trust them to make the play calls, and I just have to be ready the next time I get the football."
Even though blocking is such a major part of the position, specialist receivers such as Dallas' Richie Anderson and New England's Larry Centers -- who says he is the "best ever at the position" -- have carved out niches and made careers the past decade out of being hybrid pass catchers. Sometimes players like Anderson and Johnson create major problems for opponents' defenses.
"Let's not forget that the player those great Ravens defenses of a few years ago struggled the most with was Richie Anderson," said Johnston, now a TV analyst for Fox. "He presented real problems for them, and there is a place for that kind of player."
Although there is a good share of more diverse fullbacks such as Centers who catch the ball as well as anything else they do, there is evidence that teams still value the barreling lead-blocker types -- and Centers' offseason is a case in point. This summer, the Bills let Centers go in favor of Sam Gash, one of the league's most physical run blockers. Even though Centers was a valuable part of the passing offense, they wanted to establish the power running game behind Gash.
"There's something to be said about a guy like Lorenzo Neal or Gash who can isolate, go one-on-one with a 290-pound defensive end," Johnston said. "That is very rare. Your average fullback is not asked to do that. They get help. But it changes the designs of your plays when you have a guy like that who can hold his own on an island."
Jumbo-sized Cardinals FB James Hodgins, thought by many to be a de facto tackle-eligible at 271 pounds who lines up in the backfield and wears a running back's number, thinks that the position gets a bad rap as simply blockers but is resigned to the fact that it's what they are mainly asked to do.
"You are paid to do a certain thing, which is blocking, but that doesn't mean we can't catch the ball or run with it. It's just what the teams want that matters, and I am just as happy doing that as I am getting the ball. It makes no difference to me," Hodgins said.
There are signs, however slim, that some innovative coaches might be willing to use the fullback as a "secret weapon" to catch snoozing defenses off-guard. Hodgins, for instance, caught the game-winning TD pass against the Packers two weeks ago when the defense was thinking run on second-and-goal. The Giants caught the Redskins napping in overtime the same day when they threw an outlet pass to Finn. Pro Bowl LB LaVar Arrington was supposed to cover Finn on the play, who rumbled 27 yards down the sideline, setting up PK Matt Bryant's game-winning field goal.
And when Jaguars FB Marc Edwards scored on a two-yard blast in Week 1 against the Panthers, you can't really blame Carolina defensive coordinator Mike Trgovac for not protecting against the play better: Edwards' TD run was the first by a Jacksonville fullback since 1998 because former coach Tom Coughlin barely, if ever, used the position, much less to run the ball.
Tampa Bay's Mike Alstott is as close to a superstar, or at least a household name, as the position has seen over the past decade. He has run for 4,606 yards with 47 touchdowns in his eight-year career and is seen as the premier runner at his position.
Of course, that's not entirely true if you ask some who view Alstott as a spurious member of the fullback fraternity.
Most football experts -- not the people who vote for Pro Bowl positions, evidently -- know that Alstott lines up mostly in a one-back, two-TE set, also called an "ace formation," mislabeling him as a true fullback. He is not your traditional, sock-'em-in-the-mouth blocker by any means.
"Let's get one thing straight," said Johnston, "Mike Alstott is not a fullback. He is a three-quarters back - not a halfback, not a tailback."
Alstott has been the NFC's Pro Bowl representative the past five years, but there are some who say he does not deserve the honor in the same way that, say, Richardson or San Francisco FB Fred Beasley -- "true" fullbacks -- do. Beasley, for his part, is used to being snubbed at this thankless position.
"I know that I am not going to get the ball 15, even 10 times each game," Beasley said. "I know that. But if they do call on me, I am ready. I am a little fortunate that I get to touch the football a little more than (other fullbacks), but I look at my job as the big picture. There are a lot of other things I have to do besides run with the ball, like hitting. I love hitting. This is a hard position, and people don't always realize it."
If the position is to see a revival in terms of touching the football, it will be with a player like Alstott, who carries the ball more than once or twice a game, if at all. And Accorsi thinks that player also would have to benefit from more offensive creativity - or nostalgia, perhaps - on the part of offensive coordinators.
"I am no coach, but if somebody was innovative enough, it could happen," Accorsi said. "Say there was another Roger Craig coming out now - and he wasn't a tailback, he was the fullback. If the coach was creative enough to use a Brown and Red formation, split the backs, and (the fullback) is going to be my big back, and he's going to run the ball. & I think that it would change it."
Johnston envisions another way more versatile fullbacks could affect the way the position is used: "When you talk to defensive coordinators, the thing they worry about the most is when teams send in a certain personnel group - one tight end, two backs, let's say - and open it up from there. That scares them. If you see three wideouts come onto the field in a substitution, they send out their nickel package. But if you could find a (fullback) who was versatile enough to line up in the slot or move around the way tight ends do, then you've got something."
There's another reason why the position hasn't really produced a household name in a while: Young players don't want to play second fiddle, and so few players are groomed to be fullbacks from the first time they strap on a helmet. Two-way fullbacks in high school are usually future linebackers if they go on to play college ball. Plus, in today's NFL, statistics are everything: your contract value, your star power and your marketability. It's also an ego blow. Not surprisingly, fullbacks are also among the NFL's worst-paid players.
"It really was tough (to accept being a blocker full time)," Neal said. "I was talking to my father about it. As a rookie I was running the ball a lot, but then I broke my ankle. The next year I came back, I was a blocker. He said, 'Look, whatever they ask you to do, you do it and be the best at it.'
"And I just took that approach. I knew this is what they were going to have me do. A lot of guys could still be in this league if they adjusted, and their perception (of what kind of players they are) is something else."
Said Accorsi: "We have told (college players) in the past, 'We are interested in you as a fullback,' and they say, 'Oh no.' They know they are not going to be carrying the ball. They are going to be sacrificed up there. It's just too bad more kids don't take advantage of playing the position, and it's too bad they don't have more respect for what fullbacks do."
In Pro Football Weekly's 2003-2004 Pro Prospects Preview, the top-rated fullback is Arizona State's Mike Karney, who grades out to a fifth- or sixth-round pick in next year's draft. Of the 262 players selected in last April's draft, fewer than 10 are considered to be pure fullbacks; the highest one picked, Michigan's B.J. Askew, who was taken by the Jets in the third round, was considered a reach by many. And many don't even consider Askew, mainly a pass catcher in college, to be a true blocking back.
"There are not many guys on the college level who fit what teams are looking for many times," said an NFC West scout. "Sometimes you will see a college tight end or a running back, and you might say, 'He looks like a fullback possibility.' Of course, it's easier to take a kid who has made those blocks and lined up three yards behind the quarterback, but very few fit what (NFL teams) are looking for."
Another reason why there is not only high turnover at the position but also little longevity is the raw physical demands playing fullback requires. Consider the plights of two of the NFL's best fullbacks the past five years. Denver's Griffith and Atlanta's Bob Christian were two of the most devastating lead blockers in all of football. Ask people who watched those teams play every week, and they will tell you that Griffith and Christian were the glue to those offenses.
And now both men have been forced to retire from the game early because of major injuries sustained after years of isolating on linebackers and taking mammoth D-linemen -- sometimes 40 or 50 pounds their senior -- head on. Griffith suffered a pinched nerve exiting the spinal column near his neck and was told another direct hit could leave him paralyzed if not properly treated. Doctors told Christian that if he received another concussion, it could not only end his career but also inflict serious head trauma.
"It's scary what we do sometimes," Broncos FB Mike Anderson, a converted tailback who rushed for 1,487 yards with 15 touchdowns his rookie season, said. "When I was lining up as a runner, I would take some pretty good hits. But there is nothing like what fullbacks do when they lead block on a linebacker coming in full speed. It's a train wreck every time."
Trends in the NFL change as often as the wind blows, and it's difficult to foresee an age where the fullback returns to prominence. But could the position ever disappear completely? Most NFL people say no. It's quite a reach to say that fullbacks will be phased out of offenses entirely. Teams always experiment with different formations involving tight ends, backs and receivers, but Accorsi's wish of the split-back formation returning to popularity appears to be a pipedream.
And because of all this, as Richardson points out, a certain selfless attitude will always be a hallmark of being a fullback. "As long as my teammates respect me, then that's all that matters. I don't need to be on the cover of USA Today."
And that day is most certainly gone for good.
