abomb said:
I assume you are talking about Hodgins. Please add to my football knowledge and break down what a fullback could be used for.
Thanks man.
A-Bomb
Here ya go
Football's forgotten position: fullback once was the backbone of the running game—but not anymore. What's happened to one of sports' most treasured blue-collar occupations?
LORENZO NEAL IS ONE OF THE best fullbacks in the NFL. Wherever he goes, 1,000-yard rushers follow. Literally.
While on the Tennessee Titans, Neal paved the way for Eddige George's 1,304-yard, nine-touchdown campaign in 1999 and his career-best 1,509 yards and 14 touchdowns in 2000. With the Cincinnati Bengals, Neal helped Corey Dillon rush for a total of 2,636 and 17 touchdowns in 2001 and '02.
The year after Neal left Tennessee, George failed to gain 1,000 yards for the first time in his career. He averaged a career-low 3.0 and 3.4 yards per carry the past two seasons. Some Bengals fans fear a similar fate awaits Dillon.
"Amazing" is the word San Diego Chargers tailback LaDainian Tomlinson uses to describe his new teammate. "He's one of those guys who understands what he's here for. There's no shame in his game. He's going to bring it."
Oh, yes, Neal brings it. But as the 5'11", 245-pounder discovered this past offseason, there are fewer places for NFL fullbacks to bring it to. Not long ago, just about every NFL team carried two fullbacks. Now teams carry one. Some carry none.
Worse, fullbacks have devolved into one-dimensional blockers who may only see action on one-fifth of a team's snaps--and they're lucky to touch the ball at all. In the businesslike parlance of the NFL fullbacks have become "specialty players." So widespread is the demise of the fullback that former Dallas Cowboys personnel director Gil Brandt has labeled the position "virtually nonexistent."
It's a shame, too. It's a shame because the fans suffer as the league homogenizes into one indiscernible parity-filled blob.
Before the great parity push in the mid-1990s, back when teams with different payrolls employed a variety of offenses and active fullbacks were more common, one of the great unwritten rules in football was, "Fans in every city will always love their fullback."
It was a fact of football life, like having a foreign-born kicker on the roster whose name could only be pronounced with a slide-whistle. The fullback was a beloved player. And he still is in the places where he remains active, such as Detroit.
Blue-collar fans are universally drawn to the position. Not to get all George Will on you, but the fullback, on an abstract level, represents the American Dream in action. You work hard (block anonymously for 90 yards) and you will be rewarded (a one-yard plunge into the endzone.) Work and reward. Community and rugged individualism. All the things that make America great.
Now every team has to deal with the same salary cap and small roster. As general managers have discovered, you get more bang for your offensive buck from the spread offense, which features one or no backs and multiple receivers. Just like that, the fullback fades from significance, still present but no longer an integral part of the game.
For this we can thank parity.
Well, parity and Joe Gibbs.
While Gibbs did not invent the spread offense--indeed, coaches such as Tom Lanciry ran multiple-receiver sets long before Gibbs began coaching the Washington Redskins in 1981--the three-time Super Bowl champion certainly popularized the formation. If Joe Gibbs were a Hollywood producer, he would be the creator of the first successful reality television show from which all others were copied, "Survivor."
Using a mobile H-back instead of a fullback--and various receiver alignments--Gibbs' system created advantageous mismatches. He not only won, but he also proved you could run the ball just as effectively out of the spread, as evidenced by the superlative Super Bowl performances turned in by Hall-of-Famer John Riggins and unknown Timmy Smith.
"That's where it all started," says former Cowboys fullback Daryl "Moose" Johnston, now a commentator with Fox. "Joe Gibbs did a great job blending the system to match his personnel. He had these gigantic light ends. No one could match up with them. And they won championships."
As systems go, the spread offense is smart, Brandt says. Take the Pittsburgh Steelers. "Who would you rather have on the field helping you score a touchdown? [Running back] Dan Kreider or [wide receiver] Antwaan Randle El?" Brandt says. "I want my best 11 on the field, and to do that, you have to play guys who can do it all and who can score."
Thanks to Gibbs, Kreider gets voted off the island.
Ah, but there was a time when the island was ruled by savage, brutish fullbacks.
In the 1920s and B0s, players who could rush the middle and block dominated. Men like Ernie Nevers and Bronko Nagurski carried their respective offenses headfirst into the defensive line, play after grueling play. They were followed by Marion Motley, who would alternately bruise as a blocker and then excel as a rusher in Paul Brown's legendary trap series. Motley was followed by Jim Taylor, who was followed by Larry Csonka, both of whom were excellent rushers but were nonetheless fullbacks called upon to block for Paul Hornung and Mercury Morris, respectively.
Innovations in the passing game and the introduction of hash marks changed everything, stretching the field horizontally and vertically. And, of course, Gibbs contributed to the revolution.
While the original West Coast offense offered a brief respite for fullbacks--as evidenced by the emergence of the San Francisco 49ers'Tom Rathman as a do-it-all player--few coaches today effectively utilize their fullback the way Bill Walsh did. What we are left with are fullbacks whose main role today is to block and little else. (Mike Alstott is an exception. But even he does not call himself a fullback, no matter what Pro Bowl voters and Lorenzo Neal say.)
"Besides Mike Alstott, there is no fullback in this league that they really give the ball to," Neal says. "Go around the league and look at the fullbacks' track records in college. I was a 1,000-yard rusher.
"It's not that I have not done it. It's just that you have these offenses and they have a feature guy, so let's feature him and we'll give the fullback a bone every now and then. You look at it as, hey, they do it because they want to optimize their opportunities, giving the ball to a person who is known for breakaways. I have no hard feelings."
How far has this once-dominant position fallen? No fullback has been drafted in the first round since 1994, when the 49ers selected William Floyd with the 28th pick.
Csonka, who retired in 1979, is the last fullback to be inducted into the Pro Foothall Hall of Fame. Like fellow Hall of Fame fullbacks John Henry Johnson and Joe Perry, Csonka played a hybrid of fullback and feature back. (Jim Brown is listed in the Hall of Fame as a fullback, though he is more accurately a running back who earned the fullback designation simply because of his size.)
Also, no blocking fullback has ever been voted into the Hall of Fame. Pro Football Hall of Fame vice president of communications Joe Horrigan compares the plight of the fullback to that of the anonymous blocking right end.
"Names change and roles change," Horrigan says. "Because of the changing nature of backfield alignments, there are fewer name fullbacks to consider."
But don't give up on the fullback yet. In some corners, he is still important still a fan favorite. And he just might make a comeback.
Johnston, a two-time Pro Bowler, is encouraged by officials' pledge to crack down on defensive holding at the line of scrimmage this season. He hopes it opens up file rushing game.
"It will come back," Johnston says. "The game always goes in cycles. You know how this league works. If a team that uses its fullback wins the Super Bowl and brings it back to the spotlight, then everyone will copy."
He may be right. Some copycatting has already begun. Almost half of the NFL's fullbacks signed long-term contracts0 past offseason. Though the position is no longer a major priority, teams are realizing the value that players such as Neal and the 49ers' Fred Beasley bring to the running and passing game.
Neal says the other way the game can change is if players make the most of their opportunities. "I line up at wide receiver sometimes," he says. "I have never before in my career been in an offense where the fullback moves as much as this one [in San Diego] does. At first I was like, 'What the heck? Why are we asking the fullback, when I've been known as a banger, to do all these things?"
"But this is who I want to be. I've been labeled as one-dimensional. Can block. Can't catch. Can't run. This offense gives you opportunities as a fullback to make some plays. I like it."
Let's hope he succeeds.
Nothing less than the American way of life is at stake.
RELATED ARTICLE: The best of what's left.
YES, THE FULLBACK POSITJON HAS DIMINished in importance the past three decades. Some teams, such as the Cleveland Browns, don't employ a classic fullback. Others, such as the Oakland Raiders, often utilize one-back sets.
That said, the position still boasts some of the fiercest and most physical players in the game. Here are some of the best:
Mike Alstott, Tampa Bay Buccaneers, He's made six straight Pro Bowls as a fullback, despite his claims that he does not play the fullback position.
James Hodgins, Arizona Cardinals. A superlative blocker who also runs well in short-yardage situations. The perfect fullback.(Ok I edited this)
Sam Gash, Buffalo Bills. A great blocker and a good receiver who paved the way for Jamal Lewis during the Baltimore Ravens' 2000 Super Bowl season.
Lorenzo Neal, San Diego Chargers. A devastating blocker who could put LaDainian Tomlinson in the 2,000-yard club.
Cory Schlesinger, Detroit Lions, This talented back figures to truly blossom under Steve Mariucci the way Beasley did in San Francisco.
