Wither Without You?

Losing Westbrook hasn't hurt at all.

by E. James Beale

As Philadelphia Eagles running back Brian Westbrook decides whether he should play football again — he's apparently leaning toward yes; as of press time, Westbrook appears set to return to action Sunday — nearly all of the talk is focused on the risk.

Westbrook is trying to come back from a head injury. And thanks to a rash of high-profile examples, an extensive New Yorker profile on the subject, Will Carroll's constant hand-wringing and an army of op-ed enforcers demanding increased player protection, head injuries are big news. Westbrook, a former All-Pro and the victim of two concussions this year, has become the poster child for this news. He admitted being "very worried" about his career in an HBO interview, and steered the discussion toward his mental state decades down the road. He's consulted doctor after doctor, hoping to consume as much information as possible, a process that has been chronicled in excruciating detail in both The Philadelphia Inquirer and the Daily News.

The risk has been covered. What hasn't been talked about is the reward: On the field, how much is this decision going to mean?

On the surface, a lot. Brian Westbrook is one of the most prolific Eagles of all time. His name peppers the Eagles' record books, his game is suited for Andy Reid's system, and his No. 36 jersey fills half the Linc on Sundays. He's an icon. His backups — a fullback and a rookie — are not.

Not that you would know that from their production. Leonard Weaver and Shady McCoy, the fullback and rookie in question, have been Westbrook-esque. This year, 36 has averaged 4.8 yards per carry and 8.2 yards per catch. McCoy and Weaver? Collectively, 4.4 and 8.0. Through 14 games, the Birds are 3-3 in games in which Westbrook plays, and 6-1 when he doesn't. Losing Westbrook hasn't hurt the Birds at all.

No surprise there: Brian Westbrook is a running back, and in the NFL, running backs don't matter.

Aaron Schatz, president of Football Outsiders and the point man for this type of statistical analysis, calls it the "Mike Shanahan corollary," after the former Broncos head coach who produced five different 1,000-yard rushers in one eight-year stretch. The corollary isn't about just one coach, though; it's the whole league. Over the last three seasons, eight featured running backs have gone down to injury, and in each case their understudies have actually outperformed them. If anything, you should be surprised Weaver and McCoy have been so unproductive.

In a lot of ways, this makes sense. Most carries are much more about the offensive line than they are the RBs. If your offensive line gets a 5-yard push, the back gets 5 yards. If the line gets you 2, he'll get 2. Lest you think I'm cherry-picking data, consider this: Adrian Peterson, the consensus best tailback in football, averages 4.5 yards per carry. The combined average of every other Viking to take a handoff? 4.4.

The passing game matters to running backs' productivity, too, as defenses who have to stop Peyton Manning defend differently than those who have to stop Keith Null. "In fact," as Schatz points out, "an injury to a QB hurts the running game more than an injury to a running back does." It probably isn't coincidence that Eagles backs got a full yard less per carry during the two games Kevin Kolb played than they do behind McNabb.

Mike Lombardi, the former NFL GM and current editor of nationalfootballpost.com, has yet another theory: The backups are fresh. After a couple of months of 280-pound guys trying to get your shoulders to touch, even the most powerful of backs wear down. More hits equals less burst, and when the starters finally miss a few games their backups are able to come in with strong legs. "Same reason the lifespan of a running back is only four, five, six years," Lombardi explains.

Whatever the reason, the phenomenon exists.

At the end of the day, if Brian Westbrook believes he can come back, he should have every right to continue to earn a living. He knows the risks, and if he doesn't want to stop his professional career at 30, no one else should make him. Still, unless Westbrook pulls a Vince Howard and starts tossing the ball from the tailback position, he probably shouldn't. Not just because of the tremendous risk to him, but also because of the miniscule reward his return offers his team.

E. James Beale hasn't let the concussions slow him down. E-mail him at e.james.beale@citypaper.net.