CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Browns running back Nick Chubb ranks fifth on The 40 Most Influential People in Cleveland Sports, our ranking of the people who currently wield the most influence over Cleveland's sports happiness.
In this series, we are picking the top 40 athletes, front office personnel, owners, and even those who work on the periphery of sports, to see who does the most to shape the happiness of Cleveland sports fans.
Next up, the heart and soul of the Browns.
His calling sign shines over Huntington Bank Field like Bruce Wayne's emblem. But Nick Chubb doesn't need a mask or a Batmobile to save the city. Only a football and the slightest blocking crease.
Browns fans sounded their Chubb signals for 399 days after the running back suffered a gruesome knee injury in Pittsburgh last season. And now that he's back, Cleveland's all-time leader in yards per carry (minimum 500 attempts) ranks fifth on our top-40 list. Because when Chubb debuted against the Bengals on Sunday, the Browns legend's story reached a crossroads.
One path cements his status as Cleveland's indestructible hero. The other? Too gloomy to stomach, even for the Dark Knight.
"No one should bet against Nick Chubb" has been a statement of fact for as long as we've watched him run. The first time he wrecked his knee at Georgia, he responded with consecutive 1,000-yard seasons. After a slow start to his rookie season in Cleveland, Chubb ran for 105 yards on three carries during his fourth game. Any time the Browns needed an extra yard over the last six seasons, we all know where Cleveland's money landed, and we all know those tickets cashed.
This time, though, a bet on Chubb is a bet against time and history or, in gambling terms "the house." The house, as Vegas types say, didn't build so many casinos by losing money. At best, age's track record is littered with careers claimed too soon. At worst, Father Time's record is flawless, depending on how you judge its bouts with LeBron James and Tom Brady.
As Chubb approaches 29 years old and 1,500 carries, expecting him to maintain his Pro Bowl production (or anything close) is expecting him to be the James or Brady of running backs. I know 30 is the new 20, but thirty is also the running back's 40. In fact, only 12 ball carriers in league history have averaged 5.2 yards per carry (Chubb's career average) during or after their age 30 season. Only 34 players aged 30 or older have run for 1,000 yards before. And the NFL only harbors so much patience for a player in decline, no matter how much a fanbase loves him.
At the same time, however, football only counts one Chubb. Falling off is for mortal football beings. The rules of aging shouldn't apply to superheroes. And let's be honest, cheering Chubb through the hole makes even the most mature Browns fans believe in comic book characters again.
"Go, go, GO," you scream as Chubb runs through the line of scrimmage, and defenses rarely stop him. Steelers linebackers? Too slow. Ravens defensive backs? Too small. When Chubb hits the second level, he renders defenders like the Joker: fun villains with a doomed scheme. And when he ran for his first touchdown during Sunday's return, fans celebrated like they were 10 years old.
Such a fun age. In the small, stress-free world of childhood, good guys always win. Aging is an abstract concept. No child believes their hero can lose a fight until they see it happen.
But with adulthood comes larger, less happy truths. Good guys lose. Aging is not only real, but it hurts and makes you feel ugly. Only one fighter is undefeated, and it isn't the one from your cartoons.
Few have ever won a bet against Nick Chubb, and fewer still have caught him in the open field. But Chubb is running a different race now, and science tells us he will slow down eventually. The only question is when Father Time, or The House, or a linebacker he'd normally leave in the dust, will catch him.
If Chubb can hold them off another year, his legend continues. Batman is real, the city is saved, childhoods are validated. Short of a deep playoff run, few outcomes could pull as hard on Cleveland's heart strings.
When the finish line finally approaches, however, reality will sting harder. Chubb's powers will be stories you tell. Child-like memories will be shaken. And the city, lacking a hero to fulfill its call, will switch off the signal hovering over its stadium.