Derrick Henry is the simple, violent joy of football personified

Derrick Henry is approximately eight feet, one billion pounds of pure, undiluted, kinetic joy. He’s the player whose proportions we’re all going to exaggerate when we talk about him as octogenarians. It takes no great knowledge of analytics or the intricacies of position football to understand why he’s so good.

And watching him deliver on the expectations that his frame sets just feels so satisfying. Like popping a sheet of plastic wrap. A big, warm bubble bath for your lizard brain.

He’s also, in a twisted way, the reason why so many people often hate their favorite team’s head coach. The idea that a good offense should be predicated on the running game still persists, no matter how often passing the ball is proven to be more efficient. The reason it hasn’t been extinguished is that a coach’s job is so much easier when the running game works. Passing games need to be complexly designed and responsive. There are a lot of moving parts, and the ball just seems so vulnerable when it’s up in the air, wobbling about.

A good running game requires less thinking. Keep handing the ball off to your running back, snug and secure, for about 10 minutes of game time, and if everything goes well, you’ll have a nice six-point touchdown. No fuss and no muss. Who doesn’t want that?

Except football at the NFL level typically doesn’t work like that anymore. Bellcow running backs are becoming increasingly rare, and those who show promise often can’t maintain it for long. Remember what a can’t-miss prospect Trent Richardson appeared to be when he was drafted No. 3 overall in 2012? Or in another cautionary tale from that year, how Doug Martin ran for more than 1,400 yards as a rookie then largely struggled to stay healthy the rest of his career, only once approaching his first year production? Or yet another: How David Wilson, taken with the last pick of the first round, was only able to appear in two seasons for the Giants before having to retire early due to the danger of recurring neck injuries?

One of the worst things about the NFL is how it can make god-like college players look so mortal, and arguably no position is more affected than running back. Under the tolls of the position, players are exceptional if they can demonstrate their value long enough to earn a second contract before they are summarily dismissed.

Henry is different than a lot of running backs, mind you. To start, there is his sheer size. At a listed 6’3, 247 pounds, he is the biggest running back in the league. The reason why so few backs have that frame is that it isn’t typically conducive to the acceleration, speed, and elusiveness needed to play the position. And yet, Henry is explosive, he can outrun defensive backs, and he finds and slips through tight gaps despite looking like a defensive end.

To that last point, Henry’s power and surprising nimbleness are reflected in the fact that when defenses try to load up to stop him, he just bowls them over anyway. He finished the regular season with more yards after contact (973) than anyone, and was third with 29 broken tackles. He’s even more effective against eight-man boxes than he is against seven-man boxes, according to ESPN’s Matt Bowen.

Unfortunately for Henry, we’ve seen running backs crash to Earth after extraordinary seasons before. Todd Gurley is a good example of one who burned hot, averaging nearly five yards per carry in three of his first four seasons, then went ice cold after a 2018 knee injury that may have been more serious than either he or Rams head coach Sean McVay have been willing to say. This season, Gurley averaged just 3.8 yards per carry.

Who knows what might take down Henry one day; playing until failure is sadly the norm in the NFL. But right now, a Titans offense predicated on Henry’s superhuman-ness is being rewarded. As SB Nation’s Christian D’Andrea points out, Henry ranked 12th in the league in rushing during the team’s 2-4 start, then gradually climbed the rankings as the Titans proceeded to win seven of their last 10 games. He ran for 211 yards in the regular season finale to win the league’s rushing title, and became the first player to rush for 180-plus in three straight games after he put up 182 and 195 yards against the Patriots and Ravens, respectively, in the playoffs.

Everything that the Titans do works off of Henry. The play fakes, screens, rubs, and QB keeps are only so effective because their mondo-back demands that you over commit to him. And though contemporary philosophy has evolved towards spreading the field to run, the Titans have done the opposite to spring Henry, tightening their formations and adding heft to force undersized defenses to be gap sound. When Henry breaks through an encroaching defense’s first line, he’s frequently gone.

Watch as Ravens linebackers get sucked towards the line of scrimmage, only for Henry to blow right by them.

That’s the good stuff — the casual bounce off a defensive end’s attempt to wrap up, the dismissive “sit down” stiff arm on a tired linebacker who had committed way too early, then the upright sprint past the secondary that emphasizes just how special Henry is even on a field comprised of some of the best athletes on the planet.

I don’t know how long the Titans can succeed like this, winning in a way that bucks accepted wisdom. It’s not even clear that the Titans are playing an optimal offensive strategy now, even as Henry puts up gaudy numbers. The offense contributed just 14 points and 272 total yards to the effort against the Patriots, for example, with the defense adding a pick-six. And against the Ravens, the Titans only had one scoring drive longer than 45 yards.

But let’s ignore the caveats for the moment. No matter what happens Sunday in the AFC Championship Game against the Chiefs, the Titans have delivered two of the most satisfying wins of the season by executing the platonic ideal of smashmouth football, behind a player who has a legitimate claim to being the most physically talented running back in the history of the game.

Henry is playing football at its id-satisfying best. Don’t worry about how he got here, or how long it lasts. Just bask in it.