What Happened to Ezekiel Elliott?

He didn't suddenly forget how to run the football. The very qualities that made Zeke great may also help explain why greatness disappeared so quickly.

There was a time when Ezekiel Elliott getting through the line of scrimmage felt like the beginning of a problem for somebody else.

A linebacker had to tackle him. A safety had to decide how badly he really wanted to. And occasionally, a defensive back discovered that his job description had suddenly become trying to catch No. 21 from behind.

That was Ezekiel Elliott in 2016.

Young. Explosive. Powerful.

Behind one of football's best offensive lines, Elliott rushed for 1,631 yards and 15 touchdowns as a rookie, averaging 5.1 yards per carry. He led the NFL in rushing and finished third in MVP voting.

He was 21 years old. Dallas appeared to have found its running back for the next decade.

Technically, it almost did.

The problem was that the Ezekiel Elliott of the next decade wasn't always going to be the Ezekiel Elliott of 2016.

And perhaps we should have seen that coming.

Zeke Didn't Run Around People

He ran through them.

That distinction is important.

Elliott had speed when he entered the NFL—real breakaway speed—but his game was never built around avoiding contact. It was built around surviving it.

He lowered his shoulder. Finished runs. Picked up blitzes. Fought for another yard when another yard probably wasn't available.

And then Dallas handed him the football again.

In his rookie season alone, Elliott carried it 322 times. In 2018, he carried it 304 times. In 2019, another 301.

By the end of his fourth NFL season, Elliott had already accumulated 1,169 regular-season rushing attempts.

And that doesn't count receptions. Or playoff carries. Or pass protection. Or all the collisions that don't appear anywhere in a box score.

Dallas had found a workhorse.

So Dallas worked him.

The Strange Thing About Running Back Age

Quarterbacks can evolve. A quarterback loses a little mobility and learns to win from the pocket. A receiver loses half a step and becomes a better route runner.

A great running back can compensate too.

But there are certain things the position doesn't negotiate particularly well: acceleration, change of direction, the ability to turn a small crease into a large gain—and perhaps most importantly, the ability to make the first defender wrong.

That's where Elliott's decline became noticeable.

He could still get the tough yards. He could still fall forward. He remained an excellent pass protector. Put the football near the goal line and he could still find his way into the end zone.

What increasingly disappeared was the possibility that an ordinary run might suddenly become something extraordinary.

The 2016 version of Elliott had 14 runs of 20 yards or more. By 2020, he had three. In 2021, three. By 2024, zero.

That's not a running back forgetting how to play.

That's a running back losing the margin that once made him special.

Then Came the Knee

In Week 4 of the 2021 season, Elliott injured his right knee.

He kept playing.

Only after the season did we learn exactly what he'd been playing through: a partially torn PCL.

He still played all 17 regular-season games and finished with 1,002 rushing yards and 10 touchdowns.

There is something admirable about that. There may also have been a cost.

It would be too simplistic to say the PCL injury caused Elliott's decline. His efficiency had already begun falling from his early-career peak, and running-back performance is affected by blocking, scheme, game situation and plenty of other variables.

But the injury arrived at precisely the stage of his career when accumulated workload was already becoming significant.

The player who had spent years proving how much punishment he could absorb eventually began showing signs that he had absorbed quite a lot of it.

Tony Pollard Made the Difference Easier to See

Then another problem appeared.

Tony Pollard.

Not because Pollard did anything wrong. Quite the opposite.

Pollard gave Dallas something Elliott increasingly couldn't: explosion.

Elliott still had value. He was dependable, physical, excellent near the goal line and trusted in pass protection.

But watching the two backs in the same offense made the difference increasingly difficult to ignore.

One was still capable of doing the hard things.

The other increasingly offered the possibility of doing something spectacular.

By 2022, the transition was unmistakable. Elliott rushed 231 times for 876 yards—3.8 per carry. He still scored 12 touchdowns, but Pollard had become the more explosive offensive weapon.

Dallas no longer needed Elliott to be the offense.

Unfortunately, it was still paying him as though he might be.

The Contract Changed the Conversation

This is where Ezekiel Elliott the football player became entangled with Ezekiel Elliott the contract.

After his 2019 holdout, Dallas gave him a six-year extension reportedly worth $90 million.

At the time, Elliott was still one of football's premier running backs.

But running-back contracts have an unpleasant habit of paying for what a player has already done while assuming his body will continue doing it.

That doesn't mean he stopped trying. It doesn't mean he was lazy. And it certainly doesn't mean the contract caused his legs to slow down.

But the contract changed expectations.

A useful veteran running back can grind out difficult yards, score short-yardage touchdowns and protect his quarterback.

A highly paid franchise centerpiece is expected to do considerably more.

As Elliott's role diminished, the gap between what Zeke still was and what Dallas was paying him to be became impossible to ignore.

After the 2022 season, the Cowboys released him.

New England Confirmed What Dallas Already Knew

Sometimes a player leaves a team and suddenly looks reborn.

Elliott went to New England in 2023.

There were useful moments. He caught 51 passes, handled difficult carries and remained a professional running back capable of contributing.

But the old explosiveness didn't return.

Elliott rushed 184 times for 642 yards: 3.5 yards per carry. His longest run of the season was 17 yards.

Different offensive line. Different system. Different team.

Similar result.

The decline was no longer simply a Dallas problem.

It was the reality of where Elliott was in his career.

Then Dallas Tried One More Time

There was something almost sentimental about Elliott returning to the Cowboys in 2024.

Zeke wearing No. 15 looked strange.

Zeke wearing the Star didn't.

But nostalgia cannot restore burst.

He carried the football 74 times for 226 yards—3.1 yards per carry. His longest run was 11 yards.

Rico Dowdle eventually became Dallas' primary back and surpassed 1,000 rushing yards.

With the Cowboys eliminated from playoff contention, Dallas released Elliott at the end of December at his request, allowing him to pursue an opportunity with a playoff team.

By then, the transformation was complete.

Ezekiel Elliott hadn't simply gone from superstar to ordinary.

He had gone from being the centerpiece of an offense to fighting for a place in one.

And it seemed to happen remarkably fast.

So What Actually Happened?

There probably isn't one answer.

There are several.

Workload. Dallas gave Elliott the ball relentlessly during the years when he was at his best.

Running style. He didn't preserve himself by avoiding collisions. Punishing defenders was part of what made him Zeke.

Loss of explosiveness. The long runs gradually disappeared, meaning more carries ended where the blocking ended.

Injury. The partially torn PCL in 2021 didn't create the entire decline, but it certainly didn't help a running back already carrying years of heavy mileage.

Position. Running back remains one of football's most physically unforgiving jobs. The difference between elite and replaceable can be a fraction of a second.

And finally: time.

Not chronological age so much as football age.

A running back can still be young by the calendar and old by the workload. Elliott accumulated 1,169 regular-season carries in his first four years alone. For a player whose style invited contact, those weren't just touches.

They were mileage.

The Cruel Part Is That Zeke Did What Dallas Asked

This may be the most interesting part of his story.

The Cowboys didn't draft Ezekiel Elliott fourth overall in 2016 and ask him to preserve himself for 2024.

They asked him to win football games.

So he carried the ball 322 times as a rookie. He ran through contact. He blocked blitzing linebackers. He played hurt. He converted third-and-short. He scored touchdowns. He took punishment so Dak Prescott didn't have to.

And he helped Dallas win.

In four of his first six seasons, Elliott topped 1,000 rushing yards, despite playing only 10 games during his suspension-shortened 2017 season. He came within 21 yards in 2020.

Maybe the surprising thing isn't that he declined so quickly.

Maybe it's how much football Dallas managed to get out of him before he did.

Legacy Reflection

Today's Story: Ezekiel Elliott's rapid decline can look mysterious when we remember the 21-year-old rookie exploding through defenses in 2016.

Historical Echo: Cowboys history has featured extraordinary running backs before him—from Tony Dorsett to Emmitt Smith—but Elliott's career arrived in a different NFL, one increasingly reluctant to build offenses and long-term contracts around high-mileage running backs.

Why It Matters: Zeke's story is a reminder that a player's greatest strength can sometimes contribute to his eventual decline.

Elliott became a Cowboys star because he was durable, physical, dependable and willing to absorb punishment.

Dallas leaned on those qualities heavily.

Eventually, the bill arrived.

But decline shouldn't rewrite what came before it.

Elliott finished his 2024 Dallas stint with 8,488 rushing yards as a Cowboy, third in franchise history behind Emmitt Smith and Tony Dorsett.

For several years, he wasn't merely a good Cowboys running back.

He was one of the best running backs in football.

The ending came faster than anyone expected.

Maybe that's because Zeke spent the beginning of his career running as though there wouldn't be one.

By Julian Vance

Editorial Voice, The Doomsday Legacy