Running backs used to own this league. There was a time when the MVP trophy sat in the backfield, belonging to the workhorses who carried teams on their shoulders—Emmitt Smith, Barry Sanders, LaDainian Tomlinson. The last to do it? Adrian Peterson in 2012, when he dragged the Vikings to the playoffs with 2,097 rushing yards, just eight short of the all-time record. Since then? A quarterback monopoly. And in 2025, Saquon Barkley had a chance to shatter that trend.

Barkley wasn’t just good this season—he was historic. 2,005 rushing yards. 5.8 yards per carry. 21 total touchdowns. He did everything. Broke tackles, outran secondaries, caught passes out of the backfield, and kept the Eagles’ offense moving when the passing game stalled. But when the MVP was announced, it wasn’t Barkley’s name. It was Josh Allen’s. Another quarterback. You see the trend, right? Well, hang tight, there’s more.

It’s not that Allen had a bad season—3,731 passing yards, 28 touchdowns, 12 rushing scores. Solid. But that’s just it—it was solid. Not even Championship-level solid. The Bills went from losing in the playoffs last year… to losing in the playoffs this year. Meanwhile, Barkley turned a Philadelphia team that collapsed late in 2023 into an NFC juggernaut. Oh, fudge that! The Birds are soaring above all of the rest in the league with that Lombardi. He was the difference. He was the value.

Eagles legend Brian Westbrook didn’t mince words: “Saquon was so good that he made guys like A.J. Brown, DeVonta Smith, Dallas Goedert, Jalen Hurts not even be mentioned. Those are all Pro Bowl players. They became second thoughts because of how good Saquon was offensively.” And he was right. The Eagles had weapons, but Barkley was the system.

When Peterson won MVP in 2012, he carried a Vikings team with Christian Ponder at quarterback. Sure, Hurts was the SB MVP for a reason. A dual-threat. But even he let his guards down to bow to Saquon, when he said: “You know, we right there, but you [Barkley] like that last piece man.”

But the NFL loves its quarterbacks. The league’s last MVP-winning RBs played in systems that needed them to dominate. Barkley did it on a team full of stars, and instead of recognizing his impact, voters saw it as a reason against him. He wasn’t just fighting defenders—he was fighting perception. The idea that running backs can’t be the best player in football anymore. But Barkley proved that’s nonsense.

And this proved to be a blessing in disguise. Since 2000, seven of the eight MVPs who played in the Super Bowl lost. The only exception? Patrick Mahomes in 2022, and let’s be real—the Chiefs have some kind of a supernatural deal with the football gods. The Eagles? They don’t. So, they couldn’t afford to have that curse hanging over Barkley’s head before they faced KC for revenge. And boy, the curse got broken in some style.

Guess what? Mahomes couldn’t do the #15 thing he’s used to doing on the big stage. The Birds’ #1 walked away with the SB MVP. Philly 40, Kansas City 22. Game over. For Barkley? Mic drop. So, no, he won’t take home the MVP. But he still got the last laugh. Let’s bow down, for he’s the KING in his zone.

Saquon Barkley is people’s champ

Super Bowl parades are usually about the stars—MVPs, coaches, the guys who made the big plays. But for Saquon Barkley? It was about everyone. The Eagles’ newly crowned champion wasn’t just waving to the crowd; he was making sure the whole team—every last person who played a part—got their moment.

And when he spotted a ball boy in the crowd? He didn’t just stop for a handshake. He pulled him into the parade. Because in Barkley’s world, if you’re part of the grind, you’re part of the glory. The moment hit social media like a perfectly timed stiff-arm. Fans went wild. This wasn’t just a celebration—it was a statement. Barkley wasn’t some mercenary signing a contract and collecting a ring. He was Philly. He saw the people behind the scenes, the ones who don’t get interviews or jersey sales, and made sure they got their flowers, too.

This is the guy New York let walk? Philly fans sure aren’t complaining.

And he wasn’t done. A few blocks down, he spotted a little girl in the crowd, sign in hand: “Today is my 3rd birthday. Go Birds!” Most players might’ve smiled, maybe given a wave. Barkley? He stopped, scooped her up, and made her part of the moment. A snapshot in time, a memory her family won’t ever forget. Her dad, still in shock, summed it up best: “I couldn’t believe it was happening.” But that’s Barkley for you. He makes the impossible look effortless—on and off the field.

Philly has seen superstars come and go. But Barkley? He’s built different. This wasn’t just a championship parade for him—it was a welcome home tour. In a city that demands authenticity, he didn’t just win their respect; he earned it. Every interaction, every moment, felt like a guy who wasn’t just here to win rings but to belong. And if any Giants fans were still bitter about losing him, well, they just got another reason to regret it.

Saquon Barkley didn’t just help the Eagles win a Super Bowl. He reminded everyone what real leadership looks like. Stats and trophies are great, but moments like these? They’re what make a legend. And if this is just Year 1? Philly might be looking at something special.