Ashton Jeanty takes over.

(Play “Lacrimosa” above the whispers, watch the universe bubble up, the sky form.)

Bodies, bodies, bodies hit the grass. Failed defenders, with their face masks off, look up long enough to see Jeanty leaving them behind. There he goes, into the wild blue yonder. There he goes, on his way to six. This has happened before and it will happen again. Inevitability is a monster truck. It roars until it scores.

Boise State’s junior running back has rocketed to the top of the Heisman Trophy candidates through his first five games of the 2024 college football season. He did this based on absurd figures and even more absurd highlights. He rushed for – eyes bulging – 1,031 yards and 16 touchdowns with an average of 10.9 yards per carry. He leads the Football Bowl Subdivision in each of those categories, and his stats would be even better if he hadn’t sat out the second half of two blowouts. Still, Jeanty is on pace to break Barry Sanders’ 1988 rushing record of 2,628 yards. If you’re a running back with numbers comparable to Oklahoma State’s Barry, you’re doing something wild.

Jeanty is a stormy ball carrier. There’s a real thunderstorm going on. A disastrous thump when he meets potential tacklers. Lava comes out of his ears and makes the stands erupt. The man is volcanic.

A big part of modern offense is about outsmarting defenses. The quarterback is king, and schematic wizardry is queen. The running back takes a backseat. Confusion is the name of the game. The goal is to turn the defense around and find a receiver without a defender within 10 yards. This offensive evolution is understandable, but it may leave fans unable to comprehend what has happened.

Jeanty and the 4-1 Broncos don’t make sports feel like homework. They have turned back the clock and returned football to the essence of running. Boise State isn’t trying to fool you. It’s honest about its intentions. Jeanty goes beyond making the game plan sing. He turns it into an opera, makes the camera shake, makes the base beautiful.

“We’re going to line up, we’re going to run the ball,” Jeanty said after collecting 259 yards and four touchdowns in a 45-24 win against Washington State in September. “You’re going to know that we’re going to run the ball, and we’re going to keep getting yards, and we’re going to make you stop.”

There’s something romantic about the hero running back. There is something magical about a player who can go a long way every time he touches the ball. Something that makes you start naming the greats: BoJackson. Adrian Peterson. Earl Campbell. Tony Dorsett. Something that allows you to pause the television, rewind and call your friends into the room. Something that makes you say, “Man, Look with this shit.”

Jeanty has feet made of wonders. Give him the ball and watch him run across the water. He punches the hole, wildly mad, apoplectic, in a towering rage. Wild and flowing. No wasted movement. He leans over defenders as if he gets personally offended that someone is crazy enough to get in his way. It’s built like a fallout shelter, like a javelina, like the all-new Ford F-150. You better hit it low and round it off or it will bounce off you like a bad check and take it home with you.

He has the vision, the elusiveness, the patience, the hezzies, the bunnies, the jets. In the open field he is skating. The trailer is disconnected and the truck is a blur. Jeanty rips chunks out of the defense. He makes a small jump into the hole and then starts throwing punches. A cartoon of a runner giving out Schwarzenegger stiff arms. It’s so full of broken tackles that you just start laughing. Carriers that cause announcers to say things like, “Ashton Jeanty breaks a tackle in the backfield, because of course he does.” Carriers who would take Chris Berman to the next level.

“I just kind of go into a dark mode,” Jeanty said.

(Play Carter Burwell’s ‘Way Out There’ by founding Arizonago to the 1:16 mark, yodel with all your heart.)

What Jeanty brings is spectacle and cinema, shock and awe. Catch him booking it, like HI McDunnough with freshly stolen Huggies in his hands. Like the Roadrunner speeding through the desert with Wile E. Coyote’s weapons. Jeanty is the gas station where the fight is taking place It’s a crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy world made manifest. When he’s done defending, he leaves behind nothing but smoldering wreckage. Broadcasts should show its games in IMAX.

Boise State has a great tradition at running backs. Ian Johnson, Jay Ajayi and Doug Martin were all quality defenders who made magic during their time in the City of Trees. Jeanty, however, is something else. He is looking for an appointment and will not stop until he has the attention of the entire country. He apparently had multiple six-figure NIL offers from power conference schools trying to lure him away this offseason, and he turned them all down. This is a player with conviction, someone who finishes what he starts.

Two quads to rule them all. Quads from Megalon and from gold. Mini fridge quads filled with hatred and ambition. The eruption is rare. Balance is rare. The cuts are rare. Fighting defenders like he’s Bryan Lyndon’s horse. Turns the blue grass into an oceanic playground of obscenities.

He gives you a bad feeling for the defense. He makes you remember what it felt like to fall in love with football in the first place. He is past, present and future at the same time. When he’s running, he’s the best show in the world, all that matters. Ashton Jeanty takes over. Yep.