THE FOOTBALL LEAVES Justin Herbert's hand and appears to travel downhill, nose down, a plane forever on approach. It rotates through the air roughly 12½ times per second, the laces spinning vertiginously into a white fuzz. A football released by Herbert's right hand and powered by his right arm has always been more than a mere object. Its path, a straight line for longer than seems possible, sends a message of hope and expectation -- for him, for his teammates, for those who run the Los Angeles Chargers. His receivers call it a heavy ball, but they're describing it solely in the literal sense.
'A silent killer with great hair': How Justin Herbert helped turn the L.A. Chargers around
