And Fitzpatrick appreciates the offensive transformation that occurred in his absence last year. When he went down, he was the best runner on the team. Upon his return, Dawson had assumed that mantle and become the centerpiece of the offense.

Rather than radically realign that system, Fitzpatrick has carefully struck a balance that sacrifices his personal glory for a better shot at the title. With little difficulty, he has realized that this is not the Neil Rose-style offense he inherited a year ago and that’s not a second-option rusher in the backfield with him.

Fitzpatrick knows better than anyone that those sky-high personal numbers are easily within reach, but to attain them would diminish the offensive whole, and that this is no zero-sum game. If he were to throw at the expense of Dawson’s touches, opponents could key on the pass and eventually limit his effectiveness.

At the same time, he witnessed—from the sidelines last year—what happens to Dawson when that threat of an air strike is lifted. Sure, he’ll get his yards, but he’ll fall well short of his potential. And he certainly won’t be scoring three touchdowns a game.

But with the run-pass distribution currently in place, Dawson gets his touches and Fitzpatrick avoids unnecessary exposure. The ball is safe, and so is Fitzpatrick. Holes open in the defensive line, but larger seams provide space in the defensive backfield.

Gone is the carefree run ’n gun quarterback who risked it all on every play last year. In his place stands a much wiser Fitzpatrick, who uses his legs primarily to free up his arm and while on the run finds his receivers as if both were standing still.

The one whose numbers will stay down, only to see his win total rise.

The better one.

—Staff writer Timothy J. McGinn can be reached at mcginn@fas.harvard.edu.