10 years later and I am starting to think…maybe life is more
about the misses…than the makes.
Like a brilliant diamond, it was the thousands of cuts,
that made it so magnificent. It’s the refinement process that produces beauty.
ESPN’s top play of the week referred by many Michigan fans
as simply “The Kick”, contains more than a singular kick. Actually, there were
plural “kicks” in the game that led up to the one that most remember.
I still recall folks telling me after the game that one
day people will forget the misses, and only recount how they felt as “The Kick”
from 44 yards out, with ESPN College Game Day nearby, split the uprights to
give Michigan a two point advantage as time expired in front of 110,000
screaming fans.
I still have the ESPN sport center game review and I find as
much meaning in The Kick, as I do in what I will dub “The Misses”…and a couple
of them being big misses.
The first miss came in the first quarter. The Wolverines had
broken out into an early lead thanks to the legs of Chris Perry. On 4th
down I was called in to attempt an average field goal attempt of 37 yards. Good
snap, good hold, wind at my back…but wide left. Directly into the student
section. I was a little stumped by
the outcome because I thought I made good contact, but during film review the
next day revealed that I brought my head up to soon which caused me to hook the
kick.
The second miss, well….the term wide left doesn’t do it
justice. ESPN Sport Center commentators referred to it as a “wounded duck.” At
that point, fans would rather have put stock in seeing their first ever flying pig before they
saw me kick a pig skin through any uprights.
Well, after recovering in the locker room after a shameful and down right ugly start to my career as a placekicker at the winningest college football program
in history, my fate was looking gloom, quite contrary to the hot, bright sunny
day that was Ann Arbor that day.
Warming up before the start of the second half resulted in
even more embarrassment as every kick continued to go wide left, but this time
each one soaring into the hands of a 19 or 20 something kid that shared that
same title as “student” as me. They were my peers, but they were not forgiving
of my performance. They began to boo as I had a difficult time kicking the ball
straight.
Wisely and maybe a little influenced by the booing fans, my
special teams coach decided to bench me for the second half and go with my
back-up and best friend to see if luck in the kicking game could change. He
too, was also very unproven and had never attempted a kick in the big house
during a game.
After scoring a touchdown in the third, his first ever extra point
soared through the center of the uprights, which brought a roar from the crowd that
almost equaled the sounds you hear as a player when you run out of the tunnel
to jump and touch the banner.
The fans were rallying around the new found hope in another
kicker, and my stock fell lower than what was experienced by the Big 3 a few
years back. I was down and out,
and if it wasn’t for my powerful leg on kickoffs, my career at Michigan may
have been short lived, described by a couple of missed kicks, one that most
fans could have out performed.
Well, as the game went on the two missed field goals (6
points) started to feel a little more painful as Washington kept the game close
and even took the lead at different points. With several minutes left,
Washington scored a touchdown to take the lead, 29 to 28. At that point, most fans were probably
strategizing their plan to lynch, tar and feather me. Hmmm…should we nab him
before he goes into the locker room or grab him on his way out.
Fortunately for the fans, John Navarre and Chris Perry were
on fire that day and led the team back down the field with 1:27 remaining on
the clock. With a failed third down attempt, it would come down to a kick from
27 yards out. Nothing more than a
chip shot for a kicker who had been perfect on extra points. This only being 7
yards further, didn’t seem to present many problems.
The kick did not sail wide left, rather, it just missed wide
right. The fans were in utter
shock. If there was any reprieve for me after that miss, it was the simple fact
that I was no longer going to have
to fear the headlines in Ann Arbor News kicker lynched….because at this point
my best friend and one time back up kicker was going down with me.
With little time remaining and no kicker who can make a
field goal, the only hope found in that stadium was in the word…hope-less. The
Wolverines took the field on defense to grind out the remaining seconds, with
the only thing going for Michigan was the three timeouts they had left. A
Washington first down at this point, would end the game, and solidify the kicker(s) lynching.
With a stop on the first play and a quick timeout, there may
have been some fans who started to walk a little slower as they tried to be the first escape the mass exodus from the Big House; trying to beat traffec on main and state street on their way to I94 or US23.
If there was any hope in moving the ball with no timeouts it
dissipated quickly as John Navarre had difficultly finding a receiver. With 9
seconds left, some fans started kicking themselves for not leaving earlier.
Washington, wanting to make sure they were perfectly
prepared for any last second heroics called their final timeout to put in just
the right package to ensure a victory over the #10 Wolverines, for the second
year in a row.
Their package worked perfectly as John Navarre overthrew
everyone, including the 12 Washington defenders that were on the field. With
five ticks remaining on the clock the official picked up a yellow flag
signaling this grave error by Washington, and eventually announcing that 12 Huskies were on the field, one too many...all of this following their timeout, of all things.
The official marched the field a full 15 yards closer to the
uprights, the ones that were in throwing distance by half the student body. The
distance from the uprights was set at 44 yards, left hash. It was still no easy kick, especially by two kickers who still hadn't made a career field goal in three earlier attempts that day.
With not enough time to do eeny-meeny-miney-moe, Coach Carr
had no choice but to call #34 (Phil Brabbs) into the game because he had a
stronger leg, which gave a slight advantage for him over the guy who just
missed the last kick.
Although the Big House had been witness to many college
football games for decades, it had never been home to a game winning last
second field goal, oddly enough. There was a shot at it this day, but the odds
were more in favor of a former soccer player randomly picked from the student body making this
kick than anyone sporting a winged helmet from the sidelines.
So at a moments notice, Coach Carr told me to get into the
game and attempt a kick that could redeem both kickers for the day. I took my steps back and to the left, recited Phil 4:13 as I always would do,
motioned to Navarre to take the snap, and then headed toward what would end up
being my most defining moment as an athlete in the thousands of hours of competition I had totalled...and this play would only last 5 seconds. Talk about pressure.
That kick was up and extended over two Huskies defenders that
were reaching for the sun, and as I looked up, I saw the ball sailing perfectly
through the uprights (watch it here). All of a sudden time seemed to stop. I couldn’t hear a
thing, probably because the stadium feared an inevitable outcome of a fourth
missed field go attempt by the guy who botched two in the first half.
Then, as both refs motioned that the field goal was good, I
entered back into reality, probably when my 6'6" QB and holder started to grab and shake me like a rag doll. The reality that something big hit us both and every fan in that stadium at the exact moment, and I (or my right foot) was part of it. I knew instantly that this wasn’t just my first career field
goal, but this was something that was going to be imprinted on Michigan
Football history for years to come, just like the game announcers had commented.
After being pulled from the bottom of a 100+ person pile on at the center of the Big House, which I would have been content with being my final resting place during that moment, I was found smiling and screaming with joy. The picture to the right shows just how charged I was in that moment.
After my rescue from the bottom of the pile, I was instantly swarmed by the press. I recall the media shoving all their microphones towards my face as if I had the solution for world peace on the tip of my tongue and I was about to share it to the whole world. As most of the team returned to the locker room to sing The Victors, which is a great Michigan football tradition, I needed to be rescued. So none other than D-line coach Brady Hoke came to my side to pull me through the barrage of press. To this day both of us have the photo the right on our office desk.
Well years have come, a full decade worth to be exact. That play was determined to be with of
the top 20 in the Big House. So yes, it indeed was a very big moment. For me,
it gave me hope in the impossible. It taught me that in what can be your
weakest moment, hope can ride you through the dark night and carry you through.
That you can go from goat to hero in this world in a moments notice. That you
need to remain positive when surrounded my negativity. That those closest to you: your teammates,
family, friends, will be there when you are in the middle of the improbable
fate that looks to lead to know where but devastation.
But in this entire game experience that led to The Kick, I
am now thankful for the misses, because to this day, they are helping guide me
through some of life’s toughest challenges. Yeah, football is just a game and
those were just a couple of kicks, but the emotions I experienced were real and
it was on a stage were millions were glued to the outcome.
Let’s raise our glasses to the many misses we have in life,
whether missed field goals, snaps that got away from you or an occasional
botched hold. Those dark moments may just be the predecessor of a really great moment. So hold on, keep the faith, remain hopeful and expect the impossible.
God Bless and Go Blue!!! (10 years later)
-Phil
P.S. #BeatBama
