To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance….Ecclesiastes 3:1
The field goal operation in the modern game of football seems almost automatic to the casual observer. At point blank range, it’s as simple as snap, hold, kick, good.
There was a time when it wasn’t. Back in my early days of falling in love with the sport the only ‘soccer style’ kickers came from South America or Europe and were in the NFL, and you could count them on one hand. In my high school era in South Louisiana the successful field goal was like a sober fan in Tiger Stadium: you knew it existed in theory, but you very rarely actually saw one. The holder on our team had a square block he would place the ball on, and the kicker wore a strap that lifted the front of his foot up to help generate stability and loft as he approached the ball straight on. Our maximum range was probably 20 or 25 yards provided the wind was right. Extra points were at best 50/50 propositions, and going for two was the norm regardless of score or situation. If you want to get an idea of what placekicking looked like in that era, watch one of our students try it as part of a contest after being plucked out of the stands at Yulman Stadium.
Times have changed, but the placekicking game is still more complex than it looks. Every aspect of it relies on exquisite timing. The speed and accuracy of the snap, the time from when the ball touches the holder’s hands to the time it is placed on the ground and turned so the laces are facing forward, the geometry of the angle on which the outside wing blockers must reroute rushers, and the kicker’s steps and approach are all choreographed and repeated until a stopwatch says it’s perfect. Any mistake in any part of the operation disrupts the timing and increases the odds of failure.
Tulane’s first drive of Friday night’s AAC championship game moved deep into Army territory before a penalty helped stall it. The field goal team was sent on to attempt a 37 yard field goal. The snap was bobbled before it was placed down. Kickers are usually taught to trust the holder and to follow through with the kick even if the timing of the hold is a tick late, and sometimes from shorter distances kickers can even hesitate before swinging their leg through and get enough on the ball to make the kick; we actually did this, with the same holder and kicker, on an extra point earlier this year against Navy.
Not this time. Our placekicker took two steps, saw the bobble, and stopped. “He who hesitates is lost,” as the saying goes. In his defense, Army’s edge rusher would have very likely blocked the kick had he tried to hitch for a split second before following through. Army dove on the ball. The play kickstarted (or kickstopped?) a disastrous night for Tulane that ended in a humbling 35-14 defeat.
The play immediately brought to mind Charles Shulz’s iconic ‘Peanuts’ scene of Charlie Brown running forward determined to kick the football, and Lucy pulling it away at the last second. For many Tulane fans in the aftermath of a second straight disappointing defeat, that iconic image seemed to symbolize the entire season. So much promise, so much hope, only to land on our backsides with a painful thud.
For whatever reason, and there have been and will be many reasons offered by fans and observers, it just wasn’t meant to be. The timing wasn’t right. Perhaps Army was better than we thought they would be. I only saw them play once, against Notre Dame, and figured we could have similar success controlling the line of scrimmage. “Dad, maybe Notre Dame is better than you thought they were too,” my younger daughter and Irish grad offered, unhelpfully.
But in the aftermath of the game, as a program, we got up and dusted ourselves off and made a significant stride. We fended off multiple schools who wanted to take our football coach. In the economic hierarchy of today’s game, we couldn’t offer the full financial package that competing schools promised in terms of coach and staff salaries, revenue sharing and NIL money.
But we offered something newer, more promising, and more pleasantly surprising to many longtime supporters, and that was enhanced university commitment. Here’s Jon Sumrall on the subject:
“The administration here and I have had great dialogue about things we can do to try to continue to improve where we’re going. I love this city. I love this place. I love everything about being here. Are there things I want to do to continue to see how we can get better as a program? Hell yeah….I don’t like being behind. I want to be ahead. There are some things that we have to improve. We’ll work on it. I believe that.”
Churchill once said that there is nothing more exhilarating than being shot at without effect. Certainly we should be relieved and excited that we kept our coach. We dodged a bullet.
But look a little deeper. What you are seeing and reading here is an expression of faith and belief. By Jon Sumrall in Tulane University, and by the University in Jon Sumrall and the football program. Both are stepping out on a limb, fully realizing that the future is uncertain and the wisdom of these decisions may prove to be wrong. But both are doing so with a shared trust and vision of where Tulane can go and what we can become. Together.
For years I have seen and heard Tulanians blessed with ample resources who have refused to support our athletics program for the stated reason that the university was not sufficiently committed. Like our kicker Friday night, they didn’t trust that the ball would be in position if they swung their leg.
Well, that elusive dream of institutional alignment is upon us. Did the university have to be dragged ‘kicking and screaming’? Who cares. Through a combination of what our last football coach and our current one have gradually built, Gibson Hall and our Board are willing to keep investing and see how far we can take this thing. They see the value, not just of what we have but of what we can become. This is a far cry from the visionless Scott Cowen days of dumping almost the entire responsibility for funding the program on the fan base.
This leap of faith and commitment we saw in the last 24 hours is what we’ve been waiting for, but there’s a second thing to reflect on and that’s the program leader’s relentless determination to get better. He knows the end of the year wasn’t good enough. He knows what lessons need to be learned and what we need to do to learn them, as a staff and as a program.
I remember a prior head football coach who shall remain nameless, who told us one August that “this is going to be a long season but we’ll be better next year.” In August. You think this coach we have now thinks that way? You think he would have stayed had he thought we would be ‘rebuilding’ next year or we would be embarrassed in our bowl game or this program had peaked? Of course not. He’s betting his entire future on himself, his staff, his players, the university, and yes—every one of us. Each of us represents the point of the spear on our journey for the next 12 months and beyond. We can’t go where we want to go without all of us. Like Charlie Brown, we can get back up and make another run at the ball and that game starts NOW. The transfer portal opened TODAY.
Up next is a bowl game with an SEC opponent that will be the most talented team we have faced all year. Florida won its last three games against LSU, Ole Miss and Florida State. Its five losses this year were to three teams that are in the College Football Playoff, one that finished a spot or two outside of it, and Texas A&M. It’s practically a home game for them. On paper, this is a Herculean challenge.
But we will be tackling it with a coach who believes in this university and what he’s building here and where it can take him, and a university that believes in him and what winning football can mean for our students and our brand. The beauty of every new season of football and life is that you never know what it’s going to bring. We can’t always control the timing of the opportunities that come our way, but we can be ready to seize them when we see them. The next time this program sees one, it will be readier to seize it. The last 24 hours made that so.
Hope, that most cherished of assets in this season of the year, is aflame Uptown.
See y’all in Tampa.