When all else fails, PUNT !

As a young lad, I was never enamored by the great football position players of the era. To me Joe Montana was an ok quarterback, Lawrence Taylor was an average defensive guy, Franco Harris was a fine running back but for me the most interesting position players were the kickers. Seems weird since I can't kick a lick. My soccer skills are worse than a 6 year olds. My kickball kicks (even to this day) usually burn the ground and never go where I intend them to go. I remember kicking off the ball in some pick up football games in the park, if one in ten made it into the air, we had success. I am sure it wasn't normal to have bruises on your feet after attempting to punt a few down the field. What the matter with me feet? I can kick a tennis ball real good after a bad shot and I can keep a balloon afloat with my feet for minutes on end. It boggles my mind.

Back to the kickers of the NFL.
Garo Yepremian of the Dolphins was a favorite of mine. Until he decided to throw the ball.

I loved Jack Dempsey, dude had half a foot and still holds the record for longest field goal (40 something years by now)

The all-time favorite player of mine will always be Dave Jennings of the New York Giants. As a twelve year old, I sent him some letters. OK, about 20. I asked him tons of questions about punting, to describe his practices and most importantly for some tips on how to become a good punter or did he ever get scared of on coming lineman? To my surprise, boy was I every time I went to the mail box to find letter from the the NY Giants addressed to me. He was thoughtful enough to answer this punk kids questions with great detail and care. I think by my third letter he may have thought that I was out of for his job. He always included signed photos and some sort of Giants stickers or some of his cards. He was like my pen pal for a whole season. Thinking back on it, knowing that the kickers in the game today still don't get the respect from their peers (Ray Guy , still not in the hall.)I may have been the only kid writing to a punter. Ever.
FYI- I still have the letters and give them a read through every so often.
That my friends, takes me back.

So for all those watching the game this weekend. I ask you to give some time to observing the under-appreciated kicking game. When your punter rips one for 59 yeards with no return. You will have witnessed something special.



the sportsfreaks code:
its an Uncle right to kick his nephews in the pants an unlimited amount of times.
I know its not always funny.. nah.. its always funny.

I had hours of fun throwing the baseball off the cement base of the house to practice fielding grounders. To be as good as Willie Randolph you had to practice, practice, practice you know. Unfortunately my aim was not very good as I proceeded to break most of bottom shingles off the house with my throws. I'm sure my Pop was thrilled.

Us neighborhood kids had some epic wiffle ball games there. It was no holds barred when we played. You would think that playing with a wiffle ball and bat you we safe from breaking things and each other. Think again. Getting hit with a WF bat hurts like the dickens and did you ever get your finger caught in the ball. Everything STOPS! to surgically remove your pinched finger. But you did run around with the ball dangling from your finger to show it joyfully to everyone playing how you caught it.The yard definitely took it hard during those games. Fences were ran into, precious flower blooms were ripped from their stems in order to stay on base and moms new mulching jobs provided some tough footing during those sky high pop ups.
Hey Dad, muchas gracias for mowing the field (lawn), we were sliding an extra two or three feet just because of that.


I can't remember how this game came to be in the yard but it was fantastic.It's tough to describe, I'm sure may have been a tennis device for practice. The tennis ball was attached to a cord and it spun up and down along the metal screw top. Anyone? Help with a name? I told you it was tough to describe.Boy oh boy did we practice, we practiced so hard on that thing we broke the wire the ball was attached to. Lots of frustration was taken out on that poor thing. I'm sure it was probably happy to die.

Our parents must have really thought us kids were nuts. We would have relay races between the neighbors four yards. We'd have to navigate six fences, four gates one or two dogs, cars in driveways, Damn.. we'd be running across lawns, flower beds (good short cuts), clothes lines, sprinklers and sunbathers. That is when I got most use of my "stop watch" option on my watch (that was a quick shout out to my Facebook friends). I even used my pops old hand held stop watch at the time. Gotta get me one of those again. I got some nephews and nieces who are just like we used to be and would do anything to get timed.


there's Mom's whistle, the sportsfreaks got to go.

Four-ty ! (Degrees)

Last week I was prompted to play a round of golf by a few of the guys at the office. We took off from work for a day of golf that we soon would never forget. We heard about this golf course is South Lake County, FL that was offering free "winter" golf to all golfers. For real, dude. The only criteria for golfers was, they had to dress in their finest Florida summer clothes. This seemed like the best deal ever until you realize it was forecast to be only 41 degrees that day with a windchill factor in the low 30's. Certainly not the balmy Florida weather us sports are used to.
So donned with my flip flops, white shorts (did someone say white out?), polo shirt , shades and Gator Cap I set forth to meet up with the guys at 6:45am. Wouldn't you know it we had one guy, faking sick, who would not be joining us (FYI Andrew, we know where you live.)

To all you Northerner's, 30 something degrees down here is not a good thing. We got thin blood . Really we do. So to say it was cold was an understatement. If I could've stayed in my car with heater on while driving the the cart path I would have. But nooooo..the golf course had a few tricks up their sleeves for all those who ventured out for this special deal. We had a use a golf cart. An open air golf cart! The mere thought of driving faster to finish the round quicker quickly went away when hit with the extra cold wind it created. The crazy cart girls (those beeotches, in their thermals) were of no help. They were only serving frosty beverages (beer me!). You were not able to leave the course for any reason. But they did have Icee machines on holes 5 and 14 for those trying to keep cool. I ventured for cherry. Delicious. aaahhh Brain Freeze!

During the turn was our only reprieve from the elements. You had 15 minutes. (can you believe the bastards timed us) to warm up in the clubhouse. I'll be honest, it was the most glorious 15 minutes of my life. Then it was back out into the frozen tundra. Of all the days for the sun to be shy. This was getting worse by the minute.

To say I shot bad was an understatement. How does one stay relaxed and focused while shivering to death? My stupid chicken skin had goose bumps.

My favorite vision for the day was a foursome we passed that had painted the letters G-O-L-F on their bare chests. All you football fans think you so bad ass. HA!

In the end, with rosy cheeks and runny noses we said our good byes.
The sportsfreak enjoyed his day just being one of the guys.