Good Will Punting

Jan. 5, 1986. Soldier Field in Chicago. It's the NFC Divisional Playoff game between the Bears and the New York Giants. Since it's January, it's cold and windy when New York's Sean Landeta lines up in his own end zone, 15 yards behind the line of scrimmage, to punt the ball away. Landeta had made, and would continue to make during a 21-year NFL career, the same catch, drop and kick motion thousands of times.

But this time, he forgot that all-important third step. Landeta whiffed, the Bears executed the shortest punt return in NFL history and Chicago cruised to a shutout win and an eventual Super Bowl title.

It might be the most famous punt in football history.

But it only might be the most famous-or infamous-punt in football history because no one has taken the time to lay out an official list. Nobody really cares enough. There's no Monday Morning Punters, no punters on your fantasy team. Challenge the biggest football fan you know to name more than 10 punters in the league. He might toss out Todd Sauerbrun or Jeff Feagles, maybe throw in Shane Lechler.

I mean, how many of you are done already?

Punters have it even worse than kickers. Kickers can at least score points; they win and lose games. They can be clutch and they can choke.

Punters? In many ways, punters are to the football roster what Duke has been to the ACC. In other words, calling them the pawn or the Baltic Avenue of the football landscape might be overstating their value.

Punters are more like curtains. You don't even realize they're there until someone points them out.

Again, Jones gets it. Ask him about famous punts in football history, and he begins to resemble a certain vice presidential candidate, struggling to provide specifics.

"That's a hard one. I guess the most famous punts to me are the ones I've had because those are the only ones you truly remember," he says. "But I. I guess. man. I really don't know. I never really thought about it like that."

He laughs, then brings up the heroics of Adam Vinatieri, the former Patriots' kicker who twice won the Super Bowl with last-second field goals. He mentions the word clutch.

But is it even possible for a punter to be clutch? Jones' best memory from high school is the game-winning field goal he nailed his junior year as time expired, back when he was the team's kicker as well. It's hard to imagine him telling the same kind of story about a punt.

Man, you should have seen it. Second quarter, tie game. Thing went 55 yards. And no return. More beautiful than a plastic bag floating through the wind could ever be.

Sept. 15, 2007. Ryan Field in Evanston, Ill.-a 45-minute drive from Soldier Field. It's the fourth quarter, and Duke leads Northwestern by six. With just under 10 minutes left, the Wildcats are building momentum with a touchdown and a three-and-out from the Blue Devils' offense.

Out comes the white flag, Duke's attempt to snap its 22-game losing streak hanging precariously in the balance.

Jones lines up at the 11-yard line, 15 paces behind the line of scrimmage, and perfunctorily swings his right leg in preparation for the old catch, drop and kick routine that's etched deep into his muscle memory.

Snap's good, clean catch. The drop is pure. The kick, golden.

The ball hurdles through the crisp autumnal night sky, well over the head of Northwestern return man Brendan Smith. It gets a firm bounce and settles in at the Wildcats' 10-yard-line. A 64-yard punt with no return.

Who said punters can't be clutch?

The booming punt in the big spot was the best of Jones' season. One possession later, he's called on to do his little three-step motion and save the Blue Devils again.

This one he doesn't catch quite as flush on his foot, but it'll do. A 45-yarder, high enough to allow Eron Riley to make a tackle on the returner before he gains a yard. That's important, seeing how Northwestern finished seven yards short of extending Duke's misery on that ultimate drive.

A 37-yard punt means the goalposts at Wally Wade live to see Sunday morning.

For the night, Jones had four punts with a 45.5 average. Better yet, he goose-egged the Wildcats' returners.

Now that's a story you can tell.

"It was maybe a minute and a half left in the game, and we were backed up, and we needed a good punt to put them in bad field position so our defense can hold them," Jones says. "And it ended up being like a 45-yard net punt. I kicked it down there, hung it up long enough for Eron to hit him as soon as he caught it."

Yeah, "like a 45-yard net punt?" Like he doesn't know it was exactly 45 yards? Like he doesn't know he was, you know, clutch?

"I didn't think about it too much, and then a lot of the coaches were coming up to me, making sure I did know that I played a big role in that win," Jones says, smiling as he remembers. "Hearing it from them was probably the biggest thing. That's when it really sunk in, 'You know what? I think I actually did make a couple of big plays that might have helped us win.' That was a really good feeling for me."

You see? Even the punter doesn't think to give credit to the punter.

That night in Evanston was a big moment for a lot of Blue Devil players-one that, in Jones' words, gave them a glimpse of how the campus could come alive if the team ever turned around. Halfway into 2008, Jones and Duke are getting more than just a glimpse.

Earlier this season, Jones was named to the watch list for the Ray Guy Award, given annually to the nation's top punter. He's displayed the ability to blast the ball downfield along with a deft touch to pin opponents inside the 20, including twice at the one-yard line.

It's all about technique, he says. Technique, and luck.

"You have to kick it at a different angle. You pull the nose up a little bit, give it a little tap, and hopefully it takes a good bounce when it gets down there," he explains, trying to glaze over some of the more complicated technical aspects. "I really enjoy the short field and pooch punting. It's probably the biggest momentum swing you can get on a punt."

There are the fakes, of course, like the failed one against Virginia. But there was that one last season at Florida State, when Jones completed a 15-yard pass to Riley for a first down.

"It's nerve-wracking, but it's really a special experience," he says. "You go out there and you feel like a football player-a real one-if only for a few moments."

It's weird to hear him so candid-"a real one." Earlier Jones talks about the switch from being a mediocre 115-pound offensive tackle in middle school to a kicker in high school as one from being "a football player to a special teamer."

He backs off the statement, if only a little.

"We [special teamers] definitely think we're part of the team. We don't consider ourselves lesser of a football player than the other guys. They might say different. But it's very much a different approach to the game, though, because of the limited opportunities that we get."

Limited opportunities extend to the practice field. Just like at games, the kickers and punters get there a little early, do their repetitive workout, then stand on the sidelines and let the "real" players take the field.

But in that restricted time on the field this season, Jones has done enough to earn a spot on that watch list, one of just 11 sophomores to do so. And that means he can entertain, however briefly, thoughts about a professional career.

But remember, punters are the curtains, and so maybe one or two get drafted and earn even a chance at an NFL roster spot. The job market is pretty tight, with 32 teams and an established employee base. Landeta's 21-year career, after all, isn't that atypical for someone who swings his leg a few times a week for a living.

Curtains, white flag, Baltic Avenue. None of the sobriquets bother Jones, a man who's living what he calls a "once-in-a-lifetime experience" at Duke. And as a psychology major, he's not exactly confused by the football hierarchy.

"Obviously with Thad and Eron throwing and catching TD passes, that's going to get most of the admiration and the glory. But I kind of like being the guy who silently helps us win games."

He smiles again. The punter helping to win games? It's a crazy idea, almost as crazy as the idea of Duke football being competitive in the ACC.