Ryan Kuehl is one of the best in the NFL at what he does.
Too bad the average fan has no idea what that is.
He has been in the league for six years and a member of the
Browns since the franchise returned, but Kuehl remains as faceless
as your neighborhood instant oil change attendant.
There are no Ryan Kuehl bobbleheads. No Ryan Kuehl posters or
T-shirts. No Ryan Kuehl fan clubs.
Such is the paradox of the long snapper: The more success he
enjoys, the more anonymous he becomes.
``The only people who know what I do are the guys who pick up my
trash and deliver my newspaper,'' said Kuehl, who centers the ball
to Chris Gardocki on punts and kicking attempts.
``I'll go four more years here in Cleveland and not have a soul
know who I am and that's fine because it probably means I haven't
screwed one up.''
Perhaps no position in sports goes from obscurity to infamy
quicker.
Like 0.72 seconds.
That's all the time it can take for a snap to sail over a
punter's head and into the headlines and highlight reels.
In a blink of an eye, a career can be undone and defined by a
single mistake. Any wonder why most high school players take one
step back when coaches ask for long-snapping volunteers?
And yet those able to perform the highly specialized skill can
possibly prolong a career, secure a scholarship or even make a
comfortable living by doing it. Kuehl will earn $440,000 this season
for roughly 160 snaps.
``The dads who are trying to make their sons left-handed pitchers
should maybe look into long snapping -- there are opportunities in
it, '' said Kevin Gold, a Harrisburg, Pa.-based attorney and sports
agent who operates Longsnap.com, a Web site devoted to the
oft-ignored position.
Lake High School football coach Jeff Durbin has had his sons Luke
= [100.0]and Ted long-snapping since they were fifth-graders in
hopes that they could contribute as underclassmen. Ted, a sophomore,
is handling the duties this season.
The father and high school coach of Kent State long snapper
Jerami Hodgkinson also started him young. In a sport obsessed with
size and speed, Hodgkinson -- all 5-foot-7, 215 pounds of him --
arrived in Kent as a walk-on and earned a full ride within a
year.
``There is not another position on this field where I could be
playing,'' Hodgkinson said. ``I miss not being sore after practice
the way I was in high school when I played linebacker and guard, but
I'm certainly not complaining.''
Missing in action
Hodgkinson laughs about the environment of anonymity in which he,
punter Jared Fritz and kicker Travis Mayle operate.
They spend a good portion of each practice alone and
unsupervised. The trio work two practice fields away from the rest
of the team near Dix Stadium. Boredom and tedium are often their
toughest obstacles.
Long snappers center an average of 60 balls per day. The routine
is similar at the college and the pro levels.
Kuehl says he misses the interaction with other teammates. He is
a converted defensive end who hasn't played a regular-season down at
his former position since 1997.
When Kuehl came to the Browns in 1999, he also practiced with the
defensive linemen but focused his energies on the skill that would
keep him in the league.
He has been a long snapper exclusively under Coach Butch
Davis.
Davis believes his special-teams unit of Kuehl, Gardocki and
kicker Phil Dawson is the best in the league.
In the past two seasons, Kuehl has ranked near the top in tackles
for long snappers -- a statistic that Longsnap.com proudly tracks.
He also has played a role in extending Gardocki's NFL record for
consecutive punts without a block.
Gardocki and Dawson rave about their snapper's accuracy and
believe another Pro Bowl slot should be created for players such as
him.
Kuehl remains a humble long snapper. (Could there be any other
kind?) He ranks Patrick Mannelly (Chicago), Rob Davis (Green Bay)
and Lonie Paxton (New England) among the elite.
``I still don't think I'm any good,'' said Kuehl, who's only
satisfied with 10 to 15 snaps per season. ``Maybe that's why I
continue to work at it. That is probably a safe way at going about
things. I have been fortunate to have a little bit of success doing
this, but I'm still one snap away from having my (butt) in the
streets. Who knows when it's going to happen?''
High-pressure job
Most fans forget about the importance of long snapping until a
bad one kills their team. A botched special-teams snap can have a
significant impact.
Ohio State coach Jim Tressel said a key to the Buckeyes' 25-7 win
over Washington State was the struggles of the Cougars' snapper.
``He cost them,'' Tressel said. ``The long snapper is visibly
important when he's not doing well.''
The Dallas Cowboys had six punts blocked last season and went
through three snappers.
In the off-season, they acquired free-agent Jeff Robinson from
the St. Louis Rams and signed him to a four-year, $4.8 million
contract.
``The only people who think I'm worth this money are my parents
and (Cowboys owner) Jerry Jones,'' Robinson was quoted as
saying.
Ted Durbin of Lake might be just 15 years old, but he has come to
understand the pressures and the expectations unique to the
position.
``You only have one chance to do something right,'' said Durbin,
who also plays tight end and defensive end for the junior varsity.
``Other players get a chance to redeem themselves throughout the
course of the game. We really don't.''
One long snapper took his miscue to the grave with him.
Dan Turk enjoyed a productive 15-year career, but his final snap
on a potential game-winning field goal in the 1999 playoffs served
as his legacy.
Playing for the Washington Redskins, he one-hopped the ball to
the holder, leading to an aborted attempt and a 14-13 loss to the
Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
Turk was not re-signed. He died three months later of testicular
cancer at age 38.
``Every obituary I read mentioned that snap in the playoff game
and that's not fair considering the career he had,'' said Gold,
whose entire clientele consists of long snappers.
Perhaps no position is more recyclable. Mistakes and salary-cap
limitations have snappers forever on the move. Trey Junkin played 19
seasons with five teams.
Kuehl is with his third organization.
How fitting that the most recognizable snapper in football
history -- Pat the hiking Patriot (the former New England logo) --
was himself unceremoniously replaced in 1993.
An art form
The culture of long snapping is rapidly evolving, and nowhere is
it more apparent than at Mount Union College.
The Purple Raiders are one of the few small-college programs with
a long-snapping specialist on staff.
Mark Blegen is by day an assistant professor in the department of
Human Performance and Sport Management. But around 3 p.m., he puts
on his purple sweatsuit and transforms himself into Dr. Snap.
As if the six-time Division III national champions needed any
more assistance, now they have a volunteer coach whose job it is to
rid the Mount Union universe of hump-backed punt snaps.
``In the two years Mark has been working with our snappers, we
have seen a real improvement,'' Mount Union coach Larry Kehres
said.
Blegen is not just a former college long snapper, he's an author
on the subject.
He earned his master's degree in biomechanics at St. Cloud
(Minn.) State University by writing a 47-page thesis on long
snapping. Blegen spent 18 months filming and researching snappers
ranging from middle school to Division II college levels.
Reference material was scarce. Blegen said there had been just
three works published on the topic -- three more than most of us
might have suspected.
In a nutshell, long snapping is about speed and accuracy, Blegen
said.
Pro punters need the ball to cover 15 yards in less than 0.8
seconds. Long snappers such as Kuehl have it down to a science. They
can fire a perfect spiral, landing the ball in the hands of a punter
with the laces facing up.
Kuehl is a self-taught snapper.
He believes a lot of what he does comes naturally. He is not
afraid to help others, because only a few have what it takes to snap
at the pro level.
It is an art form: An intricate showcase of wrists, hips and back
working in sync.
``If snapping the ball was easy, anybody could do it,'' Kuehl
said. ``I can tell by throwing a ball overhand if a guy can do it or
not. If you can't throw a spiral overhand, you can't throw one
underhand, either.''
Kuehl is part of a new breed.
For years, long-snapping duties fell to centers or other
offensive linemen. Nowadays, the position is much more athletic. The
NFL has three snappers -- J.P. Darche (Seattle), Chris Massey (St.
Louis), Joe Maese (Baltimore) -- who are less than 6-foot-1, 245
pounds.
Mount Union's punt snapper, freshman Ross Watson, is a defensive
back.
Hodgkinson, a counselor for a traveling kicking camp, is seeing
an increase of interest in the position. He says it's no longer
uncommon for 10 youngsters to show up at a kicking clinic to learn
how to long snap.
Long time coming
The Kent State junior reminds young snappers that working with
your head buried between your legs has its drawback.
Especially on field goals and extra points.
``I get rolled every time,'' Hodgkinson said. ``You try to brace
yourself against the guards, but I always end up at the bottom of
the pile.''
Opponents stop at nothing to unnerve long snappers.
Kuehl said guys have threatened to ``take out'' his knees.
Hodgkinson has heard every short joke imaginable. And Durbin gets an
earful of barking.
As in barking threats and insults?
``No, as in barking like dogs,'' Durbin said.
Long snappers put up with a plenty of grief for little reward.
The next long snapper to be carried off the field will be the
first.
Perry coach Keith Wakefield concedes that he never has awarded a
weekly special-teams honor to his long snappers.
``I've had one punt blocked in 29 years of coaching, and that was
in 1984,'' Wakefield said, grinning.
``I guess I'm a little superstitious.''
Despite a century's worth of hardships and sleights, there are
signs that the long snapper is beginning to get his due.
One of the indelible images from last year's NFL postseason was
Paxton of New England celebrating Adam Vinitari's game-winning field
goal against the Oakland Raiders by doing a snow angel in the end
zone.
Only a long snapper would wait for a blizzard to have his moment
in the sun.
``Oh yeah, I knew (Paxton) was the long snapper,'' Hodgkinson
said. ``Nobody else probably did except other long snappers, but
we're always proud of one of our own.''