I've been thinking about writing a blog for a little while. More for my enjoyment than anything. And then something happened this week that was personal for me; something that felt worthy of sharing with others. It feels like it's time to either put up or hush up. So, taking a deep breath, here goes...
The old photo above is something that has been in a dusty box in my garage attic for a long time. The memories of the achievement though, and some of the lessons learned from the man pictured in it, have been close to my heart for what seems like forever.
The inscription on the photo says, "To the Champs, 63 yards, Tom Dempsey"
Tom Dempsey, the man pictured and the fellow who provided the photo, was one of my Little League coaches. I was a 10-year old, playing on a team of mostly older kids in Southern California, doing whatever I could to hold my own on the field. Baseball was fun and important to me. Not surprisingly, at the time I had no idea of the influence that Tom, or several other future coaches, would have on my life.
Tom was born with no fingers on his right hand and without toes on his right foot. I don't remember thinking anything about it. I do remember a player in the league, Eddie Benes, who played on a prosthetic leg - we called it a peg leg at the time - that sounds so insensitive now. (Eddie once hit a homer deep into the Ecke Field greenhouses on top of the hill overlooking right field that might still be rolling.)
I can remember Tom pitching batting practice to us like Jim Abbott, before there was a Jim Abbott. He would take the ball out of his glove, put the ball in his left hand, half-wind up, while placing the glove on his stub hand and pressing it against his chest, throw the ball, and then balance the glove with his bad hand while putting his left hand back into the glove, so he could catch the ball being thrown back by the catcher, only to start the process all over again with every pitch.
Tom would come to afternoon practice and bring a gunny sack filled with footballs. After baseball practice, he would kick field goals. I don't ever remember acting as the holder, but we did shag balls for him.
Tom was a big guy. Well, everybody's big when you're 10, but he had a broad chest, a sturdy width and a big laugh. Thinking back, everything about him was Jumbo and larger than life. I think he played defensive tackle at San Dieguito HS before going to Palomar JC. I'm guessing he weighed a good 240. He kicked straight-ahead, Lou Groza style, and he was all power.
My best buddy on the team can remember when Tom got his boot in the mail that fit over his deformed foot. I remember during Little League season he was practicing for a try-out with the Chargers. That didn't work out and he signed with the New Orleans Saints in 1969.
Tom Dempsey was the first professional athlete I ever knew and that stuck with me. Throughout his career, I can remember going to the box score in the sports page every Monday morning to see how many field goals he had made the day before.
In 1970, on my birthday, Tom made a game-winning field goal with two seconds left on the clock from an NFL record 63-yards. The feat shattered the previous record of 56-yards. The above photo was signed by Tom and given to every member of our Little League team as he had invited us all up to watch the Saints play the LA Rams at the Coliseum. I remember seeing him after the game in his street clothes before he boarded the team bus. He had a scratched forehead from making a tackle on a kickoff return. We shook hands left-handed and he put his bad hand around my shoulder. The things you remember . . .
That record has stood for 43 years, until this past weekend when the Denver Broncos Matt Prater kicked a 64-yarder in the light air of the Mile High City. Congratulations to Matt.
They say records are made to be broken. I don't know, maybe they are. One thing that won't be broken though are the good feelings Tom's achievement have left on me. At first, I followed Tom because I knew him and he was in the NFL. Later, I began to realize how truly incredible the kick was. And as year after year passed by without anybody breaking the record, it all became crystal clear to me.
Here was a regular guy, a guy I knew, who volunteered his time to help a little league team three days a week on the corner of an old junior varsity field that had one rusty goal post, trying to follow his passion and capture a far-away dream.
Tom Dempsey may have been the most physically challenged player the NFL has ever known. Ever. The earth's population is roughly 7.2 billion people. Add that to the total number of people who have lived during the NFL's existence. Overlay that number with the knowledge that this single human set a record that stood the test of time in a league filled with world's most capable athletes for more than 43 years. What are the odds?
Here's to a man that persevered, that never gave up, that followed his dreams and achieved something that the odds and virtually everybody would say were impossible. For my entire adult life, whenever a challenge has arisen that seems temporarily overwhelming or nearly impossible, I think back to being a 10-year old taking batting practice from a big guy with one good hand.
Nothing is impossible. Tom Dempsey has proven it.
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| The famed boot! |
