Death (threats) or glory in the loneliest of roles
Outside of Victorian Arctic explorers, there can be few lonelier, more perilous jobs than that of NFL goalkicker. Just ask poor Cody Parkey.
With 10 seconds left of the Chicago Bears’ wildcard playoff match against the Philadelphia Eagles, Parkey had a 43-yard field goal to clinch victory for the Bears. The snap was good, the connection clean, but as the ball sailed through the air, it started drifting, striking the left-hand post and then the crossbar before fatefully falling the wrong side. The Eagles won 16-15 and Parkey’s kick was soon labelled the ‘‘double doink’’.
Parkey exited Soldier Field alone on Monday to a chorus of boos from Bears fans. And that was just the start. Online, the death threats started piling up against Parkey and his family. Having converted only 23 of 30 field goals this season, the consensus is that he will be cut by the Bears in the off-season. Parkey was, understandably, inconsolable in the locker room, despite fronting up to reporters.
‘‘That’s one of the worst feelings in the world, to let your team down,’’ Parkey said. ‘‘I feel terrible. I’m going to continue to put things in perspective, continue to put my best foot forward and sleep at night knowing I did everything in my power to go and make that kick and for whatever reason it hit the crossbar and the upright, and I still couldn’t do it. So, yeah. I feel terrible.’’
But then it emerged that Parkey’s miss was not a miss after all. Treyvon Hester, the Eagles’ defensive tackle, had got a fingertip on the ball. It was the faintest of touches, but that was still enough to divert the trajectory of the ball and send the Eagles, rather than the Bears, into next week’s divisional round, where they will face the New Orleans Saints.
According to the NFL statistics at least, it will be recorded as a blocked field goal, not that this has affected the opprobrium directed toward Parkey or the safety of his job prospects. He might have been the toast of the Windy City; instead it seems he will be driven out of town. This is the bipolar existence of an NFL kicker: death (threats) or glory, with little middle ground.
They already exist in isolation to their team-mates, training alone and coming on to the pitch to perform a single action. Similar to a football goalkeeper who can make countless saves and be remembered for a solitary mistake, if they make the kick, they are simply doing their job. Miss, and the consequences are frequently severe.
Earlier this season, rookie kicker Daniel Carlson missed three field goals for the Minnesota Vikings in their grudge match against the Green Bay Packers and was fired instantly. When asked about letting him go, head coach Mike Zimmer said: ‘‘Did you see the game?’’ Was it an easy decision? ‘‘Yep, it was pretty easy.’’ Cutthroat barely does it justice.
Would Zimmer have done the same after his quarterback threw an interception? Not a chance. Kickers are as cheap and expendable as supermarket plastic bags. They are also convenient fall guys. Chicago did not lose just because of Parkey’s kick, but because they failed to fire on offence until the final quarter. Far easier for the kicker to be thrown under the bus than to examine the coaches’ wider tactical failings.
At least Parkey was defended by many of his team-mates. Asked what message he would give to those sending Parkey death threats, Bears left tackle Charles Leno Jnr said: ‘‘What would my message be? F..k you. You’re not in this position. You don’t know how hard this s..t is. Like, that’s all it is. That’s all it is.’’