NAKED AND ALONE
WITH 80,000 PEOPLE

There's a moment in every person's life when they stand naked and alone—not literally, but spiritually, emotionally, completely exposed to the judgment of the world. For me, that moment came repeatedly in front of 80,000 screaming fans, preparing to kick what could be a game-winning field goal or a soul-crushing miss.

But we all have our Arrowhead Stadium moments. Whether you're walking into a job interview after being rejected eleven times, starting a business everyone says will fail, or choosing to love again after heartbreak, you know that feeling of standing alone with everything on the line.

This book isn't really about football. It's about the universal human experience of facing rejection, failure, and doubt—and finding the strength to try one more time. It's about discovering that the very failures that seem to break us are actually forging us into something stronger and more resilient.

The Ultimate Pressure Cooker

Succeed or fail. Live or die. There was nothing in between.

The highest highs, the lowest lows all crammed into a 30-second frame. I only had a 1.27 second window just a few times a game to be 100% ON. It was never when you expect it. I learned quickly that you just have to be ready for anything, no matter what.

That's the job. There is no position in any sport more intense, more concentrated, and more pressured per split second than that of the NFL placekicker.

The Anatomy of a Kick

In 30 seconds, he runs onto the field, picks out his target, and the 3-inch square spot where his holder must place the ball, while somehow silencing the roar of thousands within barely 100 feet, many shouting sometimes not-so-elegant Shakespearean sonnets at him.

Adding to that, there are 11 massive opponents—enemies, temporary monsters—frothing at the mouth just 20 feet away, paid millions of dollars to block your kick, humiliate you, maybe even eat you for lunch, doing anything to distract you and take your power and your team's points away.

Chapter 1: The Game

Imagine standing, sitting, stretching, jogging, and kicking into the net after we cross midfield on offense, on a somewhat chaotic, slower-paced, crowded NFL sideline, helmeted and non-helmeted teammates with their enormous shoulder pads stretched far and wide.

You're paid to do one thing... and to do it perfectly.

But unlike basketball, soccer, or baseball and the sports you played throughout high school and into college, there is no chance to get into the steady flow of the game.

Chapter 2: The Skeptics and the Legend

There were those who were skeptical that I could succeed under tremendous pressure. Most of the skill was in ignoring everyone who wanted me and my team to fail—starting with the Kansas City Chiefs veterans who loved their elder-statesman Super Bowl hero, father figure, and future NFL Hall of Fame teammate, Jan Stenerud (who I had also always admired).

After enduring 11 rejections, my brand was well-earned Loser with a capital L at the time I made the Kansas City Chiefs. No one knew who I was.

Chapter 3: The Breakthrough Moment

My very first field goal in the NFL was poetically a 50-yarder.

"Typical," I said to myself as I ran on the field.

I remember feeling a single tear running down my cheek as I let go of the pain of all those 11 rejections, saying to myself:

"F---k it!! It's your time! I've paid my dues. It's my time!"

Soulful Echo #1: Never, Never, Never Give Up!

I'm getting closer to beating out future NFL Hall of Famer Jan Stenerud head-to-head, mano a mano, after 11 rejections. Future Chiefs Dynasty owner Clark Hunt was charting us every practice and every kick at William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri in 107° average heat and thick humidity.

Under my breath, I'm coaching myself quietly, "Out kick him every day, at everything."

I'd been cut by 8 NFL teams (3 of them twice), but I was confronted by a team that would fly me out to KC from Virginia, give me a $2,500 bonus, and bring me in 3 months early to compete against the greatest kicker in the history of the game...

The Present in My Bed

One day after practice late in training camp, I came back to my room after dinner with my roommate, Paul Dombroski (a proud Hawaiian on a team with five Hawaiians) in Eaton Hall at William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri.

As I pulled the covers from my bed, at the end of another humid 107° Missouri summer day, there was my present:

Five feet of warm, still fresh, disgusting Liberty, Missouri cow manure, with squiggly live worms still in it.

Sometimes the shit we have to go through in life is real shit!! This wasn't imagined.

Soulful Echo #2: The Journey (Is Beautifully Ugly)

I'd been cut by eight teams 11 times. Before I went to training camp with the Chiefs, I had given up. Yes. I had given up my quest to make it in the NFL after two years of endless rejections.

Lee Verstandig, the former Dean at Brown University who ran Senator John Chafee's office, asked me if I was "ready to get a real job?"

It was an ugly minefield of rejections, cut by the New Jets and then New England Patriots in my first season. I became a travelling door-to-door self-salesman, trying out with Tampa Bay and the Baltimore Colts, just not being good enough.

The Call That Changed Everything

Speaking of God's timing, after the first week of that new job, I got a call out of the blue by Jim Schaaf, General Manager for the Kansas City Chiefs. I was watching the playoff games in my parents' bedroom. I'd rejected contract offers from the Cleveland Browns and Baltimore Colts. No bonus—just a chance to go to training camp once again. I had committed to my new job and life.

When Jim Schaaf called, he said that head coach Marv Levy appreciated the value and small details of the kicking game, and they were interested in signing me.

I thanked him politely and said, maybe another time, I've got a great job. And I hung up—and then something strange happened: I immediately felt something was very wrong.