A Day Swank Almost Sank
My favorite all-time Sam Swank story was the one he told about his days of life guarding on Jacksonville Beach, before he arrived at Wake Forest to become the best kicker the school has ever had.
Seems that a lady quite pregnant found herself on a sandbar farther from shore than she had realized, just when the tide came in. So she’s paddling back through this pool that’s over her head when she gets panicky. Sam has to plunge in and try to save her. Only she’s a pretty big lady carrying a baby and Sam, who is still in high school, isn’t all that big. Sam said it got pretty dicey there for awhile, with the two of them thrashing around trying not to drown, before Sam got them both safely back to shore. I remember a couple of us sportswriters—I’m pretty sure Tom Berry of the High Point Enterprise was one—laughing til the tears rolled out of our eyes as Sam is telling the story in his impeccable dead-pan delivery.
There will never be another one like Sam Swank at Wake Forest. He’s an original. He’s also a lot of fun to be around. So you know I had to be happy when the phone rang Monday and the voice on the line says ``I hear you’re looking for me.’’ It was Sam, and I was. I needed to talk with him for the story we ran in the Journal today about him signing a free-agent contract with the Philadelphia Eagles. I know David Akers of the Eagles is considered one of the top kickers in the NFL, but I wouldn’t bet against Sam playing in the NFL—either with the Eagles or someone else. Most kickers enter the league as free agents anyway, and after the sixth round or so Sam was probably lucky not to get drafted. That way he and his agent could cut their own deal.
Sam was impressive as a kicker his first three seasons at Wake, and probably even more impressive as a person in his fourth. Who could forget the pulled quadriceps that turned his senior season into a soap opera and sidelined him for six games—thus depriving him of a final flourish to a brilliant career. But Sam never wallowed in self-pity, or at least if he did, I didn’t see it. He just kept showing up at the training room for treatment and encouraging his replacement Shane Popham and answering me as honestly as he could all 5,000 times I asked him how he was doing and when he might be back.
He never copped an attitude about anything, which I appreciated.
Sam and I did have one difference, the day he missed the last-second field goal at Virginia his junior season and the Deacons lost 17-16. The kick was of 47 yards, but I was shocked when Sam missed. So was Coach Jim Grobe, who said later that the films showed that Sam was wide right by about a foot.
It’s never fun to have to talk with players in times of heartbreak, but as a sportswriter, it’s my job. I was told Sam would talk with us as soon as he regained his composure and went out into the stands to have a quick word with his father and mother. Only Sam never came back once he did. Apparently his parents convinced him to climb in the car and drive back to Winston-Salem with them. I got all huffed up about it, muttering about how these guys talk with they’re heroes but blow us off when they fail. It’s a sore point for a lot of sportswriters, not just me. And truth is, Sam should have returned to face the music. I’m sure he’ll tell you so.
On the other hand, I’m also a parent. If Nate or Rebecca had been in the state I heard Sam was in, I would have probably done what Gary and Sheila Swank did. I remember Steve Shutt, Wake’s director of media relations, came through by getting Sam on the cell phone as they’re headed back down Highway 29, so we did have quotes in the game story. And except in special occasions, I’ve never been one to hold a grudge, particularly not against someone like Sam Swank. So I got over it all pretty quickly.
But it just so happened, I didn’t talk with Sam the final three games of the regular season. I wasn’t making a statement or anything, it’s just that he didn’t play a major role in any of the games. So when the Deacons were practicing for the Meineke Car Care Bowl I walked by Sam one day and realized we hadn’t talked since before Virginia. I tapped him on the shoulder pad and said `Sam, I haven’t spoken with you in awhile. Are we still O.K?’ He said `I was going to ask you the same thing.’ Thankfully the answer was yes. We were O.K. the rest of his career and we were really O.K. on Monday when I was able to wish him the best of luck in his pursuit to become a kicker in the NFL.