October 12, 2006

A punt from the past
Missouri high school successfully revives the long-lost art of drop kicking a football.

By J. BRADY McCOLLOUGH
The Kansas City Star

NEVADA, Mo. | Tuesday afternoon’s practice is about half over when Nevada High football coach John Skeans calls for the special teams unit.

This is where most teams would start to get lazy, bored with the monotony of practicing place-kicking, punting and returns every single day.

But something odd is happening down here in Nevada, about 90 miles south of Kansas City off Highway 71. These Tigers can’t wait to start the special teams’ portion of practice.

“All right, guys,” Skeans says, “this is trips-right-pinch-drop kick.”

Nevada quarterback Ronnie Herda is lined up 7 1/2 yards behind the line in shotgun. He has two receivers to his right and left.

“Set, go!” Herda yells, and the ball is snapped. As the pads and helmets click in front of him, Herda takes one step and drops the ball to the ground. He swings his right leg, connecting the instant it bounces. The ball soars through the air, splitting the uprights, a perfectly executed drop kick.

The linemen and receivers whoop and holler and raise their hands in the air, signaling a good kick.

“Move him back!” they plead to Skeans, wanting more.

Drop kicking has become the new rage for the Tigers. Ever since Herda made his first drop kick against Carthage on Sept. 22, it’s been easier for Nevada to forget its 2-4 record. The team practices drop kicks for 10 minutes each practice.

“It’s the most fun we’ve had all year,” says Dan Lovinger, a junior wide receiver.

Nevada asked the Missouri State High School Activities Association when the state’s last drop kick was executed. The MSHSAA hasn’t been able to pinpoint an exact moment, so it’s likely that those involved could have been wearing leather helmets with no facemasks.

Of course, Doug Flutie made one last year with the Patriots in a meaningless late-season game, which created quite a stir. Flutie’s drop kick was the first in the NFL since 1941.

Over the history of Missouri high school football, thousands of coaches and quarterbacks probably could have combined to pull it off. So why here and why now has the drop kick returned?

Well, you’d just have to know Ronnie Herda and John Skeans.

•••

Take in a football practice anywhere, and odds are, you’ll see a kid try a drop kick at some point. It’s something to pass the time, a chance to create a laugh among friends, but very rarely is it actually taken seriously.

Herda tried it for the first time his freshman year. He was bad, just like everyone else who tried it.

“We didn’t know if he’d ever make one,” says Jared Alexander, a junior lineman. “He was kicking a lot of us in the back when we were blocking for him up there.”

Of course, there was a reason they stopped drop kicking in the NFL in 1934. The league, wanting to encourage the forward pass, changed the ball from rugby-shaped and spherical to more pointed on the ends. This made it difficult for the ball to bounce back correctly for the drop kick.

But that didn’t matter to Ronnie. He wasn’t accustomed to being bad at something. He’d always been one of the best athletes in town, no matter what the sport, and he even taught himself how to play the guitar and drums. Ronnie was going to learn to drop kick.

“Everything he’s tried,” says Carrie Hewitt, his mother, “he has pretty much mastered.”

So while everyone else forgot about drop kicking, Ronnie kept at it. By his sophomore year, when he was chosen the team’s starting quarterback, he had become an adept drop kicker. He talked to Skeans about drop-kicking in a game. Skeans considered it, but Ronnie broke his right foot in the homecoming game before they had a chance. He was out for the season.

Once his foot had healed, Ronnie continued to practice the kick. During defensive sessions of practice, he’d attempt as many as he could while the team managers played fetch. By the start of this season, he had it just about perfected.

•••

Jim McMahon, quarterback of the Super Bowl XX Champion Chicago Bears, wanted to drop kick in a game. Coach Mike Ditka simply wouldn’t allow it.

When Herda first approached Skeans about it, Skeans was skeptical. He asked Herda to show him he could make 10 in a row. Herda got close enough that he got the wheels churning in Skeans’s head.

The truth was that, going into this season, Nevada had lost its place-kicker from the last two seasons. And with Skeans’s innovative shotgun spread offense, the Tigers were going to go for two points more often than not. Why not use Herda’s newfound skill to keep opposing teams guessing whether he was going to run, pass or drop kick?

Skeans, 36, is in his third season as head coach at Nevada. He’s taken a program drilled in smashmouth, wishbone football and turned it into one of the most prolific passing offenses in the state. Entering this week’s games, Herda is fifth in the state in passing with 1,291 yards.

Skeans, a former quarterback at Ozark, is the type of coach that kids love. If they have an idea that will help the team and put points on the board, he’ll listen. Sure, the four losses hurt, but Skeans wants to make sure the Class 3A Tigers are having fun above all else.

“I think most coaches would see a kid drop kicking and say he’s just messing around,” says Lovinger, “but Coach Skeans, if it’s possible, he’ll let us do it. And Ronnie showed he could do it.”

•••

The key to a successful drop kick is the actual drop. If it is off to the right or left by as much as a half-inch, you might as well not even kick. Then there’s the coordination it takes to begin the leg swing, drop the ball and kick it as soon as it hits the ground, all in one motion. Throw in 11 guys on the other team crashing the line of scrimmage, and it’s a handful.

Luckily, Nevada has Ronnie Herda.

“If I could choose anyone to do anything in any athletic sport,” Lovinger says, “it would be Ronnie.”

On the night of Sept. 22 in Nevada, the Tigers trailed 4A power Carthage 42-6 near the end of the first quarter. Nevada scored a touchdown, making it 42-12 with 23 seconds left. Herda came to the sideline and motioned to his leg. Skeans agreed. What did they have to lose?

To that point, Nevada had only gone for two, and that’s what Carthage expected. Before the game, Skeans notified the officials that Herda may perform a drop kick. So when the Tigers lined up in shotgun yet again, referee Johnny Roberson was ready.

Herda took the snap, and before Carthage could even realize what had happened, the ball was flying over their heads through the uprights. Carthage was stunned. It was 42-13, but why did it feel like they were suddenly losing?

The Tigers mobbed Herda and ran off the field, celebrating. The Nevada student section was jumping up and down. Roberson and his crew got together and shook their heads. Unbelievable.

“The kick itself was as good as any placekick I’ve ever seen for a high-school kid,” Roberson says. “It didn’t just make it over the upright; it was boomed through there, and it was very accurate. It wasn’t a fluke.”

In the stands, Carrie Hewitt, Ronnie’s mother, didn’t know what had happened. But soon, it was announced over the loudspeaker as a drop kick. And an amazing thing happened. The Nevada and Carthage crowds both gave Herda and the Tigers a standing ovation.

Everyone — the players, the coaches, the officials and the fans — realized they were a part of history.

“In 40 years of officiating, I’ve never seen it,” Roberson says. “I’m proud to be a part of it.”

But not as proud as the Tigers. Suddenly, Ronnie Herda’s name could be put in the same sentence as football legend Jim Thorpe, a skilled drop kicker in his day.

“It didn’t really hit me till after the game,” says Herda, who now is three out of five. “It was a lost art, and we’re bringing it back.”

The week after, the Nevada JV team played in Carthage. They noticed that a couple of Carthage players were practicing drop kicking.

Together on Tuesday, Herda and Skeans share a laugh. It’s been a crazy few weeks.

“Hopefully,” Herda says, “we’re starting a trend.”

Every week, Kansas City Star reporter J. Brady McCollough will take a look at a unique aspect of the high school football community. To submit a story idea, e-mail McCollough at jmccollough@kcstar.com.

 

 


J. Brady McCollough - jbrady@coveringsports.com (email) - 816-868-2621 (cell)