Rapid City native and former Central Cobbler Adam Vinatieri's game-winning kick while playing for the Patriots against the Oakland Raiders in the 2002 Snow Bowl.

It was the end of practice. It wasn’t like it mattered, but Taylor Houchin was frustrated. A slight wind? The setting sun in his face? A distraction from the sidelines? His kick had plenty of distance, but it drifted right, just outside the goal posts at North Middle School.

Taylor hates kicking practice. He plays safety on defense, and either quarterback or running back during offensive drills. By the time kicking comes around he’s exhausted. Kicking adds another twenty minutes to afternoons that are already too long.

He keeps telling his coaches that he doesn’t even want to be the kicker. If he had wanted to kick, he would have stuck with soccer. When he was a freshman and sophomore, it was a way to get on the field and contribute. Now, well…he’s stuck with the job.

Central’s head coach Trent Pikula smiles across his desk and nods. “He doesn’t spend a lot of time kicking. We have to tell him, ‘Taylor, go kick’”

Taylor Houchin wants to be at the center of the action, not out on the edge of the game. He never wanted to be the skinny kicker who linebackers roll their eyes at sitting on the corner of the bench, waiting for that one fleeting do-or-die moment when a kicker takes the field.

Like most good running backs, Taylor likes to hit people. “People don’t see it from the way I run.” He told me recently. “I’m kind of shifty. But I love contact. If I weighed 225, I’d run over people.”

That’s the rub. Taylor has the heart of a fullback and the attitude of a linebacker, but the 175-pound body of a high school running back who has spent his whole career in the shadow of players who are just a little bit bigger, a little bit stronger, or a little bit faster. High school has been a four-year struggle just to be recognized.

Except for his leg. The kid’s got a golden leg.

He smiles sheepishly when he describes his predicament. “I’m not really that interested in kicking. But it has always been just a natural thing for me to kick a ball.”

Taylor started playing soccer when he was four, and played on competitive club teams for ten years. “I never played at Central.” He told me. “But a lot of my best friends are on the soccer team. I remember that I didn’t really want to play football in the seventh grade. But my dad said, ‘Give it a shot.’ So I played midget football. I was on the best team in the city, with Coach (Mike) Purcell. I remember the first time I broke a run open, and scored a touchdown. It felt so amazing. From then on I had more of a love for football. I knew I wanted to play varsity football…under the lights.”

Taylor Houchin runs the option against Sioux Falls Lincoln earlier this fall. (Photo Kevin Cox/IDS)

So there he was a few weeks ago, on the practice field at North Middle School, surrounded by his teammates, suffering through kicking practice. Kick a few from one distance, and then move back. Kick a few more, and move back. It was tedious, and besides, he felt like he had to figure everything out on his own. No one on the coaching staff was much help.

“None of us has ever kicked. None of us coaches on staff can help him.” Pikula said. “So he’s never had anyone sit down with him and say, ‘Here’s the technique’. He just muscles himself through the ball.”

As usual, the coaches and the rest of the team were standing around watching. “I was frustrated and thinking about why the kick had gone wide right. But I could hear the coaches and players talking. So I asked one of the coaches… ‘How far was that kick, anyway?’”

“63 yards.” The coach answered…the exact distance of the NFL field goal record.

63 frickin’ yards–for a high school field goal kicker who weighs only 175 pounds?…for a kicker who’s never taken a lesson or been to a kicking camp?…for a kicker who’s not even interested in what he’s doing?

Only nine kickers have ever made a field goal in a game from beyond 60 yards. Taylor Houchin’s got a big time college leg, and an eighth grade interest.

Make no mistake. He’s raw. He’s untrained. But imagine how good could he be if he was actually interested?

Taylor Houchin kicks a field goal against Sturgis earlier this season. (Photo Kevin Cox/IDS)

I first saw Taylor play against Douglas High School a month ago. He was dominant at running back. But then again, it was Douglas, so it wasn’t clear what “dominant” really amounted to. What I remembered most about his performance was the fact that he drove every kickoff into the end zone (and a few out the back end). It was just a footnote in the game. It wasn’t what he wanted to be remembered for. But let’s face facts…at Nebraska, or Alabama, or Texas, a kid who can consistently put a kickoff in the end zone, and keep it out of the hands of a 4.3 sprinter, gets a free ride to college for four years.

Against Mitchell three weeks ago, Taylor ran for 250 yards. He flashed speed and power beyond his size. He ran with a ferocious heart. He intercepted a pass from his safety position. It was a spectacular high school performance, but what I remember from the game wasn’t a breakaway run, it was his second quarter field goal. 48 yards…with ten to spare. 48 yards…right down the chute.

It was the kind of kick that makes Division-1 college coaches smile.

___________________________

A Career in the Shadows

Who can blame Taylor Houchin for wanting to bask in the glow of being Central’s star running back. He spent his first three years waiting in the shadows.

For two years he waited behind Jake Sharp, and the way things looked at the end of last season, he expected to wait again this year. Desperate to find a way to get Taylor’s athleticism on the field, Coach Pikula encouraged him to work out at quarterback. But then Jake Sharp transferred to St. Thomas More, and after only a few days, dropped out of school altogether. In the flash of a few weeks, Houchin began to see his senior year in a whole new light.

“Part of the reason I love this season so much is getting away from the Jake Sharp shadow.” Taylor explained. “Last year everything was about Jake Sharp, and this year we already have more wins than all of last season. We have more of a team identity this year rather than a single person. And also, for me personally, I was in his shadow. He was a great football player, but I never had a chance to show what I could do until this year.”

“Taylor has never been the kid who will be in the limelight, ever, until this year.” Coach Pikula told me recently. “We put a lot on his shoulders this year. Originally we thought he was going to be the quarterback. And as a QB, he wasn’t very good. He’s a good athlete, but he doesn’t throw well. He runs. That’s what he does well.”

This season, Houchin leads the Cobblers in rushing yards, touchdowns, points and interceptions. (Photo Kevin Cox/IDS)

“I think he realized that the natural part of him being an athlete wasn’t good enough. He needed to make himself bigger, faster, stronger, so he really took it upon himself after last year to hit the weight room hard. He’s been very disciplined about getting in the weight room.”

The football field isn’t the only place Taylor has emerged from the shadows this year. He has also broken through a cocoon of indifference about his schoolwork. “In middle school I was a goof off.” He confesses. “That’s just the way I was. And then I came out of it in high school. I’m beginning to realize a lot of things now that I wish I had done differently. But that’s the past, and I’m just trying to go forward now. My English class is really fun, and last year I loved anatomy class. It was awesome. I’ve never thought about a career in medicine before. I just took the anatomy class for an extra science credit, and I loved it. It made me curious about whether that’s where I might end up. That’s the kind of stuff that stuck with me because I really enjoyed it, and I was good at it.”

“I think what made the light go on was that I finally realized this is my senior year. I just decided I might as well go out giving everything I’ve got. It started with football, and then at school as well, I knew I needed to mature, so that if I ever got the opportunity to play in college, I needed the academic grades.”

It’s all a part of growing up. But even as he matures on and off the field, the one piece that hasn’t yet fallen in place is Taylor’s refusal to come to grips with the power of his leg, and what it could mean for him.

Central High School participates in an Internet video service that allows coaches can exchange game videos from week to week. Pikula encourages his players to use the service to edit their own highlight videos and make them available to college coaches. “Taylor made a video,” Coach Pikula told me. “It shows off his running skills. Maybe it has a few defensive plays. I don’t think he put a single kick on the video.”

After the Roosevelt game in Sioux Falls last weekend, Taylor tagged along with a teammate who had scheduled recruiting visits to several east river colleges. Taylor stood in the shadow, and shared his aspirations when the coaches asked. He talked about how dedicated he was to running, how committed he was to lifting weights and making himself stronger. He never mentioned his kicking. Finally, one coach asked, “Are you the kid who hit the 48 yard field goal?”

“Yes.” Taylor answered, more defeated than exhilarated.

“He came in to talk to me last week when he was recovering from the concussion, and we talked about college.” Coach Pikula told me. “I said, ‘You’re a fool if you don’t put yourself out there as a kicker first.’ I talked about Adam Vinatieri. He was a famous, great QB here at Central, and a defensive back. But he wasn’t going to play QB in college. Then there was the kid from Aberdeen who kicked at the University of Wisconsin; he was the starting QB at Aberdeen Central. But he was never going to play QB in college, so he put his kicking out there. He even kicked in the NFL a little bit.”

“I basically told Taylor, ‘If you’re going to play college football, it’s going to be as a kicker. If you want to sit for four years and be a redshirt freshman, and get some playing time as a redshirt senior, maybe you could do that. But as a kicker, you could probably play as a freshman anywhere you want to go.’”

Sitting at lunch together, my questions have Taylor maneuvered into a corner. He’s talking about how much he loves the University of Nebraska, how he’d give his right arm to play at the University of Wyoming. His eyes sparkle when he talks about big time D-1 football. “So here’s the question.” I tell him. “Would you rather be a second string running back at a D-2 college studying anatomy, or a kicker at Nebraska on your way to making a few million dollars in the NFL as a kicker?”

He grimaces. I can see him struggling with the choice ahead. “Yeah…that’s really tough for me.”

Taylor has struggled so hard, with such determination, to break out of the shadow as a running back. Everyone from coaches to old reporters is chipping at him about kicking. No one seems to understand what really drives him. No one seems to appreciate why he loves football. It’s the crunch of the collision, not the technique of a kick.

There is, of course, one person who does understand what Taylor is going through, one person in the world who knows on a very personal level what it means to be a star quarterback at Central High School and then make a new path for himself as a kicker—Adam Vinatieri. Wednesday afternoon I spoke with Vinatieri from Colts headquarters in Indianapolis. His advise to Houchin was not what you might think.

Adam Vinatieri celebrates a game-winning kick for the Indianapolis Colts.

“I always tell kids, ‘Have fun.’ If you’re having fun, you’ll have no regrets.’ If that means playing at a small school as a running back, instead of trying to go to a bigger school, then do it. There are a lot of 175-pound running backs in the first year of college. The important thing is that whatever Taylor does should make him happy.”

“He’s in a situation where you shouldn’t believe everything that people tell you. If you do that, you’ll never do anything in life. I had a lot of people tell me I couldn’t make it as a kicker. I never believed anything anyone said. I just believed in myself. I wasn’t willing to give up my dream and my goal.”

When Vinatieri enrolled at South Dakota State University in 1991, it was a small Division-2 school. He was the third string quarterback, behind a sophomore. He was also the kicker. “I dreamed of playing in the NFL.” Vinatieri told me. “But I had no idea how realistic that was. I wanted to get my schooling paid for because I wanted to become a doctor if football didn’t work out.”

“If Taylor loves playing running back, but also focuses in on kicking, that doesn’t necessarily mean giving up on your dream. At the end of the day, if he wants to go to a place like the University of Wyoming, and he can get a scholarship to be a kicker, and it’s more important to get your schooling paid for than what position you play, then he probably ought to go and kick. Then once you get there, keep working, and all of a sudden you impress the strength and conditioning coach in the weight room. And you go and say, ‘Hey, when I’m not kicking balls, I want to run some scout team running back.’ And they say, ‘Hey, this kid is really good.’ At 175 pounds, you can be at 200 in one year in college because you eat a lot and you lift a lot. The fact that he’s a 4.5 guy, that’s not slow. You can develop that. You can get bigger and faster.”

“So, number one, I’m saying, go get your education. Number two, go and have fun playing football. It doesn’t matter if you are at the Division-3 level or a Division-1 huge school. Football is fun no matter where you’re at.”

_______________________

On Thursday night, when Central and Stevens are locked in a close game, you can bet your last dollar that Taylor Houchin will be in the thick of the battle. The game may hinge on a breakaway run. It may hinge on a swing pass out of the backfield. Or, it may hinge on a 50-yard field goal.

Put yourself in Trent Pikula’s shoes: fourth-and-three on the Stevens forty; with the game (and the season) on the line. Does Pikula run Taylor off tackle, behind big Aaron Beaird? Or does he try a 55-yard field goal?

This is the moment that every high school football player dreams of. There are no more shadows. There is only the spotlight of center stage…well earned.

“I hope the best for him,” said Vinatieri. “The more South Dakota kids who get out there and show what we can do, the better…Go Cobblers.”

“If the game was on the line Thursday night.” Pikula told me without a split second of hesitation. “I would feel comfortable putting him out there to kick a 55-yard field goal. I think he could make it. I have no doubt in my mind.”

If you make it, Taylor…add it to your highlight video.