The Cognitive Climb

Harvey Dorfman once said, “Who you are is what you do when no one’s watching.” I understood that who I would become would be uncovered from what I did in the dark or, in my case, on “the couch.” 

In 2022, I was back in the dark, on the street, or “the couch” for the 11th time. You would think at this point I would have learned how to stay off it. Or maybe you’re wondering how I was able to get signed so many times. 

If you know anything about professional kickers, you know that things are a circus at times. It’s a cutthroat position with little room for error. Kickers are hired and fired at the drop of a hat. Sometimes you’re on the merry go-round of Tuesday free agent workouts and other times you couldn’t catch a break if God himself called a GM to vouch for you.  

I found myself on the latter end of that scenario more times than I’d like to admit. I carried a suspended belief that things weren’t as bad as they seemed and that I’d get my shot—a 12th shot—at playing professional football. Boy, did I master that suspended belief.  

The belief in myself was rooted in something real, though. It was the work I did in the dark that built the confidence that no one could take from me. There is no doubt that my belief was built and sustained through challenging practice and preparation.  

I used to promise my wife, “I just need one.” One workout, one chance, one more flight to a new city to prove I can still do this. I thought I could still solve all my—I mean our—problems with my foot. We were in this together. I knew that when opportunity called, preparation would answer. I’d average one call from an NFL team a year, so this is what it looked like to bet the house in the pursuit of a professional career. I’d tell her, “I’ll see you when I see you because I’m winning this workout.” 

Promises are one thing. Actions and results are another. The way I kept both was through my ability to properly prepare for what I’d be tasked with in a workout or game. As kickers, our job is to come onto the field on 4th down, with one shot to knock down the attempt. There are no redos and we don’t get to choose when we kick, where we kick, what the wind is doing, the score or situation. 

I needed to bear the weight of that challenge and pressure in my training, so I knew what to expect when the lights came on. My preparation was the one thing I still had control over. How prepared was I to perform in these moments? 

Through 18 years of kicking, I’ve learned there is a difference between mindlessly ripping reps and mindfully taking each rep like it’s the most important one you’ll take. It’s about quality over quantity. Two very different training focuses with one identical swing on a ball. Quality practice is tedious and time consuming, but I believed it was my ticket to the 12th contract. 

So, I embarked on the pursuit of becoming the king of quality practice.

What does that mean? From an outsider’s perspective, it would look like someone running onto the field every 2-3 minutes to take a kick. But it’s more than that. It’s getting to a space where you can effectively visualize where you’ve been, or could be, one rep at a time. It’s the one rep at a time that’s key. I was preparing for what I’d think and do during the 30 seconds as I ran out onto the field, having to execute in this wind, at this hash and distance, in this made-up scenario I was skillfully playing out in my mind. It’s working your routine and learning what it could feel like if it was actually real. Like if this kick had to go in, right here and right now. 

Digest the make or miss, then reset the scene and do it all over again.

For free agent kickers, the quote at the beginning really should read, “Who you are is what you do when everyone’s watching.” Be that the eyes of a GM, special teams coordinator, teammates, or fans in the stands, eventually everyone will be watching when it counts. Am I preparing for that moment? On the street no one would watch, often no one with me, only I knew if I had the quality practice to prepare me for what’s ahead. 

I’d train like this with each passing week of the NFL season, having no doubt that I was ready and maintaining my suspended belief that things would work out. Money was tight but my ability to do the job was still there. I never shared this with anyone but by Monday of week 5 of the season, I had applied to over 20 part-time jobs trying to make ends meet. From substitute teaching positions to pet sitting. I didn’t care. I was desperate to buy more time to let my work done in the dark come to light.

By Tuesday the calls for these part-time jobs started flowing in. Many of them were listed as California numbers looking for more information and when I could start working. 

As a free agent kicker, you shamelessly answer every call with hope.

By the end of the day, I was sick of answering the phone. What the hell was I thinking applying to that many jobs? It probably had to do with the fact that it was so hard to get the one job I really wanted. 

That same day around 6:30 pm, my wife and I were sitting on the couch at our breaking point, trying to figure out what’s next. Another call from California comes in. I gave her a look of ‘should I even answer this?’ Frustrated, I picked up the phone, “Yeah, hello?” Only to hear an excited voice, “Hi Taylor, this is JoJo Wooden with the LA Chargers. How are you?” It was opportunity calling preparation. A chance for light to come out of the darkness. The moment to test my quality of practice and how prepared I was to perform. The one-way ticket I’d been praying for. 

I signed that Wednesday and kicked in my first regular season NFL game that Sunday against the Cleveland Browns. I was still getting calls about part-time jobs hours before kickoff. I didn’t answer those calls, but I’d be forced to answer one late in the 4th quarter against the Browns. A short field goal to take the lead and potentially win the game. I’ve seen this play out. It was alone on a field in New Jersey. I haven’t been here before, but I’ve been here before. 

One attempt. One kick. Right here, right now. Fuck it. I’m ready.

I sunk it like every other kick I made that day. I was presented the game ball post-game in the locker room and was celebrated for being the new guy who helped the team win a tough road game. So many dreams came true at once. Looking back, I know one thing for sure: I’m glad I wasn’t willing to meet that moment with quantity reps alone. 

So, I’ll leave you all with this: How are you separating yourself in your preparation? What’s your edge? What would it look like to have more quality preparation in your own life? What are you doing that’s preparing you to perform when your own lights come on?

P.S. I never saw myself or my training as superior to anyone else. This was the mindset that helped me keep my edge. Stories like this are the reality for guys who are still “on the couch” trying to make it in the NFL.