Trying to Get the Hang (Time) of It

It hangs somewhat solemnly in his locker: page forty-one, the front page of the sixth section of The Crimson's 1978 Registration Issue. Its message is clear, the headline boldly questioning, "So You Say You Can Punt?"

For senior Al MacMurray, the simplicity of that direct query captures the heart of his current Harvard football career. And every day, when he opens his locker to the Crimson jersey bearing No. 98, the same newspaper page with the same message stares him in the face.

MacMurray has no grand illusions about his answer to the punting question. He knows he is not a cannon-legged messiah here to save the Crimson charges and nail the coffin corner shut on grid-iron foes. He simply believes he can kick a football and little by little he has been erasing the question mark that shrouded the Harvard punting game in the preseason forecasts.

MacMurray came to Harvard from Melrose, N.Y., by way of Albany Academy, where he racked up 11 varsity seasons in interscholastic sports. He started for his high school football team as a fullback, linebacker and punter.

He's played football here for four years, moving through the freshman and J.V. teams. In 1976 and 1977 he paid dues on the varsity special teams, covering punts and kickoffs. But at last, this season, he has arrived at true varsity status as the starting punter. It is, for MacMurray, the big time.

Football goals: "My first goal was to play in the Stadium. I accomplished that pretty quickly. My second goal was to do something as an individual -- other than a special team. Now I've got that, too. There's nothing long-range, though. I take it week to week. I want to punt in the Yale game and punt well. But my job is just to get the ball and get it off as fast as I can.

When the season got underway, MacMurray was ready for his job, but not quite confident of his abilities. "That first game I was shaking in my boots, and the second game wasn't much better," he recalls. His statistics, however, with the help of some long rolls, don't reflect there was ever any lack of confidence.

In the Columbia game he lucked out with a 67-yard grounder. Six kicks for a 36.2-yard average on the day -- not a bad start. But MacMurray doesn't deal in averages. He says he remembers that the kicks were low, and two were especially wobbly, mediocre punts.

Against UMass, MacMurray again got a break. The Minutemen sent only one man deep, and No. 98 punted low shots into the wind which rolled away from the lone back. There were no returns, a couple of long rolls and a 35.5-yard average that day for Harvard's punter. Low-trajectory kicks again carried him to a 33.2-yard average in the Colgate game.

Joe Restic on line drives: "You can kick the ball 50 yards: but if it's a low, driving kick they might return it for 25 yards and it's just a 25-yard kick. Then you kick a high one only 35 yards; but that's where they catch it, and that's where it stays."

Hang time -- it's the key to the punting game, and both Restic and MacMurray know there's too little of it right now. "We lack a punting coach, per se," MacMurray says, explaining he works out alone, trying to improve his drop, heighten his extension and lengthen his hang time. But such an improvement takes time and concentration; and for MacMurray, that means solitude.

On solitude: "It's no problem kicking by myself. There's always little kids around who'll get balls for me. But one day I was off kicking -- this little kid came out of the bushes by the tennis courts. I thought he was gonna throw the ball back, but he just took off with it."

It's been hard work for MacMurray, and it hasn't been limited to the gridiron. In addition to football he works as an assistant manager of a clothing store in the Square. That's 20 hours a week sandwiched between football, classes and sleep. It makes for a nonstop day, but MacMurray says he likes to keep busy. He says that's when he's most productive.

Take Charge Guy

The man who hired him for his job, Bill Silverman, says he's not sure about MacMurray's kicking game, but he is certain about the economics major business abilities. In four weeks he promoted MacMurray from salesman to assistant manager. "He's perceptive. He takes command. He's just a very personable guy," Silverman says.

Restic also has nothing but praise for his punter, pointing out MacMurray's dedication toward trying for improvement. Yet MacMurray himself is as candid as anyone in assessing his own abilities. Sure he's averaging 35.0 yards per punt now -- the same average Jim Curry finished with last year -- but there's still the bad punts, the low ones that go 18 yards.

Satisfaction

"I'm just not satisfied yet. Situation-wise I've done alright. I've hit some big ones when we needed them. But in terms of overall kicking, it's just not there yet."

On satisfaction: "One time I'd just like to be able to walk away from a Saturday afternoon and say, 'Gee, I did alright. So far I haven't been able to do that. I've been down on myself."

He's fought the swirling Harvard stadium winds, a back injury that has put him in a brace for a part of every day, a schedule overloaded with commitments and the obscurity of being a punter who's no superstar -- just a guy who does his job.

Determination helped him nail down the starting job, carrying him through a neck-and-neck race with friend and fellow punter Scott Groper. But MacMurray says he plays football because he loves the game, and he's starting to get a return on his investment.

A parting character reference from the "My Three Sons" Department: "When people ask for my name I tell 'em MacMurray -- like in Fred. That way they spell it right."