There I stood - thirty yards from determining my fate. Thirty yards from knowing whether I'd be allowed to live out my days in the Buckeye state or become a permanent social outcast, forced to enter the Kicker Relocation Program. Thirty yards from exorcising the demon that had consumed my soul for the past 364 days. All I had to do was concentrate. Block out the sea of Maze and Blue, the 110,000 Michigan fans packing the "Big House". Block out my Ohio State teammates, whose collective glares were drilling several dozen holes through my back. Block out the fact that my last kick against the Wolverines a year earlier had devastating results which followed me like a snarling wolf pack ever since. So when Michigan coach Bo Schembechler called a time out to try to "ice" me, which wasn't difficult, I took a moment to laugh, thinking, "how the hell did I end up here anyway?"