FOXBOROUGH -- Larry Izzo may never have read the inscription on the lintel at the entrance to the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in Greece but he could have written it.
It was there, the ancient Greek historian Plutarch claimed, that one of the most famous maxims was inscribed: "Know thyself." It is a phrase attributed to at least five Greek philosophers, including Socrates. No one claims Izzo ever said it himself, but he's certainly lived it, which is why 11 years after entering the NFL as an undersized, undrafted rookie out of Rice University he's still hauling down a paycheck for hauling down kick returners who are always faster and often bigger than he is.
It is a young man's job, many would say, for there are few 11-year veterans still found throwing their bodies into 1,000-pound wedges of moving blockers, but then again there are not that many 11-year veterans period, so Izzo is unique simply for having survived so long. What makes him unique even among the unique though, is the fact that he has played in 154 regular-season games and 15 more in the playoffs and never started a single one.
For many that would prove too daunting a mental exercise. The ego would get involved at some point and it would play tricks on you, arguing internally against your self interest, demanding an expanded role be found for your skills. Not long after that, the wheels of football unemployment would begin to roll and the player who does not know himself would be gone.
Larry Izzo remains.
"The way I came into the league it was pretty easy to accept," the 32-year-old Izzo said last week while discussing his role as kingpin of the Patriots' kick coverage teams between trips to the masseuse and the cold tub that keep his dented body operational. "I knew as an undrafted rookie that the best way to make the team was in the kicking game. I found a niche. I welcome that role. I don't resent it. Maybe that's the most important thing.
"After 11 years, I understand my role in this league. Do you get frustrated at times? I'm not going to lie to you. Yeah. But I can't say I lose a lot of sleep over it. I know I'm not a Tedy Bruschi or a Junior Seau. A lot of young guys waste a lot of energy not concentrating on the role they have to play, but worrying about the role they don't play. Some focus too much on not being comfortable playing primarily in the kicking game. Pretty soon they're on the street."
The role Izzo has played has not often been a starring one, but rather one of best supporting actor. Even as an unknown rookie in Miami in 1996 he made an impact, blocking three punts and finishing second on Jimmy Johnson's Dolphins with 10 special-teams tackles. It was enough to make him a first alternate on the AFC Pro Bowl team, an All-Pro in the pages of Football Digest, and a member of several all-rookie teams.
A year later however, Izzo suffered the most serious injury of his career, a torn left Achilles' tendon in a preseason practice that sidelined him for the year. For a player like him, one from whom little was expected when he arrived in the NFL, it would have been easy to disappear. Instead he came back the following season and made 10 tackles on special teams in 13 games before tearing up his right knee and again finishing the year on injured reserve.
Was this to be a trend? If so, it would not be a long one because players who cannot stay on the field are soon permanently asked to leave it. Izzo understood this, as he seems to have always understood his circumstances, and through a blend of hard work, steely aggressiveness, and some luck, he has missed exactly one game since, playing in 125 of his last 126 regular-season games. Such reliability of body and mind is one reason Izzo has the second-most special-teams tackles in league history at 224, trailing only Buffalo's Mark Pike (283). It is an enviable record for a guy playing a most unenviable position.
It is not easy to run downfield at breakneck speed year after year, time after time avoiding men looking to behead him or engaging their blocks and then shedding them in time to throw himself into a fast-moving train wreck called a punt or kick returner. Yet it is an art Izzo mastered long ago and never has forsaken nor tried to deny.
It is a journeyman's role some might say, but it is his role and one few have ever played as well as this bantam rooster of a man. Although far from physically imposing, Izzo is as solid as a steel girder and about as malleable. At 5 foot 10 inches (yeah sure), Izzo has often been the shortest linebacker in the league but that is something he thinks of about as often as he thinks about a need to change his circumstances -- which is to say not at all.
"All I ever wanted to do was play professional football," Izzo admitted. "Since I was 4 or 5, playing in the backyard with my father and my brothers. All I wanted was an opportunity.
"I didn't expect to be drafted because of my size and the school I was coming from. Rice is not a place known for No. 1 draft choices. But that all benefited me. My approach when I got my chance in Miami was to be very hungry. Every play I was trying to show I belonged here. Eleven years later, that's still my approach. You sit and watch people on film at linebacker and sometimes you think, 'I can do that, too.' You have to catch yourself when that starts to happen because if you begin to fixate on that kind of thinking pretty soon you're not getting your job done.
"We all have pride and confidence in our ability or we wouldn't be in this league, but when those things creep into your mind you have to be disciplined enough to ignore them. You remind yourself you have a job and you don't make the decisions so just do your job. Look, I understand my role, but it's a balancing act. You don't want to tell a guy not to have [higher] goals. You want a guy to be confident he can play but you don't want to outsmart yourself and think you're better than you are. That can be a problem when you're in your fourth, fifth or sixth year and you're looking to expand your role. After 10 years, you accept this is what you do. You don't see many guys becoming a starter in their 11th season."
Yet for all the difficulties and frustrations of spending a career covering kicks, Izzo has made the most of it. He has been to the Pro Bowl three times (2000, 2002, 2004), won three Super Bowl rings, become a legend among his peers, and made more tackles at full speed than all but one man ever to play his position. As a legacy goes, it's not bad for a guy who came out of Rice hoping just to get to run down the field one time and hit somebody before they hit him.
"A lot of guys don't want to admit it but the fear is not about getting hurt," Izzo said of his job. "The fear is getting embarrassed. Nobody wants to have that happen to them. What you fear is not getting the job done. Not getting off blocks. Not making the tackle. It's going to happen sometimes, but you have to minimize it.
"It needs to hurt when you don't do well. It needs to devastate you when you don't do well. That's the passion I carry. I've been blessed to be in this position. To play with some of the greatest players who ever played in some of the biggest games and to make plays in those games. Football is a tough, physical game of aggression. Those are the things that categorize my personality. I can't imagine being involved in another profession. This is what I know. When it's over I think I'd like to get into coaching, if my family is willing to make the sacrifice. It's not like I'm going to be going into the insurance business."
For 11 years, Izzo has willingly been in a business for which you cannot buy insurance. The high-speed chase business of covering kicks in the NFL and it's still his aim. That and never forgetting what was written on the lintel at the Temple of Apollo oh so long ago.
Ron Borges can be reached at borges@globe.com. ![]()