BOB RYAN

Snappy answers

2/1/2002

EW ORLEANS - It's full disclosure time. I bring a bias to this discussion.

My prep school played single-wing football. The centers had names like Roger Colehower, Bob Ehret, and Jay Gefaell and they did all the snapping. All of it. They were 16- or 17-year-old kids who made one kind of snap to the tailback and another to the fullback. They snapped to the holder for placekicks and they snapped to the punter. And I don't recall any of them having any problems with any of it. If any of them had to snap only to a T-formation quarterback, they would have thought it was the equivalent of a day off.

The New England Patriots have three (3) snappers. What's up with that?

It's modern football, that's what. The center who does all the snaps has gone the way of the extra-inning complete game, the two-hand set shot, and the backhander.

I asked the two starting centers in Super Bowl XXXVI if either had ever thought of snapping for placekicks and punts, and each pulled a Maynard G. Krebs on me (''Work!?'').

''Ever since I've been a center,'' said the Patriots' Damien Woody, ''I have never long-snapped. Never.'' There was a quiver in his voice.

''But, I guess if I had to ... whatever they ask me to do, I'd do.''

Take it easy, Big Fella (6 feet 3 inches and 320ish, depending on the meal just eaten). You're very safe. They've got someone for the job.

''I'm really not very good at that,'' wailed St. Louis center Andy McCollum. ''I've tried to do a few over the years, but I'm just not very good at it.''

McCollum has a ready excuse. He has been moved all over the line throughout his career and ''this is the first time I've played the same position two years in a row.''

McCollum at least does the shotgun snapping. The Patriots can't trust Woody to do even that. New England's shotgun snapper is Mike Compton, a nine -year veteran who slides over from guard when the occasion warrants.

''I have it on my resume that I've been able to long-snap since high school,'' Compton reported. ''The guy who taught me, I don't know whether I should slap him or thank him. It is a valuable skill to have.''

The downside for Compton is time management.

''You always have to be out early,'' he said. ''And you have to stay for special teams meetings. I'm either missing the first 15 minutes of an offensive linemen meeting or hurrying up and dressing quickly.''

The actual long snappers on these teams reflect the bastard nature of their circumstance. The St. Louis long snapper is 31-year-old Jeff Robinson, whose story places him firmly in the mainstream of the snapping world. He is a legitimate player, a defensive end turned tight end, who actually does things other than snap. He is 6-4, 275, and is on St. Louis's depth chart at tight end. Astute Patriots fans will recall that he made a 22-yard reception in the Rams' Nov. 18 conquest at Foxboro Stadium. He is proud of being a player.

''I actually think I could make the team as a tight end,'' he said.

Maybe he could, and maybe he couldn't, but he's not completely delusional. He does admit that long snapping is his trump card and could conceivably keep him employed in the NFL for many years to come.

''I got into long snapping back in college,'' he said. ''A coach told me, `This will help you make an NFL team.'''

Now meet Lonie Paxton, one of the more unusual long snappers in the league. For one thing, he is only 23. For another, he got into this because he wanted to, not because he had to.

''My father had season tickets to the Rams,'' said the Anaheim, Calif., native. ''I'd watch the snapper and say, `Throwing a spiral through your legs. That's cool. I could do that.'''

And he did. He did all the snapping for Centennial High School in Corona, Calif., and again at Sacramento State, where he also was a starting offensive lineman. Like thousands of thick-legged/thick-necked young men across this great land of ours, he dreamed of being an NFL lineman. And he might have been - 25 years ago. But there is simply no call for a 260-pound offensive lineman in the modern game.

''I always dreamed of being an offensive lineman in the NFL,'' he said with a sigh. ''These guys are all 6-6 and 320.''

The Patriots signed him as a free agent following the 2000 draft. He played in all 16 games last season and has played in all 18 this season. He snaps, therefore he is. He is also averaging a tackle a year.

His daily practice routine is, by his own account, ''snap, snap, snap. Practice with Ken [Walter, the holder], and then punt with the team. I probably make 150-300 snaps a day.''

He takes understandable pride in what he does. In his mind, there is no excuse for a bad snap, no matter what the conditions and circumstance.

''I'm my hardest critic,'' he said. ''If I snap it low, even if the holder does a good job to get the ball in place, I feel bad. I'll think that I didn't hold up my one-third of the deal.''

He also said the snaps to Walter for the two Adam Vinatieri field goals in the snow game against Oakland were no big deal.

''I really didn't feel the pressure,'' he said. ''I just tried to do my job, what I do every day in practice. You have a mental picture of what you want the snap to look like.''

So why don't today's centers do what prep school kids routinely did 40 years ago? Shouldn't a center, well, you know, center?

The general theory is that centers get so banged up in their hands and arms that it would be unrealistic to ask them to long-snap. But there is something else.

''It's become a skill position,'' Compton noted. ''You've got to snap, and then you've got to get down the field and cover.''

''You've got to be a decent athlete to be a long snapper,'' Robinson declared. ''Centers could never handle this.''

(Damien and Andy: He said that; I didn't.)

As with a good official, a snapper knows it's been a good game if no one remembers he was even in it. Paxton says the last time he sailed one over a punter's head was in high school. Robinson admits to a bouncer on a placement that prompted the query, ''Was that supposed to be a fake?'' Then he added, ''Frankly, I really don't like talking about it.''

They've already talked more than they do all year long, and they want no more of it. Being ignored by the media means the snapper has done his job. If any of us are talking to either of them on Sunday night, the conversation will not be pleasant.

Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is ryan@globe.com.