Boston.com / Sports / Bruins

That special something

Izzo made sure he stood out from rest of crowd

By Jim McCabe, Globe Staff, 2/4/2002

EW ORLEANS - There were dozens of stories beneath the roof of the Superdome last night, tales of unexpected success and fulfilled promises for men who share a passion for football. We pick up Larry Izzo's story during his first NFL training camp, 1996 with the Miami Dolphins:

''It was after our second preseason game, against Chicago,'' said Izzo, ''and coach [Jimmy] Johnson was speaking to the club. `There's only one guy who has made the team, and that's that guy.' He was pointing to No. 13, Dan Marino, so we knew Jimmy was keeping us motivated, because obviously Marino had made the team.''

Onward rolled the film, Johnson picking out things he liked and things he didn't like, until there came a kick return. Then a punt return. Then a kick return. Sitting in the film room, Izzo kept watching himself show up on the film.

''I keep making plays and Johnson stops the film and says, `Forget what I said. Izzo, where you from?'''

''Texas.''

''Is that where your parents are?''

Izzo nodded and Johnson said: ''Call 'em tonight. Tell 'em you made this football team. Now we've got two guys. We need 51 more.''

The story is a pleasant reminder of the most improbable journey traveled by Izzo, the Patriots' special teams captain who last night reached the pinnacle of his profession with a 20-17 victory over the Rams in Super Bowl XXXVI. An undrafted player out of a college (Rice) hardly known for its football prowess, Izzo was the longest of long shots from the start, introduced to his slim chance by an amateurish, homemade game film. Which is where his NFL story actually starts.

''A family friend ran into me right after I had graduated and asked about my plans,'' said Izzo. ''I wasn't sure at the time, so she mentioned to me that she was an old friend of a guy who coached with the Dolphins and she'd ask him to look at film of me.''

With great haste and primitive technology, Izzo put together a film with some of his highlights from his three years at Rice. He sent it to Mike Westhoff, then the special teams coach with Miami, and a few days later the phone rang.

''Who the hell made this film?'' barked Westhoff. Izzo nearly melted, thinking he had made a fool of himself. But Westhoff was talking about the quality of film - it was grainy - not the quality of play on the film, and he ended the conversation with an invitation to training camp.

''When I got [to camp], I saw, first of all they draft Zach Thomas,'' said Izzo. ''I played against him, so I'm thinking, `Well, geez, I know how good he is, and if they think highly of him, then I've got a chance.'''

There were no false hopes of continuing his career as a linebacker. At 5 feet 10 inches and 225 pounds, Izzo instead set his sights on being a special teams player. Westhoff was ''my guiding light, telling me what to do and how to do it,'' said Izzo, who quickly learned rule No. 1: ''If you're a free agent, you've got to do something to get noticed. You have to show up on film. You don't want to just be a guy. You've got to be a guy who makes them wonder: `Who is that guy?'''

That's how Izzo caught Johnson's attention, with tackle after tackle on special teams, a constant blur of fury. He threw his body around with reckless abandon and became a key member of the Dolphins' special teams, finishing second in tackles. Injuries shelved him in 1997 (Achilles') and for the final three games of 1998 (knee), but in 1999 he was voted captain of the Dolphins' special teams. His 2000 season culminated with a trip to Hawaii and the Pro Bowl and in the specialized world of pro football, Izzo was a known commodity.

Which is why the Patriots came calling. Larry Whigham had taken a better deal with the Chicago Bears, so New England was looking for help. ''We lost Whigham and we hated to lose him,'' said Brad Seely, the Patriots' special teams coach, ''but we got Izzo and we think that was an even swap.''

For Izzo, it's been better than break even. He not only earned the respect of his new teammates (voted special teams captain), but he got a trip to the Super Bowl. He's a key man on a special teams unit that is among the league's best and getting paid fairly well, to boot.

A wonderful ride, but one that has not clouded his perspective. He knows everything fell his way - the Dolphins couldn't afford to pay him any more because of salary-cap constraints and the Patriots had both the money and the job opening. He also knows firsthand that life can change in a heartbeat, coming from Houston where his father and many of his friends worked for Enron.

''My father was president of Enron Engineering Construction, EEC,'' said Izzo. ''He retired last January.''

Someone suggested that the timing seemed fortunate, that perhaps Izzo's father got out before the financial collapse, but he shook his head slowly.

''It's an unfortunate situation. You can't say that there's anything fortunate, because nobody wins in that situation,'' said Izzo. ''It's a tough deal. It's affected a lot of my friends and their families.''

That reinforced in Izzo a lesson he had learned a long time ago: Never take anything for granted. Not with life and certainly not in the NFL. OK, he's a six-year veteran, but that means nothing come next summer.

''I know how hard I've worked to get to this point and it'd be a crying shame if I let it all slip away by not doing the things I need to do,'' he said. ''There's always someone that wants your job. I know that. There's always an Izzo out there who wants to make the team, and every training camp, I wonder: `Who is the Izzo around here that I need to keep my eye on because they're out there.'''