Nate Meikle Reports on His Career As a Punt Returner

Most everyone remember Nate Meikle getting smashed in Tucson, as he stood, helplessly gazing toward the desert sky, awaiting a punt. Here are a few of his experiences as a punt returner.

1999: Ricks College
Rexburg, ID
Grayshirt Season

“I’ll just keep hiding out on the sideline,” I tell myself as the players on the field are trying out for punt returner. The irony of the situation sinks in as I find myself wishing there were a way I could return punts without having to actually catch the ball. No doubt I could make some defenders miss once the ball was in my hands.

But looking up to the sky, utterly vulnerable, as 11 defenders with a 40-yard head start and combined weight of 2,200 pounds come sprinting toward me with the sole purpose of knocking me out...Yeah that’s why I’m still standing on the sideline.

Even more deflating is the headline I imagine showing up in the Post Register the next day, “Meikle Muffs Punt - Costs Vikings the Game!” I realize my style of play is great for returning punts but it’s dropping the punt and costing our team the game, the season, the national championship, that doesn’t really mesh with me. Yeah, I’ll just hang out on the sideline and sip some water.

“Meikle! Meikle! Nate Meikle! Get out here!”
“Busted,” I lament as I strap on my helmet and run onto the field.
“You only get once chance Meikle. Don’t screw it up!”
“One chance?” I repeat to myself. “I only have to drop one before they kick me out? This will be much less painful than I thought. I don’t think I could ever intentionally drop the ball, but since I’ve never figured out how to intentionally catch it either, I like my odds.

The butterflies in my stomach take flight as the punter kicks the ball into the air. I console myself by thinking this will all be over in about four seconds, the average hang time for a punt. I look up. The ball is coming straight down. It hits my chest, my hands…

“Meikle get out of here!”

I trot to the sideline smothering a grin that can’t even begin to express the relief I feel inside. No punt return for me this year.

2002: Snow College
Ephraim, Utah
Freshman Season

“So you’re the Snow College quarterback?” I ask.
“Blah blah blah blah.”
What does the receiving core look like this year?”
“Blah blah blah blah.”
“One of those guys is probably the punt returner, right?” This time I actually listen to the response.
“Yeah, it’s James Fontaine. He’s a solid punt returner and will back for his sophomore season.”

A sigh of relief and no need to smother the grin this time.

2003: Snow College
Sophomore Season

“So this guy Romney that’s coming back off his mission is a pretty good receiver and punt returner?” I ask offensive coordinator, Coach Trimble.
“Yeah he was a stud receiver and will also take over Fontaine’s spot at punt return.”
“Can’t wait ‘till he gets back”, I say. “More than you’ll ever know”, I think.

2004: BYU
Provo, Utah
Redshirt Junior Season

“Bryce sure has some guts, doesn’t he? The guy’s only a freshman and has nerves of steel out there catching those punts”, I tell the player standing next to me on the sideline.

I take a sip of water and do some quick math in my head… “2005, I’ll be a junior, Bryce will be a sophomore; 2006, I’ll be a senior, Bryce will be a junior. I’m covered.” Another grin.

2005: BYU
Junior Season

“Meikle! Meikle! Go catch punts.”
“Here I go again” I tell myself as I gasp for air and run toward the end of the field where punt returner try outs are being held.

“Drop one and you might be done, drop two and you’re out”, says a straight faced Coach Mendenhall.

As I wait for my turn, my mind and nerves are racing. If I ever wanted to drop a punt it’s now. To drop a punt in high school or even in junior college is one thing, but to muff a punt in front of 65,000 fans is an entirely different matter.

“Just drop it intentionally and it’ll all be over,” I think to myself. “Then I’ll never have to cost our team the game, especially a game televised on ESPN.”

“No, I can’t drop it intentionally, not with Coach Mendenhall standing right next to me. I’ve spent the last year of my life trying to do anything and everything to please him. If there is one person on this field that expects me to catch the punt it’s certainly not me—it’s him.”

I suddenly realize I’ve never played for a coach that has been so involved in punt return, especially not the head coach. He’s standing right next to us, fully aware of the added pressure his presence places on us.

I’ve always been able to give the full effort he requires but it’s the perfect execution he demands that’s the real challenge. He expects me to catch every punt. “Why does he trust me to do something I don’t trust myself to do?” “But I can’t break that trust.” “I can’t let him down.” “I have to catch it.”

The butterflies return as the ball is kicked high in the air, but my attention is somewhat diverted. I’m thinking more about not disappointing Coach Mendenhall than about how bad I am at catching punts. The ball is coming straight down. It hits my chest, my hands…
I jog to the back of the line. “I caught it! Thank goodness I caught it! I haven’t let him down.” “Ah crap, I caught it!”

After the first run through the line, there are still four guys left. My turn again. I want to drop it, but I want even more to meet Coach’s expectations. I cannot let him down. The ball is kicked, it turns over, it starts coming down, hits my hands… another catch!

I review the situation, “Ok, there are three of us left but one is Bryce and the job is his anyway.” “Just keep trying your hardest and you have nothing to worry about.” “I’ve never seen Bryce drop a punt and he won’t drop one now.”

The ball is kicked and I catch it again. Another kick and another catch. Another kick and another catch. Suddenly it is just Bryce and me. The drill goes for another few minutes, and neither of us drops a ball.

The horn blows signaling the start of the next practice period. “Next time we do punt return I want both of you guys back here,” Coach Mendenhall says.

“How did I do that?” I think to myself. “I’ve never caught so many consecutive punts in my life!” But I already know the answer—I’ve never tried so hard, never focused so much, and most importantly, never expected so much of myself. And then a more difficult question, “How did he get me to do that?”

As I start jogging to the next drill I glance over at Coach and he says, “Good job”. There’s nothing I want more than to get that approval. Coach doesn’t say much but when he does say something you know he means it.

For the moment I feel like I’m one of his guys, a guy he can trust to do what he asks. He can trust me today anyway, realizing I’m being tested every single day. I begin to think about how many days we will repeat the same drill – the pressure to catch every punt, at every single practice, for the next two years, with Coach standing right next me.

Will he really be here every day? Then I think back to the team meeting when Coach was chastising the entire team saying, “You can keep testing me, but just know this: I WONT GET TIRED! If you think I’m going to change…I WONT.”

A new pressure begins to overtake me. If he won’t get tired, if he won’t change, I will have to live up to his expectations every day. If I came through today I can come through tomorrow. “One day at a time,” I tell myself repeating one of Coach Mendenhall’s mantras. “Every day your best. One day at a time.”