It was his right leg that gave Rob Bironas' life meaning.
Many people will remember that he wore his heart on his sleeve as he threw his support behind countless charitable endeavors, through his own foundation and in support of others'. Some will recall the twinkle in his eye when he played some practical joke or charmed fans of all ages. There also was the hair that disappeared from the top of his head during his nine seasons with the Tennessee Titans, and the back that increasingly ached during the latter part of his career.
What mattered to him, though, was that right leg. That's what made him an NFL player, one of the most consistent performers at his position in the history of the game. It's what afforded him the opportunity for philanthropy and enticed others to get close to him for a handshake, a photo or whatever.
Then that same right leg stomped on the accelerator Saturday night and sent his white GMC Yukon Denali hurtling too fast along Battery Lane — a move that sent him to his death, at 36 years old, in a one-vehicle accident when he went off the road and into a drainage culvert.
It is impossible to know for certain what was on Bironas' mind in the final minutes or hours of his life, particularly given the reports that have surfaced in the days that followed his passing. He left his home unannounced, a development that prompted his wife of three months to call the police. He threatened drivers of other vehicles and behaved aggressively enough that one placed his own call to police.
Up until that point, he had maintained a single-minded focus for the overwhelming majority of his adult life.
What he wanted was to be a kicker in the National Football League, and he sought any opportunity to put his best foot forward in an attempt to make that happen. After three years at Auburn he transferred to Georgia Southern, where he would not have to share the kicking responsibilities. He played in two different arena football leagues, one that paid so little that he also worked at a Best Buy to help make ends meet. He unsuccessfully auditioned for NFL teams in three consecutive seasons but did not give up.
He told himself he would abandon the quest if he did not make it by the time he was 27. He got the job with the Tennessee Titans in 2005 — roughly seven months after his 27th birthday — and spent the better part of the next decade proving that what he thought of himself was correct all along. He made a then-record eight field goals in a game in 2007, a year after he became the sixth player in NFL history to make a field goal of 60 yards or longer. He made more game-winning kicks in a season (four) and in a career (11) than anyone in franchise history. He ranks as the NFL's fourth most accurate field goal kicker ever and is the second leading scorer in franchise history.
But the Titans released him in March. Although several teams had him in for tryouts, he was unemployed as the current season moved into its third week. It was a sudden, unexpected end to the career of one of the most popular Titans in recent memory.
It also was a move widely questioned by a number of fans, as a suitable replacement has been difficult to find. The team auditioned two during training camp but kept neither, and the veteran who has the job now missed two kicks Sunday at Cincinnati in the hours after Bironas' death.
For a player who earned millions of dollars, was a father and a newlywed (he married three months before he died), his options seemed limitless. He was well-connected and well-liked in a town with a well-earned reputation for being a place where virtually anything can happen.
Yet the number of former NFL players demoralized by the sudden end of their careers, the absence of the crowd and lack of a transition plan to a so-called normal life grows almost by the day. Stories of suicide, brain injuries, depression, financial ruin and other unsettling eventualities give the gameday cheers a hollow ring. Evidently Bironas was just as susceptible to darkness, doubt and dismay.
We’ll never know, now, the world of possibilities that might have opened up for Rob Bironas beyond the field. What is sadder still is that he’ll never know them.
All we know for certain is that right leg.
He bet on it, built his reputation on it and stood tall on it. It was his tool. It was his ticket. It was the embodiment of his unique talent. It is what drove him, literally and figuratively, to the highest points in his life — and what pushed him, in his final moments, to an untimely death.
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