It is especially heartbreaking when the decline is one of both the mind and the body. We can accept the greatest of all time slowing down, failing to push a pile or missing a tackle. Less easy is watching Justin Tucker stare down a field goal perpetually hooking outside of its intended parameters; a painter who can no longer feel the canvas or a golfer who now preempts all his shots with a warning to bystanders. Name your malady: yips, shakes, hiccups … it’s an awful curse and one that deserves nothing but the deepest of sympathy.
Tucker is the greatest kicker in NFL history. He came into this season as the most accurate and decorated of all time, and still holds the record for the longest kick made in an NFL game. This year, he has a career-low 73.9% field goal rate, which will almost assuredly snap his stretch of five consecutive Pro Bowl nods. He has been asked to explain in every way how he went from the picture of machine-like accuracy to a player who, just a few months ago, I saw talking to Baltimore Ravens coach John Harbaugh after the game and being told: “Just be happy we won.” Another game in which his performance lingered like crime scene fingerprints.
