Picture this: It is fourth and seven and the Tigers are on the opponent's 25-yard line. It's too long to go for the first down and too close to punt. Junior kicker Derek Javarone runs onto the field and prepares to kick the field goal. Sophomore Colin McDonough sets up seven yards behind the line of scrimmage for the hold. The ball is snapped; Javarone takes two steps forward and strikes the ball solidly, watching it sail through the uprights for three points.
This situation has played out 12 times this season. Combined with Javarone's 20 point-after-touchdowns, the junior has successfully converted 32 kicks this season.
But how hard can it possibly be to kick a field goal? Being a soccer player myself, I met with Javarone to answer that question, and find out just exactly what goes into kicking a field goal. I found out that it was a lot harder than it looks, and my overconfidence as a soccer player came crashing down.
Javarone first became a kicker in middle school, when his father, who is a doctor, did not want him to play contact sports. As all his friends were playing football, Javarone got permission to become a kicker.
In high school, he was fortunate enough to have a kicking coach, which is extremely rare at the high school level — he does not even have a kicking coach at Princeton.
It was with his coach that Javarone worked out his kicking method, which he still uses to this day.
"He taught me to learn what works and keep doing it over and over," Javarone said. "The key is to keep everything the same to develop muscle memory."
I decided that I would learn this method, and then see if I could become a successful kicker myself.
The first thing Javarone does is place the ball perpendicular to the ground, lining up his feet in the direction that he wants to kick it. No matter where he is kicking the ball from, he always makes a straight line to the middle of the pipes, even from the hash marks.
Javarone then takes three normal steps straight back before putting his feet together. This way he maintains a 90-degree angle with the plane of the goalposts at all times. He then takes two steps to his left, and is ready to kick.
Every kick he attempts, Javarone visualizes the same thing: striking a good ball and seeing it sail through the uprights.
Once the ball is snapped, Javarone has about 1.5 seconds to get off the kick. He takes his first step with his right foot when the ball is about halfway to the holder. He plants his left foot on the second step and drives his foot through the ball with a straight follow through.

Just before making contact with the ball, Javarone locks his leg to get more power and points his toe straight to the ground to expose the sweet spot on the inside of the laces where the second metatarsal juts out. He tries to hit the ball about a third of the way up his foot.
While Javarone meticulously laid out each step of his method, I had problems visualizing it. So I asked him to show me the process in action.
Javarone went through all the steps and calmly kicked a 30-yarder through the center of the uprights.
He then moved back to attempt a 55-yarder, which fell a yard below the crossbar at most.
He had "hit it too far on top," Javarone explained, although the kick looked pretty good to me.
So now it was my turn. Even though I didn't have any cleats, I was feeling confident that I would obviously impress him and our bystanders (otherwise known as 'Prince' photo editor Paul Chin) with a mighty kick on my first try from 25 yards.
I went through all of the steps slowly, lining up the ball and stepping back into position. I took my two steps, locked my leg for power, let loose with magnificent force . . . and the ball went about 10 yards off the ground and to the right.
Not yet dismayed, I continued to try from 25 yards. After repeated attempts, I succeeded in finally kicking one the proper height, albeit quite a bit to the right.
At that point, I determined that his method was too hard to master, but I refused to leave the field until I made one. So I decided to take a couple more steps back — like five or six more.
The extra steps did their job. My first kick sailed just inside the right upright and I ran across the field in jubilant celebration.
I decided to retire from the field-goal business on a high note, and leave the kicking to Javarone.
Was it harder than I expected? Grudgingly, yes. Could I follow his technique? Sadly, no. But then again, I did not have cleats.