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<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8703020514
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
871220
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, December 20, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
STATE EDITION
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>
SEE ALSO METRO FINAL EDITION, Page 1E
</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
THROW JIM ARNOLD'S HAT INTO THE PRO BOWL RING
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
You should hear Jim Arnold do Pee-Wee Herman. Right at the lunch table.
Ha-HAHH! Perfect. Or Sammy Davis. Or Elmer Fudd. You name it. I mean, the guy
is good.

  This, of course, fellow NFL players,  is no reason to elect him to your
Pro Bowl. Unless you want some post-dinner entertainment. After all, how long
can you do the hula? 

  But no. There is a better reason to invite this tall, bearded  stranger.
Simple. Basic. And here it is: Right now, he is the best punter in the NFL.
  No fooling.
  Now, it may not say much for the Lions that 1) the player having the
finest season is the punter,  and 2) that punter was actually cut during
training camp. "I went back to Nashville and I didn't even have a place to
stay," recalls Arnold, the balding, 26-year-old foot specialist. "So I watched
the  first week's games at a friend's house. And that night, I got a phone
call from the Lions. They said (Russell) Erxleben had been injured and they
wanted me back. I drove up that night."
  So began  his "magical" season. Just the same, on a Lions team that has
won just three games and lost 10, Arnold is averaging 44.2 yards a punt. More
incredible is his net average of 40 yards -- which means opponents  are having
as much luck with returns as shoppers will on Dec. 26. Nobody has a higher
average in that area.
  No one is even close.
  So OK. The Lions may not have much to celebrate these days. But this man
deserves his due. And I am going to give it to him. SEND A PUNTER TO HAWAII.
That is my new campaign.
  The following is public service announcement:
Follow the bouncing punter 
  Here is a guy for whom "bounced around' is a too weak a term: he was cut
by Kansas City, was out of work last year, was brought in to Detroit for a try
out, then passed over, then called back a month  later, then signed, then cut
from training camp, then called back. Perseverance. That should be worth a few
votes, right? Besides, he holds a degree in sociology, and a real estate
license ("in case  football doesn't work out") and is a lanky, polite
southerner who says things like "Shoot, ah'm not worried"  yet can mimic Sammy
Davis as if he was born with 10 rings on his fingers: "Mmmm, cat, babe,
you're cook-in!"
  Not bad, huh?
  Still not impressed? Try this: How many guys have to practice punt
sideways? It's true. Because the Lions share the Silverdome with the Detroit
Pistons, they often have just 40 yards of field to work with (the rest
devoured by the basketball court). And since the offense and defense need that
precious field, Arnold stands on one sideline and punts over to  the other.
Sometimes he reaches the seats. Sometimes he doesn't. "One time I kicked it
and the linemen were practicing off the far sideline. The ball was coming
right down into them. I yelled "HEADS  UP! HEADS UP!"
  He sighs.
  "You don't want to upset your linemen."
  Right. He's sensible too.
  Who knows how bad the Lions season might have been if not for Arnold's
punts? He at least  slowed down opponents. Forced them to start way back. Gave
his team a few morsels of inspiration with each good boot. And he's not your
wimpy-kicker- with-an-accent type. He's an athlete. Even has a mean streak. "I
don't even want to see the return man," he says, in mock toughness, "unless
I'm picking one of my guys off him."
  Yeah.
A dark-horse candidate 
  Like most punters, Arnold spent a  chunk of his life kicking lonely
footballs into the air, then chasing them and kicking them again. As a kid in
Georgia, he measured punts by the trees ("A pretty good gauge, 'cept when it
got stuck in  the branches.")
  He kept kicking, through high school, then Vanderbilt. And now he is
finding success on a team that needs good, long punts the way most people need
liquid. A team that could boost  morale by sending at least one player to the.
. . .
  Pro Bowl, which is where we began this little story -- and where Jim
Arnold should end up come February. It takes the votes of the other NFL
players,  and that could hurt, since not many teams see the Lions. Sometimes
not even the ones they play. But if they study the facts, they will find, in
Arnold, a truly deserving candidate.
  "I don't like  to bring it up" admits the punter, ever the gentleman,
"because I'm just one guy, and I think if I went, the whole punt team should
go. They're awesome."
  "But oh yeah, it would be a great honor."
  So what do you say, NFL? Wipe the stardust out of your eyes and look down
here, in the lower echelons, where stands a gem. Invite him. He deserves it.
And after the game, maybe he'll do his Pee-Wee  Herman.
  Arnold: "My feet should do the talking."
  That'd be a neat trick, too.
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