“Jim Murray-esque” is a column by Sean Campbell that highlights all facets of USC Athletics in the style of former Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray.
Sometimes, the best way of finding something extraordinary is to do something ordinary and see who’s standing out like Shaquille O’Neal in a first grade class.
But most of the time, those that are truly extraordinary make something extremely hard look as easy as strongman legend Eddie Hall picking up a piece of paper. For reference, Hall’s record-breaking deadlift of 500 kilograms weighed more than the equivalent of 27,000 sheets of paper.
In every sport there are a few things that are seemingly impossible to a novice that pros make look easy.
A few examples:
- Hitting a 1-iron.
- Taking a right hook to the head.
- Dunking a basketball.
To an untrained eye the best of the best — Jack Nicklaus’ 1-iron, James Braddock’s iron chin and 5-foot-7 Spud Webb’s Slam Dunk Championship — might look comparable to making instant ramen.
From experience, that just isn’t true.
I can hardly hit my 3-iron in play — let alone well — more than one-out-of-three times, which is precisely why I don’t carry the significantly more difficult 1-iron.
I once got a concussion in boxing practice after being used as a live punching bag for a bigger, better fighter. Driving home was rough.
At 5-foot-8, dunking a basketball feels less realistic than watching pigs fly on Mars while petting a velociraptor that talks.
On Wednesday, I completed my goal of covering every major sport by writing a recap of the USC men’s water polo team’s showdown with No. 7 Princeton, who the Trojans took down 10-7. While there, I found a new addition to the list of impossibilities made possible by these freak-of-nature athletes.
Water polo goalkeeping.
On just the first possession of Wednesday’s game, USC’s lead keeper, redshirt sophomore Bernardo Herzer, deflected two blazing shots off his arm. Seven saves later, I was in awe.
Herzer has played over 72% of the minutes for the Trojans, who have given up just under nine goals a game this year. If this was soccer or hockey, the Trojans would be winless, but No. 3 USC is currently 15-2, including 10 wins against top-20 teams.
Craig Wilson, a member of the United States Water Polo Hall of Fame and a fellow graduate of Davis High School, said in his Guide to Goalkeeping report that the difference between an average goalie and a strong goalie is four goals per game. No USC offensive player is averaging more than that mark.
Taking four goals either way from each USC game and you get a 17-0, No. 1-ranked squad or a 10-6-1 team likely holding steady at the bottom of top-25 polls. No wonder USC head coach Marko Pintaric called it the most important position.
In baseball, the fate of a game is often held by the pitcher — often considered the most important position in the sport. Many hurlers have folded under the pressure. A water polo goalie doesn’t have that chance.
If the speedo-wearing equivalent to Roger Clemens didn’t have his best stuff, there’s no Mariano Rivera queuing Metallica in the ‘pen to bail him out, nor an Andruw Jones patrolling center field ready to save the day.
“You can have the worst quarter or three quarters of your life and then you can have the best quarter of your life and help your team win a game,” Pintaric said about the mentality of goalies. “Goalies are there to clean up the mistakes [of the] defense, so once they get scored on they just have to forget about it instantly, and then move to the next possession.”
That difference between No. 1 and just another team is often in the goalie’s hand, and Herzer has been doing his part.
Wilson defined a strong goalie by a 60% save percentage, while an average goalie has a 40% mark. As just a redshirt sophomore, Herzer has a 50.5% mark while not playing in four games USC won by a combined score of 87-28 — where his save percentage would’ve surely increased.
Even after being hit by a flailing Princeton arm in the first quarter, Herzer never dropped his stone face and blocked the shot. The goalie is a machine in the pool — except he doesn’t break down like your laundry machine would.
These shots aren’t dinkers, they are often well-north of 30 mph and up to around 55 mph — more than enough for a $500 speeding ticket in California — giving goalies just fractions of a second to react.
It doesn’t get any easier when the ball is on the other side of the pool.
“Our defense starts on offense,” Pintaric said. “[Herzer] already knows the matchups, where the shooters are positioned in defense, where that center is, where that center is going to, the way they’re going to attack.”
The goalie is like a general leading his army as if he might get hit by a 45-mph bullet if they lose, though I guess you have to sub the bullet for a ball.
And, unlike many of their soldiers, they stay in the pool the whole game with minimal relief, outside of quick breaks between quarters.
I don’t know how many of y’all have tried treading water for eight minutes — the length of a collegiate water polo quarter — but, let’s just say, there is a reason why pool noodles were invented.
When I thought about this before the game, I didn’t think much of it. That is, until I remembered one minor detail about water polo: Your hands are not free.
The leg and core strength required to not only maintain your position above the water but to be able to react, jump to and save a ball speeding like a bullet into the corner is absurd. These guys jump higher after almost an hour of intense cardio, without touching any ground, than I would with a running start and a gun to my head.
For the record, if it was me in the pool, I would probably drown in the first quarter — assuming the ball didn’t knock me out first. I’ll stick to my pool noodle.
“Jim Murray-esque” runs every Thursday.