Oct. 15, 2010

You would think, with nearly a thousand yards to choose from last year alone, that between them, the two Navy coaches would mention at least one memorable run as the defining play in the career of Vince Murray.

Perhaps the jaunt accounting for 52 of the 141 yards he gained last October at SMU. How about the game-clinching 42-yarder, the following week, in the final soggy seconds of a rain-soaked win over Wake Forest? There's always the blast up the middle, practically untouched, from the Notre Dame 25-yard line into the end zone shadows cast by Touchdown Jesus.

Nope, none of the above says it all about the young man who, those coaches agree, says very little.

Quiet and humble. They're two of the many words Ken Niumatalolo and Mike Judge choose to describe Murray. Niumatalolo, as you know, is head coach of the Midshipmen. Judge is his third-year assistant, an ex-college quarterback now overseeing Navy's stable of fullbacks.

In their time together, they've seen Murray repeatedly grab opportunity and run with it, all the way from near anonymity to alongside the legendary. When he eclipsed the 100-yard mark for the fourth game in a row in 2009, Murray became the first back to do so since Napolean McCallum in 1983.

McCallum, you'll recall, helps form the trinity of Academy football greats, forever linked to Bellino and Staubach. Murray, on the other hand, is someone whose career consisted of seven total rushing attempts through two seasons and the first three games of a third.

What goes a long way toward explaining how Murray got from there to here, as a second-year starter and All-East candidate, is the lasting impression he leaves both Niumatalolo and Judge after he stops running.

"As a sophomore, he was getting beat out by guys that he was better than," Judge recently recalled. "Vince needed to work on ball security. We told him, `You've got to take care of the football.'"

In other words, Murray fumbled too frequently. Inability to hold on was holding him back.

Every practice became an exercise. Murray would plow forward, his two arms forming a vice, squeezing the ball against his chest. Only when the whistle sounded did he turn it over, handing the ball to a manager.

"He'd bounce up after a play," Judge says, "holding the ball high and tight."

Murray still does, in practices, and in games, where officials take the place of team managers. Without fail, even in lieu of a touchdown celebration, it's a habit Murray continues. And his coaches appreciate every time they see it.

That, they tell you, is the image that defines Murray.

"He gets up off the pile or off the ground and holds the ball high and tight until he gives the ball to the official," says Niumatalolo. "It shows the attention to detail."

"It's been fun to watch him take coaching so personally," said Judge, whose playing days at Springfield College preceded a coaching stint at Harvard and an apprenticeship with the New England Patriots. "Everything we've asked him to do, he's done it to an extreme. He's totally taken it upon himself to be better."

Murray's commitment is consistent with every other phase of his Academy life. He is, to borrow a Niumatalolo phrase, "all-in."

"He's a young man who typifies this place, a hard worker," Niumatalolo says. "He's the ideal person to coach, just working hard all the time. You never hear anything about him in the Hall."

Niumatalolo is referring to Bancroft Hall, home to all 4,400 midshipmen, and the place where they are judged daily as officers in training. By that, he's making a point best explained by Murray's close friend Tyler Simmons.

"You can't say enough good things about Vince Murray," says Simmons, a linebacker and fellow senior. "I know you hear that about a lot of people, but he's just an all-around good guy. You really have to nitpick to find any flaws with Vince.

"He's ranked near the top of his (military) company...He's always getting good marks from his company officer and the chief enlisted. He was a squad leader last year. It's important for people to see that."

Considering that the entire Brigade of Midshipmen is comprised of Battalions, who are formed by Companies, Murray excels in the most intimate of Academy peer groups.

"I try to be involved as much as possible (in the Brigade)," says Murray, not unexpectedly, downplaying his high grades in the face of close-quarters scrutiny. "You need to show up at morning formation (at 7:00 a.m.) and be happy when you're there, and show the company officer that you're there if he or she needs you to do something. You show the company that you're interested."

Interest, or lack thereof, has never been a problem for Murray. Not when Annapolis is where he wanted to be from a very young age.

Though Murray grew up in Northern Kentucky, he was born about an hour and a half away, in the `Birthplace of Aviation.' Like Wilbur and Orville Wright, he's a native of Dayton, Ohio.

His mother, Ann, had grown up around Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, where her father was stationed. His father, John, graduated from Wright State University and became a Navy pilot, eventually serving a dozen years in reserves.

He also started flying commercially for Delta. For years, the airline made the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport one of its largest hubs. As recently as 2005, Delta scheduled more than 600 daily departures out of Cincy - second only to Atlanta.

John Murray, who settled his family in Union, Ky., manned the cockpit on many of those flights. But as often as he was departing, he was arriving. For young Vince the time between landing and takeoff was invaluable.

"I liked that my dad would have three or four days at home at a time," he says. "I spent a lot of time hanging out with my dad, going to Reds (baseball) games and stuff. It was way better for my family. Other kids' fathers would be home on the weekends, but they would have other things to do."

Thinking more practically than romantically, flying seemed the only way to travel through life. Young as that life was at the time.

"I always wanted to fly," says Murray. "I've wanted to make it my career path since elementary school. I really didn't want to work from 9-to-5.

"I wasn't a big aviation buff. I just looked at it as something to do."

Murray occasionally visited the Wright-Patterson museum and remembers reading a biography of Chuck Yeager, the Army Air Corps and Air Force hero who broke the sound barrier. Nonetheless, he decided that the only way to explore the wild blue yonder was to fly Navy.

Competing in three sports at Ryle High School, Murray thrived at two positions in football. The Cincinnati Enquirer named him its 2006 Kentucky Player of the Year. As a running back, he rushed for 1,744 yards and 24 touchdowns. As an Enquirer first-team linebacker, he made 115 tackles.

Many of the colleges recruiting Murray envisioned him on defense. He saw things differently, and sent a personal highlight tape to the Navy staff. Former assistant coach and USNA grad Joe Speed reciprocated the interest.

"I pretty much knew right when I got that call from Annapolis," Murray says. "I knew that Navy was the place where I would wind up. They told me they wanted me to play fullback. It's definitely the position I thought I was better suited to play."

When Murray got to Annapolis, direct out of Ryle, in the summer of 2007, the line of future Navy fullbacks formed at the rear, behind studs Adam Ballard and Eric Kettani. Appearing in just two games as a plebe, Murray never lost faith. Instead, he instilled it in others.

"I went through a lot of hard times as a freshman," said Simmons, recently sharing his early experiences with Murray in the weight room. "Vince was my lifting partner, so he got to hear me complain and moan every day. But I'd always walk out of there feeling better. I never saw him get down. Whatever I'd say, he'd always have an answer for me.

"It was definitely more me complaining than Vince. He was kind of my beacon of light. It was like, `If he could do it (another repetition), then I'm going to do it.' In the weight room, he was always the first to enter and the last to leave."

The same was true the following year, even though Murray never made a varsity appearance.

"Even when he wasn't the main guy, I always knew he'd do big things," Simmons said. "We were roommates during summer camp. With most guys, when they get moved back on the depth chart, they get down. I'd see Vince come back to the room, beat up and bloody. Vince always said, `Tomorrow is a new day.'"

Murray used tomorrow to correct what coaches critiqued today. Any flaw exposed in film review became his focal point the next practice. And always, just as he was told, Murray kept the ball high and tight.

Entering 2009, only Alexander Teich stood ahead of Murray on the Mids' depth chart. Two carries at Ohio State preceded four vs. Louisiana Tech. He rushed just once at Pittsburgh.

In week four, Murray saw more action opposite Western Kentucky, carrying 12 times. They were next to nothing compared with the following Saturday.

Facing Air Force, Murray was summoned to relieve Teich, who suffered an ankle injury. Repeatedly, Navy called his number. Twenty-two carries - including 16 in the Mids' final 31 plays of a 16-13, overtime win - produced 67 yards.

On Oct. 10, Murray made his first start at Rice, where he scored first touchdown in a 63-14 blowout of the Owls.

"Prior to Vince getting his first start, we had a lot of confidence in him as a football player," Judge says. "It wasn't like we had to completely overhaul our game plan. He took his role as the No. 2 fullback and prepared as if he was going to be the starter.

"When he stepped in, we didn't miss a beat. All credit goes to him."

Another milestone tumbled, again in Texas, a week later at SMU. Murray reached the century mark, scoring from the Mustangs' 3- and 7-yard lines to accompany 23 other rushes worth an additional 131 yards.

It was the start of a streak. Murray gained a career-high 175 yards against Wake Forest, 115 vs. Temple and, on just 14 carries, 158 yards at Notre Dame. He put the Mids ahead of the Fighting Irish, 14-0, with his touchdown run.

"I've gone head-to-head with Vince more times than I'd like in practice," Simmons says. "I always come away with my head spinning. He's one of the hardest hitters on the team. I never lost faith in him. He was always going, going, going."

"He's a kid who came out of nowhere," says Niumatalolo. "He didn't complain. He just worked hard."

One of his biggest admirers was the recuperating Teich, the teammate whose misery led to Murray's opportunity.

"I'm proud of him," says Teich, a junior who is Murray's roommate on road trips. "I'm just as happy for Vince as anyone else. (My injury) is something that just happened."

"We prepare as a group and don't look at it as an individual (competition)," Murray said. "I don't think there was ever a point when I felt like I was asserting myself, like I was the man."

Murray still proved that humility can coexist with confidence.

"There was a point where I felt my confidence grow," he says. "Every snap of every game, there's no value you can put on that."

All those snaps eventually took their toll. After the 23-21 victory at Notre Dame, Murray sat through the home finale, resting a bruised shoulder as the Mids beat Delaware. His own injury ended up costing him a 1,000-yard campaign.

Murray returned to start the next, and final, three contests. He closed the season with 971 net yards rushing. Out of 182 overall attempts, only once did he go backwards - for a loss of one yard. Murray didn't lose a fumble until his 12th appearance.

One yard lost. One fumble lost. Murray saw room for improvement.

He still does. As much ground as he's covered in his career, he's constantly seeking to make more strides.

"I'm always trying to get bigger, faster and stronger," said Murray, who complements his conditioning with a diet designed by assistant strength coach Cliff Dooman. "I focus on speed and quickness, especially those first four or five yards off the mesh (with the quarterback)."

In Niumatalolo's assessment, Murray has "good feet." With them, according to Judge, he's developed good vision. So good, it's almost psychic.

"He's taken all the little pieces of knowledge and put them to use," Judge says. "Vince knows where everybody is supposed to go, especially the interior linemen. It's about anticipating it, seeing it before it happens."

Murray's work was evident in this season's opener against Maryland. He needed just 14 carries for his fifth career 100-yard performance. Averaging 8.0 yards per pop, Murray totaled 112 yards. Through five games, it remained a Mids' individual best for 2010.

But two weeks ago, on Oct. 9 at Wake Forest, Murray suffered a sprained knee on his third carry. A few days before last Saturday's encounter with SMU, he wasn't expected to play.

Time, again, for the Navy fullbacks to trade places. You get the sense that whenever Murray returns, Teich will be the first to welcome him back.

"He's one of my good friends," says Teich. "I've never met a person who doesn't like Vince. He does what's right...He always holds himself to a higher standard. He doesn't slack off in any way."

Or with anything, Simmons asserts, especially friends and family.

"You should know how important his family is to him," Simmons says. "He's 100 percent committed to his fiancée and family. Family always comes first."

"I get great support from my family and my fiancée," says Murray, who plans to marry his high school sweetheart, Courtney McPherson, a senior at the University of Kentucky, after graduation. "Without them and the support of my teammates, there's no way I could accomplish what I've been able to do at the Academy."

Throughout the coming months, they'll all be caught up in a life moving forward as fast as Chuck Yeager's Bell X-1. In Murray's sights are the last half of his final season, graduation, marriage and, he hopes, flight school.

"It's kind of crazy," he says. "I feel like I'm getting real old, real fast."

Murray's joking, of course, revealing his dry sense of humor. Niumatalolo, however, is dead serious when he hints that Murray is much older and wiser than his 20 years.

This notion strikes the head coach every Friday, when the Mids congregate on the eve of their next game, to watch and discuss a video short meant to motivate them. Recently, for example, they were shown a profile of Drew Brees, the Super Bowl-winning quarterback devoted to charity work in New Orleans.

"I've always been impressed by Vince's comments," Niumatalolo says. "He's always been very insightful."

He then pauses, shifting his thoughts to Murray's greater impact on the Navy program.

"We (coaches) talk about it all the time," says Niumatalolo. "There's something to be said about kids who want to be all-in at this place. Guys we end up winning with are guys like Vince Murray. He's tough mentally and physically. Also, he's a good football player."

Niumatalolo will soon get one last glimpse of Murray on the field.

"Hopefully, it's at the end of the year, standing there and singing Blue and Gold, looking back at my career and knowing that I've left nothing on the field," Murray says of the highlight he wants to create for himself. "That I've done everything I could do, and left no stone unturned."

Only then will Vince Murray hand over the football.