ESPN can't give us enough of Terrell Owens, from the emergency room to the locker room. The network and Owens seem in total agreement: football is all about T.O.

He screams at his quarterback, we see it. He calls out his position coach, we hear it. He is soft hands, a hard head and, in many ways, the face of his sport.

Owens has it all and wants more.

Bobby Wheet wanted one play. It came last Saturday, late in an NCAA Division III game at Pella, Iowa.

Central College doesn't command ESPN's attention, even with a 13-game regular-season win streak.

Wheet can live with that. For him, it is about the journey from baseball castoff to football novice to one extra-point kick in a varsity college game.

The Minier native and Olympia High School graduate sent it through the middle of the uprights, the final point of a 40-14 victory over Dubuque. After three years as the junior varsity kicker, the guy with one kidney (he was born that way) and one goal had made the varsity scoring list. His only other varsity attempt came last season and was blocked.

"It was a pretty huge thrill for me to get to be a part of it and get a chance to score a point," said Wheet, a senior. "You just kind of hope and believe you'll get a chance to do it. I kind of had a feeling it would come, so I had to be ready."

Wheet has been preparing since his junior year at Olympia, when he was cut from the baseball team. While the Spartans went on to win the Class A state championship, Wheet migrated to track and field.

Some of his new teammates also played football, and expressed the need for a kicker. Wheet approached then-football coach Craig Anderson, who encouraged him to give it a try.

It led to breaking and entering much of that summer. Wheet would hop the fence to the Olympia football field at 6:30 a.m. and practice kicking. After several weeks, sympathetic maintenance workers began to unlock the gate for him.

Wheet also went through the rigors of conditioning and weightlifting, and in his first game, booted a 37-yard field goal against Lincoln. He added a 33-yarder against Central Catholic later that year, missing only "one or two" extra points all season.

Still, upon arriving at Central College (enrollment 1,700), he had to adjust to kicking without a tee.

"When he started out, boy, it was a struggle at times to get the thing airborne," Central College coach Jeff McMartin said.

Four years later, Wheet is the "Rudy" of rural America, though he leaves that comparison to others.

He's seen the movie, calling it "a great story." He just doesn't consider it his.

"That's more something my teammates give me a hard time about," Wheet said. "I think the lesson I've learned is a lot of people think failure is a horrible thing. I looked at failure (getting cut in baseball) as an opportunity for me. I'd get to work harder and try to improve and try something new.

"The journey has been the most fun part about it. I've met all kinds of people and a ton of friends out of the deal."

Where else could the backup kicker work so closely with the college president? The kicking coach is Central College president David Roe, who told Wheet's mother, Ann, recently what an inspiration her son is to the rest of the No. 12-ranked team.

McMartin credits that to Wheet being "a great character person" who refused to be a "fringe guy." Missing a kidney has not kept him out of the mix. The protective flak jacket he wore as a grade school baseball player has long been discarded.

"He's jumped in and done every drill and weight training workout," McMartin said. "Sometimes guys who come in without a lot of football experience, it's hard for them to understand the commitment that's involved. He's shared in that with his teammates. And he has really improved as a kicker."

Off the field, Wheet has been a middle school basketball coach, grade school tutor and led an exercise class at a senior citizen's center in Pella. A social science major, his goal is to be a college basketball coach.

For now, consider him the anti-T.O., a guy who aspires to be a teammate, not the team.

"I go to practice and get to be with 120 of my best friends," Wheet said. "There's no way I would give that up for anything."

Randy Kindred is a Pantagraph columnist. To leave him a voice mail, call 820-3402. By e-mail: rkindred@pantagraph.com . The Randy Kindred Blog is at www.pantagraph.com /blogs