The lonely field

"Hey, where's Frost? I want to see him shank a few more punts."

Last season, Derrick Frost was the Jhonny Peralta of the Browns. Like Peralta, the Indians shortstop who was charged with replacing a cherished Cleveland institution in Omar Vizquel this spring, Frost was the rookie punter brought in from Northern Iowa to succeed Chris Gardocki, arguably the team's MVP through the years of three-and-out possessions. Gardocki was a directional-punt expert, capable of consistently planting the other team's offense inside their 10-yard line.
Prior to last season, Butch Davis cast Gardocki aside without so much as a bat of the eyebrows, claiming Gardocki's leg was weakening. To many outsiders, it looked like another ploy by Davis to eliminate any remnant of the Dwight Clark regime.
Gardocki had handled every single punt and held every single field goal and extra point since the team's rebirth in 1999. Frost had big shoes to fill.
At first he did, garnering one of the top punt-yardage averages in the league through the first half of the season.
Then came a Sunday night in Baltimore, a seven-yard shank, and infamy.
Frost looked inept for much of the second half of the season. Not that he was alone on the Browns roster, but when a punter fails standing back there all alone 15 yards behind the line of scrimmage, people tend to notice. Fans started releasing their frustration on the rookie punter as the season continued to rot.
Kyle Richardson was signed as a free agent this off-season by new general manager Phil Savage. The punter's job is his to lose, but Frost is still in camp this year to give Richardson his obligatory dose of competition.
The fans still haven't forgotten last year.

"Oh, you better watch out, 3! Sixty-four is showing you up!"

The practice field for kickers and punters at Browns training camp is no place to fade into the background. Stands line one side, and while herds of brown-and-white clad members of the offense and defense go through plays on adjacent fields, the kickers, punters and long snappers, less than 10 in number, are left to fend for themselves.
Frost, jersey No. 3, had his back to the stands and the few young men trying to get under his skin Friday evening. In between punt drills, he was playing long toss with long snapper Ryan Pontbriand, No. 64.
The few fans laid in wait, hoping for Frost to so something, anything worthy of a chide. Every time Pontbriand laid a tight spiral into Frost's hands, his detractors wanted to see a wounded-duck pass go the other way. Unfortunately, he gave them the ammo they were looking for when an errant pass wobbled and fell short of Pontbriand.

"Riiiii-chardson! Riiii-chardson!"

The good news for Frost is NFL punting is nearly itinerant work. Except for the blessed few, many punters don't stay in one place for very long. Frost has a very good chance of getting a fresh start elsewhere.
In the end, the Derrick Frost experiment was probably another poor judgment of maturity on the part of Davis. Davis, it turns out, was not a good judge of players between the ears. Frost probably wasn't ready to play and struggle in front of 72,000 fans every Sunday. Richardson is a better bet to be able to handle the pressure.
But Davis and his errors are gone, and left to take the bullet is Frost, a kid just looking for a chance to punt in the pros. A kid who is in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The vultures are circling over the lonliest field at Browns camp. No more Gerard Warren, no more Quincy Morgan, no more Tim Couch, so some fans decided to make the loneliest field at Browns training a bit more hostile for someone else.