Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Ron Kantowski on a former NFL quarterback who is carrying a message from Jesus Christ

Contrary to what his statistics suggest, Randall Cunningham didn't have spring-loaded arms and legs, like the triple-threat quarterback in the old electric football game some of us played as kids.

But as his 29,997 NFL career passing yards attest, he sure could pass.

As his 4,928 career rushing yards illustrate, he sure could run.

And although he was never called on to kick that much, at least as a pro, he sure could do that, too.

During the 1989 season, Cunningham, who was UNLV's only two-time All-American as a punter, not a quarterback, got off an Energizer Bunny of a punt - it kept going and going and going against the Giants. When Dave Meggett finally tracked it down, the odometer said he was 91 yards from the line of scrimmage. Cunningham's prodigious boot went into the record book as the fourth-longest punt in NFL history.

By most accounts, what made it so amazing is that Cunningham was kicking into the wind. But this is where the man himself disagrees. As he recalls it, the wind was at his back, and it was blowing the football around like it was George Clooney's swordfish boat in "The Perfect Storm."

"If Dave Meggett hadn't picked that ball up, it would still be rolling today, that's how hard the wind was blowing," Cunningham told a captive audience at the Christian Businessmen's Network luncheon at Big Dog's on West Sahara last week.

That Cunningham was chosen to talk to the Christian businessmen was no accident. He was once one himself, having owned a local granite and countertop business before making a spectacular comeback with the Minnesota Vikings en route to his fourth Pro Bowl berth in 1998.

"I guess God wanted me back on my knees," Cunningham said about taking an NFL sabbatical to lay tile.

There was a bit of laughter - but just a bit - because when it comes to his faith, Cunningham rarely jokes. He credits it for making a successful transition to life without football. In addition to owning a recording studio, he's now an ordained minister. In October, he will move his congregation into a $5 million, 17,000-square-foot church at 325 E. Windmill Road.

"It's about five streets down from Popeyes Chicken," Cunningham said as many in the audience shagged a second piece of cheesecake. "I know some of you guys know where that is."

OK, so he does crack wise every once in a while.

But it's rare that Cunningham speaks a sentence without referencing Jesus Christ, who, no offense to Keith Jackson or Freddy Barnett or Randy Moss or anybody else who ever bailed him out with a clutch third-down reception, is and always will be his go-to guy.

Cunningham helped revolutionize the quarterback position with his amazing feats of athleticism. Along with Warren Moon, he proved once and for all that black NFL quarterbacks could be successful and consistently successful. Although he never won a Super Bowl, most experts figure that Cunningham's stats and longevity will be his ticket to the Hall of Fame.

"If I do get in," he said, still looking fit in a crisp light blue shirt and gray slacks, "I will go to the Hall of Fame and speak a message about Jesus Christ."

Which, most would agree, is different than speaking a message about Al Davis or Mike Ditka, a devil of a coach whom, Cunningham said with delicious irony, he almost wound up playing for in New Orleans when his relationship with Eagles coach Ray Rhodes soured and he retired (the first time) after the 1995 season.

He admits to wandering around life's pocket without much of a clue in those days. But he kept coming back to a conversation he had in 1987 on the golf course at Spanish Trail with the Rev. Tom Cameron, who had asked Cunningham about his faith.

"After about three or four hours on the golf course with me, he knew I hadn't accepted Jesus Christ," Cunningham recalled.

"He wanted to know if I wanted to accept Jesus. I asked him, 'How long does it take?' "

Cunningham said he didn't go to college to be a pastor or anything like that. He went to college to play football. He didn't get his UNLV degree until 2002.

He is proud to have graduated, satisfied with what he accomplished in football. But he said it's not about winning three MVPs or playing in four Pro Bowls. And it's not about those highlight reel plays he made as the "Ultimate Weapon" on "Monday Night Football," or punting the ball 91 yards at the Meadowlands.

But if those things help put fannies in the church pews on Sunday, bring out the little felt football and dial up the vibration knob. Randall Cunningham is still more than ready to play that game.

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