DAVIS, Calif. -- On this most recent sixth of August, a foal entered the world in the Texas panhandle town of Canyon. This was no ordinary animal, but rather a clone of a rare breed known as a Przewalski's horse – once so critically endangered that it was classified as "extinct in the wild," meaning the only of its kind could be found in zoos and private reserves.
This tiny colt-to-be was given the name Kurt, in honor of the late Kurt Benirschke, father of Cal Aggie Athletics Hall of Famer Rolf Benirschke, who established San Diego's Frozen Zoo in 1975. Thanks to this facility, the elder Benirschke placed living cells from a Przewalski's horse into cryogenic storage back in 1980. Forty years later, through advancements in genetics, the birth of this baby equine named Kurt continues the miraculous comeback of a disappearing species, while paying tribute to a brilliant physician and scientist.
When the San Diego Zoo contacted Rolf earlier this fall about the naming of the horse, Benirschke could not have blessed the decision with greater appreciation.
And in an odd way, the little foal – born more than a thousand miles away from Benirschke's hometown of La Jolla – is an emblem of all parts of the former Aggie football and soccer great, one that goes much further than the literal continuation of a father's traits. Benirschke is a rare breed with a curiosity for science, a devotion to animals and the protection of endangered species, a passion for giving and paying forward, and the miraculous comeback from the most dire of circumstances to a place of inspiration and hope.
Today, Benirschke remains a prominent philanthropic figure in the San Diego community, and continues to support the university from which he graduated some 43 years ago. He has contributed to Team Aggie, both men's soccer and football, and the construction of UC Davis Health Stadium. More recently, Benirschke supported the Phil Wells Memorial Endowment, in honor of his Aggie football teammate; and was a central figure in creating the statue of legendary UC Davis coach Jim Sochor that overlooks the stadium entrance.
BECOMING AN AGGIE
The story of Rolf Benirschke has been told many times over, including his recent appearance on Dan Hawkins' Uncommon Engineering podcast, his 2013 Aggie Legacy Award selection, and his autobiography, Alive & Kicking. Oddly, the eventual San Diego Chargers Hall of Famer had little interest in football early in his life.
Benirschke's initial upbringing took place in New England, as his father worked as a pathologist at Harvard then later at Dartmouth. The family then moved out to La Jolla when Kurt was hired at UC San Diego's then-new medical school. Rolf was an ice hockey player, whose team had won the previous state bantam championship. His sister Ingrid was an avid figure skater and brother Stephen excelled as a skier. Thus, the transplantation to California meant a cultural shift for their sports activities.
Benirschke pivoted from ice hockey to soccer, then began kicking for his high school football team thanks to the rise in soccer-style placekickers during that era. He proved so skilled on the gridiron that he earned the attention of such programs as Stanford and USC – so much so that the latter's head coach, John Robinson, admonished Sochor for poaching the La Jolla High grad from under him. By this point, Benirschke was already on campus, interested in studying zoology, with no intention of playing football.
After getting the call from his peer Robinson, Sochor became intrigued: somewhere at UC Davis was a freshman who evidently turned down a scholarship offer from USC. "Armed with the name," said Benirschke, "he tracked me down and convinced me to go out and play my freshman year."
Benirschke also flourished in the university's massive intramural sports program, and quickly discovered that many of his peers on the IM scene were members of the Aggie varsity soccer program. This resulted in a suggestion to play for head men's soccer coach, Will Lotter. It also meant he would face a choice: in the collegiate world, both football and soccer compete in the fall. Benirschke began preparing himself to give Sochor the news that he was opting for soccer.
"It was a small factor that it's 110 degrees and the football guys are dying while the soccer guys are running around in shorts and no shirts," Benirschke recalls.
Not wishing to lose his talented kicker, Sochor met with Lotter and made an arrangement: Benirschke could play both sports. Of course, this meant some scheduling conflicts. In some cases, it was as feasible as playing a soccer game in the afternoon, changing into football gear, then heading to Toomey Field for the football game that night. In other situations, the two teams competed so far apart that Sochor and Lotter had to negotiate which team was entitled to Benirschke's abilities.
And that, Benirschke says, is how he ended up playing football. He had no interesting in playing the sport, but got talked into it. He thought he would give it up for soccer, but was allowed to play both.
"Obviously, it changed my life in every way, and I have Jim Sochor and Will Lotter to thank for that," Benirschke said. "Had I chosen Stanford, I know that I would have just kicked, and who knows what would have happened. At Davis, I could have the best of everything."
"MR. IRRELEVANT"
Benirschke enjoyed a great athletics career at UC Davis, setting school records and earning All-Far West Conference honors in football while also ranking among the soccer team's goals leaders. However, his true aspirations remained in veterinary medicine, and to work with endangered species. While completing his undergraduate studies, Benirschke returned home to intern at the San Diego Zoo, right around the time his father was launching the Frozen Zoo, and even got his name listed among the credits on a research paper.
In the spring of 1977, he was accepted to Cornell, which has a leading ornithology lab. But also in the spring of 1977, the reigning Super Bowl champions came calling. The Oakland Raiders, who had just snared Aggie wide receiver Rich Martini in seventh round, selected Benirschke with what was officially the final pick in the 1977 draft – a spot nicknamed "Mr. Irrelevant." The legendary George Blanda had retired two years earlier, and Oakland was clinging to another aging veteran, Errol Mann.
"My poor dad. We didn't have a TV growing up, and he never watched football," Benirschke said. "He got a call the day I was drafted. 'Dr. B, we just heard Rolf was drafted… congratulations!' My dad has this long pause on his end of the phone, then says, 'Drafted? I thought the war was over.' So we had a lot to learn."
Benirschke credits his experience at UC Davis for preparing him for the intense pressure of playing for the best team in the NFL, to stand among the likes of Kenny Stabler and Gene Upshaw. He also found he could compete favorably with the other kickers in camp. Ultimately, he was dealt to an even better situation: the Chargers acquired him via waivers prior to the 1978 season to replace their previous kicker, Ray Wersching.
Benirschke was back in his hometown. The 22-year-old version of himself didn't know he was about to play for one of the most explosive offenses in NFL history under the Bolts' new head coach, Don Coryell. Benirschke also didn't yet know that he would face a harrowing, life-threatening ordeal just as this new career was getting underway.
CHOOSING BETTER OVER BITTER
Early in his NFL career, Benirschke was diagnosed with Crohn's disease, a form of inflammatory bowel disease. He experienced pain and discomfort in his abdomen, which escalated to chronic fever and diarrhea. However, the Chargers were a team on the rise in 1979. The Air Coryell era of franchise had begun. Dan Fouts was on his way to becoming just the second quarterback to surpass 4,000 passing yards in a season, while receivers Charlie Joiner and John Jefferson were both heading toward 1,000-yard totals. Not wanting to miss out on this budding excitement, Benirschke kept his head down and his overall malaise to himself.
"You have to understand, I was a kicker, not really a football player," he said. "Football players were getting concussed and tearing their knees. I, for all intents and purposes, had a stomach ache."
Part way through that third season, on the team's flight home from New England, Benirschke collapsed on the plane. Clinging to life, he underwent emergency surgery, which resulted in further complications and put him under intensive care for more than a month. Benirschke was fitted with two ostomy bags, and barely weighed 120 pounds. In his mind, his career in the NFL was done. So, he thought, was any possibility of a social life. After all, how does a person enjoy a normal, active life with two bags surgically attached to his body?
"From my view, there was nothing in my life I could do," Benirschke said. "I loved sports of all kind – skiing, tennis, loved the beach. I'll never do that. I was making my living as a professional athlete, and I'm thinking, I'm sure that's over. And I was 24 and single. I liked girls, and I was thinking, that's over, too. I kept thinking, Lord, why didn't you take my life?"
Benirschke did not die in that hospital. And now, had to figure out how to live.
"It's up to the patient to make a decision," says Benirschke. "Am I going to stay bitter, or am I going to get better? And I was bitter: I was angry, I was scared, I felt like my whole life was taken away. You're asking the 'why me' question, which is really the wrong question. You go there for a while and grieve, but ultimately it doesn't get you anywhere. Then you ask 'what now, where do I go from here?'"
A WAR HERO, A 300-POUND LINEMAN AND THE EPIC IN MIAMI
Early in his recovery, Benirschke received the book I'm No Hero by Charlie Plumb, a U.S. Navy pilot who was imprisoned in a POW camp after getting shot down near Hanoi, Vietnam. Plumb faced torture and degradation for nearly six years – 2,103 days, to be exact – but summoned a strong spirit in order to survive. Long before psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun created an actual term for it, Captain Charlie demonstrated a phenomenon known as "post-traumatic growth," during which a person does not suffer but rather improves in the wake of a harrowing trial.
Inspired by Plumb's story, Benirschke began his comeback, quite literally one step at a time. Like Plumb did in the Viet Cong war camp, he learned to break down his recovery into small, achievable goals. Preparing Benirschke for the road to recovery was his athletic experience, where incremental and seemingly imperceptible steps frequently result in dramatic long-term progress.
"It was literally getting up to walk to the mailbox and back. And then the next day, shuffling to the second mailbox and back," said Benirschke. "And that was a big victory for me. I still had sutures in me, and I literally could hardly walk. That day turned to a week, which turned into a month, and so on."
During a visit to San Diego Stadium for a home game against Pittsburgh that November, Benirschke was invited to serve as an honorary captain during the pregame kickoff. He was so weak that he feared he could not even complete the walk back to the sideline. The Chargers' 300-pound defensive lineman Louie Kelcher, a man who Benirschke later described as having a "heart bigger than his body," put a No. 6 Chargers jersey over Benirschke's head, took him by the hand and walked him toward the midfield.
When the San Diego Union-Tribune revisted that moment among its all-time area sports highlights, Benirschke recalled the sound of more than 51,000 fans cheering his return. As he told staff writer Don Norcross, "I remember that day vividly. It inspired me to push myself."
Kelcher also has fond memories of that moment, and still has a framed print of the famous Don Bartletti photo on his wall. As he recalled in 2013 when Benirschke won the Aggie Legacy Award, "I was going out for the flip, and I thought, why not take my little buddy with me? I felt like it would be good for him to put the jersey on again and be a part of the team."
Kelcher was not the only person who felt Benirschke deserved a chance to wear the Charger jersey again. Coach Coryell and team owner Gene Klein welcomed him back so long as he could demonstrate to the medical staff that it was safe to do so. In fact, the Aggie alum did return to action in 1980, and responded with career highs of 24 field goals and 118 points. A year later, he led the league with 55 PATs, and again ranked among the NFL's top scorers. Benirschke earned All-Pro honors in 1980 and 1982, and finished his Chargers' tenure as the No. 3 most accurate kicker in league history.
In perhaps his most famous moment of his career, Benirschke scored the game-winning field goal of the AFL divisional against the Dolphins, a contest dubbed the Epic in Miami. He had missed a relatively easy 27-yard attempt earlier in overtime, allowing the Dolphins a similar chance. But when Charger Leroy Jones blocked Uwe von Schamann's kick on the other end of the field, San Diego's hopes remained alive. Fouts and the offense marched the Chargers back to the Miami red zone yet again. Benirschke received a second chance, and made good: his 29-yard field goal lifted his team to a 41-38 victory in the 14th minute of overtime.
After all, Benirschke already knew a thing or two about second chances.
THE REAL-LIFE JERRY MAGUIRE
Well before Benirschke's illness and his return, he became associated with another key figure who helped shape his life's path. Around the time of the 1977 draft, Coach Sochor connected his star kicker to a young sports agent, relatively fresh out of Cal law school. This agent had served as a resident advisor while finishing up his law degree, and his first client was a fellow Golden Bear who once lived in the dormitories under his watch. That player was Steve Bartkowski, the No. 1 pick in the 1975 NFL Draft. The agent's name is Leigh Steinberg, who later went on to become one of the premier sports agents in the business, and who inpsired the titular character in the hit film, Jerry Maguire.
Benirschke, the third member of Steinberg's storied roster, remembers some sage advice from his agent: "Leigh said, 'You have an opportunity to deflect the attention that is focused on you to something that is important to you,'" said Benirschke. "For me, it was the zoo and the plight of endangered species. So I created a program called Kicks For Critters. It was the first of its kind in the league, and it was really because of Leigh's encouragement and guidance."
Benirschke pledged $50 for every field goal he made, and encouraged teammates and members of the community to support the program. He also learned of a blood drive that took place in San Diego during his recovery. Benirschke's numerous surgeries had required 78 pints, and fans lined up to replenish the San Diego Blood Bank's supply. This began the Chargers' Blood Drive, held each year in November. It lasted for 39 years until the Chargers' departure for Los Angeles, and even set a record as the largest single-day drive.
In 1983, Benirschke's philanthropic efforts helped him garner what is now known as the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year. That trophy, based on an image of Alabama lineman Steve Wright (it wasn't named for the Chicago Bears running back until 1999) still sits proudly behind Benirschke's desk, next to a framed "Get Well Soon, Rolf" jersey.
Steinberg's hope, according to Benirschke, was that the Charger kicker would become connected with the leadership of the San Diego community. Instead, the he has become a leader in that community, and Benirschke still appreciates his agent's urging some 40 years later. "I'm so fortunate to stay here in San Diego, and my career exposed me to all of these amazing companies in this incredible city that have served me and my journey in life."
When the COVID-19 pandemic forced people to shelter at home, Benirschke once again put his community presence to good use. He reached out to various San Diego-area sports celebrities to participate in a PSA that advised residents to "get off the field, stay on the bench." Former Padre stars like Trevor Hoffman and Dave Winfield, MLB managers Bud Black and Dave Roberts participated in the campaign. So did offensive lineman Ed White and wide receiver Charlie Joiner – two of Benirschke's teammates in the 70s and 80s. The San Diego Zoo followed suit with a series of photos showing various animals literally sitting on a bench. Carlos Hernandez, the Venezuelan catcher who helped the Padres win the 1998 National League pennant, shared a similar video in Spanish.
"THE GUARD RAILS OF LIFE"
Besides the awards from the league and the press, Benirschke also found himself as the recipient of something else: letters. He recalls coming back from road games to find 50-60 pieces of correspondence in his locker. They were from fans who also underwent ostomy surgery; fans who wondered if they, too, could return to a normal life as a student, athlete, teacher, parent.
"This was the quintessential closet illness: no one talks about this," he said. "And yet there are 110,000 ostomy surgeries per year, and every one of them is fundamentally life-changing."
Though he attempted to respond to each letter one by one, Benirschke soon found that approach impractical and overwhelming. Instead, he looked to the manufacturer of his ostomy appliances, with the hopes that he could reach an entire nation's worth of people going through the same challenges. This led to an initiative called Great Comebacks, designed as a community for people to share their experiences and find encouragement from others.
The stories poured in. Police officers had returned to the force after undergoing surgery. Triathletes returned to the course. One account came from a person who climbed Mount Everest despite being equipped with an ileostomy bag. Al Geiberger, best known for firing a PGA Tour record of 59 at the 1977 Memphis Classic, returned to the links after meeting Benirschke, and went on to post 10 titles on the senior tour.
"I could go on and on about these amazing stories," Benirschke said. "It blew open a future for patients, and then it became a huge tool for the nurses who took care of us. It changed my life and sent me on this road to do something for patients who go through my illness or my surgery. It has been the most fulfilling thing in my life."
In the mid 1980s, George Herbert Walker Bush was in office as the U.S. Vice President. His son, Marvin, was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, went through the same life-saving emergency surgery as Benirschke, and was struggling with the same despair that the Chargers kicker once felt. Benirschke called the younger Bush while he was still in the hospital.
"His words were incredibly inspirational and helped me look into the future with a sense of hope and optimism," recalled Marvin when Benirschke received the Aggie Legacy Award.
Marvin Bush later paid the gesture forward, reaching out to Tip O'Neill when the former House speaker underwent colon surgery. Furthermore, after O'Neill retired, he donated his Congressional Papers, a life's volume of correspondence, writings, artifacts, even scrapbooks. Filed away in this massive treasure trove is an audio recording entitled, "You're Not Alone Presented by Rolf Benirschke-Candid Discussions with People Who Have Overcome Ostomy Surgery."
Even now, Benirschke is currently working on an app that virtually "holds the hand of the patient" during the six-month journey to recovery: video inspiration, educational information, words of encouragement. He also looks back at his near-death experience as the greatest moment in his life, not because he would ever want to relive the ordeal, but rather because it truly forced him to determine how he would live his life. "I believe God gifted everyone one of us with an indomitable spirit," Benirschke said. "But for most of us, it lies latent, dormant, because most of us never come across something as defining and difficult as that.
"As I like to say, most of us drive between the guard rails of life. We may bounce off here or hit a bad bump there, but it's only when you end up in the ditch, where you go through that. And I get so inspired by those people because their stories are amazing."
COACH SOCHOR
Of course, besides with his own parents, with an honorable mention of Leigh Steinberg, few people have shaped Benirschke's life like his UC Davis football coach. He treasured his relationship with Sochor long after his final kick in an Aggie uniform. In fact, when he started the Rolf Benirschke Legacy Foundation, he named an award after Sochor, presented to an individual who personifies the coach's qualities of truth, unity and togetherness.
"I'd introduce him to my new friends and what they were doing," Benirschke said. "Here's this diminutive little guy that I would brag about to my friends. At the end of the week, after they spent time with him, they would say, 'I can see why that guy is so special to you, he's special to us now.' They embraced him, and he became part of the family down here."
When Sochor passed away in the fall of 2015, the university held a tribute event at the stadium during the following spring. Benirschke had hundreds of souvenir coins made for the event, with the phrases "Aggie Pride" and "Trust, Unity, Togetherness" on the flip side. He was one of a select panel of friends who had the honor to speak and share memories of his coach, and he was a lead contributor toward the Jim Sochor statue that was unveiled during the 2016 season.
"It wasn't just me. You talk to any player who played under him, and you knew that he cared about you. He didn't just care about you because you're a good football player, he cared about you because you're a good person. He cared about your grades, and as you grew up, about your wife and your kids," said Benirschke, who with his wife Mary raised four chldren.
"I didn't realize how unique that was until I get to look back. I get teary-eyed at the relationship that developed over the years."
THE GIFT OF GIVING
A little more than two years removed from Kurt Benirschke's passing, Rolf is keenly aware of the traits he acquired from his father. He says he wished he got more, that the elder family member "was so bright and such a scientist," but one can argue those qualities were indeed passed along. After all, Rolf was initially headed to Cornell's graduate program, and in 2004, was inducted into the Academic All-America Hall of Fame.
Still, Benirschke proudly claims inheriting his father's "curiosity gene," his insatiable desire to learn. And he clearly received a similar trait for generosity. His Legacy foundation has raised more than $5 million for various charities. Great Comebacks is now in its 36th year, with the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America and ConvaTec providing support to IBD research and educational programs. The Kicks For Critters promotion later grew into a major gala event now known as the San Diego Zoo Food, Wine and Brew Celebration. It brings in top vendors and entertainment acts each year, and has raised millions toward the protection of endangered wildlife around the globe.
In 2004, Benirschke started a program called Kick Hep C, raising awareness and education surrounding the disease he contracted from a blood transfusion in 1979. He underwent treatment across a span of eight years, then after learning that his body was free of the virus, he became a spokesperson for the millions of Americans infected with the disease. Benirschke has authored two books since the release of Alive & Kicking, Great Comebacks and Embracing Life, both of which contain more inspiring stories for the benefit of those who went through IBD and ostomy surgeries.
More recently, the gratitude he feels for the health care industry has resulted in his foundation of the Grateful Patient Project (www.gratefulpatient.org). The GPP is effectively the expansion of Great Comebacks, allowing a platform for people to share stories of appreciation for health care providers who supported them through all types of illnesses and recoveries.
And yet, for all of his generosity, Benirschke considers himself the beneficiary, not the benefactor. When he was able to pivot the Legacy Golf Invitational to support charities impacted by COVID, he beamed at the idea of handing out $20,000 at a time. "We're going to walk in and give them a check. 'Bless you, keep up the good work, what you're doing is amazing.' The response we'll get from those people, who are on the front lines doing this really hard work… how lucky are we that we get to do that?"
Benirschke recently counseled a professional figure skater who underwent ostomy surgery three weeks prior. Never mind the positive vibes this young woman must have felt on her end of the phone call, the Aggie Hall of Famer compared the rush on his side to that of a drug. "She has a great spirit already. It's going to be so fun to watch her get back to her job," he said, "and I get to participate in this journey."
Similarly, when he saw the San Diego sports stars take part in the #StayOnTheBenchSD campaign, Benirschke did not feel pride in what he had done so much as privileged for the opportunity to do it. "Football gave me this chance, and Leigh imparted on me this understanding that I had this unique platform that I could do good things with," Benirschke said.
And again, it's in the genes.
ABOUT UC DAVIS:
With the addition of equestrian and women's beach volleyball in 2018, more than 700 student-athletes represent the fifth-ranked public school in the nation on one of 25 intercollegiate athletics teams.
UC Davis, a national leader in Title IX gender equity and leadership, is centrally located between San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, and the Napa Valley; and offers an unrivaled student-athlete experience that features the ideal combination of elite academics, Division I athletics and personal growth.
Ranked annually in the top 10 in diversity and students' social mobility, UC Davis is uncommonly committed to preparing student-athletes for life after graduation with Aggie EVO — an innovative student-athlete outcomes program that helps young women and men develop passions, gain real-world experience, and enjoy a successful launch to full-time employment or graduate school. Through Aggie EVO, Intercollegiate Athletics provides unmatched resources and a vast network of working professionals to ensure post-graduation success for its student-athletes.
