As far as trick plays in football go, the fake punt doesn't rate very high on the flashy scale. Triple reverses, modified fleaflickers, Boise State's Statue of Liberty play, and the like all carry more visual excitement, more drama, more zazz. But I humbly submit here that a successful fake punt both emboldens the team who pulls it off and irrevocably crushes the one that suffers the indignity.Sure, it's probably only a few yards and a first down. But it represents a renewal, a refreshing dash of hope, possibly even the hint of resurrection. Sure, it may look as if you were giving up and heading back to the bench to conduct a post-mortem on the drive's proceedings. Yet, that glimmer of hope in Coach's eye wasn't ready to dim just yet. "Head back in there. Give it one more shot." And it paid off. All is right again.And just as happy as you are now, the other team is crushed. Demoralized. Perhaps considering a career change. They gave it their best, their all, their everything. And as successful as they appeared then, along comes some lowly frickin' punter to muck the whole thing up. "Great," they think. "Now the punter thinks he can pass (or run)." And pass (or run) he does. And then he celebrates in whatever weird and off-putting manner punters celebrate - maybe a spastic twitch or something. They're not used to celebrating like that, so it's unfamiliar and a little scary. Still, they're celebrating, and you're not. Back to the trenches, as Coach yells "Think maybe you can stop the PUNTER from throwing next time?!"And so, here's to you, Daniel Sepulveda - congratulations on your 32-yard fake punt pass last night. How does it feel to break the spirit of 53 men simultaneously?