A Hollywood scriptwriter would have been proud.

It was one of the most intense moments in preseason camp. The kicker at the back of the line walks out to the field, and all eyes are on him. He was once forgotten, surpassed by two of his peers who were offered spots on the team as he prepared for life as an ordinary student—or so he thought.

Now, this kicker once buried beneath those chosen before him was ascending, and this was his opportunity to make his mark. With more than a hundred sets of eyes piercing through him, with practice drawing to a close, he prepared to approach the football.

Before being bombarded by confusion coming from his teammates in close proximity, the head coach approaches the young man, presumably to offer some sage words of wisdom before such a pressure-packed kick.

“I went up there, and Dabo looks at me and he’s like, ‘What’s your first name again?’” the kicker recalled with a smile. “After that, I was like, “Okay, at least give him a reason to remember it.’”

Now, everyone in Clemson knows Greg Huegel’s name—both the spelling and the pronunciation. The sophomore who made the team during walk-on tryouts proved his worth by making that kick to conclude practice, and he has continued to prove himself long since Dabo Swinney learned how to talk about him.

“From then on, he called me ‘Huegel’,” the Blythewood High School graduate said. “Eventually, ‘Greg’ started coming out.”

It has been a rapid rise for Huegel, who began camp exactly one month before the season opener at the very bottom of the depth chart and ascended to make his debut in front of a sellout crowd at home during Saturday’s win over Wofford as the starter. To hear him tell it, playing college football was a dream he kept pursuing, even while his life was on a more predictable course.

Huegel enrolled at Clemson to be an architect. The profession runs in his family, and he knew that was what he wanted to do with his life.

But his desires never fully excluded football. Upon arriving on campus, Huegel decided to attend walk-on tryouts in the fall of 2014.

“It went well, or at least, I thought it went well,” Huegel said. “But they didn’t decide to bring me on.”

Last fall, Huegel sat at Clemson football games and wondered what might have been. People around him wandered before the game and during halftime, but not Huegel. Not the young man whose reality could never quite outrun his dream.

He watched the kickers warm up, studied the whole process. He focused on every detail as if he were the next one to attempt a practice kick, understanding his role as an onlooker.

What Huegel did not know was that he had made an impression on the Clemson coaching staff—so much so, in fact, that they called him back a year later to fill a void on the depth chart.

When Huegel came to camp, he was not overwhelmed. After all, unlike so many other walk-ons who have a hope and a prayer, he knew what he wanted and pursued it.

He spent time kicking on practice fields at home for hours on end. He made highlight tapes. Even in his younger days, Huegel shagged balls for his brother, who kicked at South Carolina. He was preparing for his moment, and he never stopped.

“I never knew how big of a school I would be at, or if I would be at a school at all,” Huegel said. “All I knew was this was the dream I wanted to accomplish, and that’s the type of work that I had to put into it.”

The dream was technically born in ninth grade, when Huegel eschewed soccer for football because “I wanted to hit some people”. The plan was for him to play safety, but when the varsity team had a need at kicker, Huegel and a friend stepped up from the “B” team to fill the void.

The friend became the punter, and Huegel became a three-time all-region kicker. He never played safety again.

Throughout camp, Huegel’s name came up again and again. He consistently made his kicks. The ball sounded different off of his foot—powerful and true. The legend grew when Swinney joked about finding Huegel during a beer can kicking competition in a Bi-Lo parking lot.

“The Grocery Store Kicker” was born, and the name stuck—even after Swinney and the rest of the press corps worked out the phonetic kinks of “Huegel”.

“Hey, a nickname is better than nothing, right?” the unlikely starter at placekicker joked, his grin giving off a happy-go-lucky vibe that might best explain his immediate embrace of his role.

Huegel says he does not feel the pressure others on the outside assume exists. Being a kicker in a high-stakes football game requires something extra between the ears, and Huegel seems to be able to live in the moment without becoming overwhelmed.

“It’s the same grass, it’s the same uprights,” Huegel said, “so why overthink it?”

Even with the looming specter of a returning starter in Ammon Lakip, Huegel is unfazed. He sees an opportunity for growth where others see a threat to his newfound authority.

“I don’t even look at him as a competitor right now,” Huegel said. “I look at him as a teammate. I know when he comes back, he’ll give me a run for my money.”

The inevitability of order returning in October seems less likely now that Huegel has asserted himself. He shows no signs of shrinking from any challenges. He has no misconceptions about pressure or the limelight.

Most of all, he has no fear regarding his role, the same role he has been working to acquire for years—even when it seemed he was giving up his pursuit. He has a firm grip on the reality of his daily life now as the starting kicker on a team with significant aspirations.

Whether people know his name or not, Greg Huegel keeps kicking footballs. It’s just like he always hoped it would be.