Zak Keefer

zak.keefer@indystar.com

Jack Doyle isn’t real. He can’t be. He’s too nice, too professional, too damn perfect. He’s like a Disney character, engineered with an unshakable moral compass, the guy who says all the right things and does all the right things and never makes mention of it.

If your daughter is returning home from college with a new boyfriend, you’d want that boyfriend to be Jack Doyle. If you’re starting a business, you’d want Jack Doyle to be your CEO. If you’re starting a team, you’d want to sign Jack Doyle. If you’re voting for president, you’d probably want to vote for Jack Doyle (especially, ahem, this year).

Teammate T.Y. Hilton has a nickname for the Indianapolis Colts’ fourth-year tight end. He calls him Tim Duncan. “He’s Mr. Fundamental around here,” Hilton explains. Rob Chudzinski calls him “Mr. Reliable.” Andrew Luck calls him Clint Eastwood. “A strong, silent guy,” Luck says. D’Qwell Jackson calls him his favorite teammate. Chuck Pagano calls him “one of the best pros we have on this team.”

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Two years ago, in a special teams meeting, coordinator Tom McMahon noticed long snapper Matt Overton’s bracelet. It was one of the popular WWJD ones – What Would Jesus Do? Only McMahon was unfamiliar with the acronym. “What’s that stand for?” punter Pat McAfee asked him. “I don’t know,” McMahon replied. “Walk with Jack Doyle? That’s what I would do.”

So McMahon had bracelets made up for the whole unit. “WWJD,” they read. Walk with Jack Doyle.

Jack Doyle’s an everyman All-American, a hero straight out of a comic book, walking, talking, touchdown-catching proof that nice guys can finish first. He plays tight end for the team he grew up cheering on. He married his college girlfriend. A day after she gave birth to their first child this August, a baby boy, Doyle was back at practice.

His favorite movie is “Forrest Gump.” (Note: Everybody likes “Forrest Gump.”) His favorite food is pizza. (Note: Everybody likes pizza.) In the Colts’ media guide, each player is asked to name the one thing they can’t live without. Some list their iPhone. Some say massages. Jack Doyle’s answer? His family. They’re asked to name three people – living or dead – they’d most like to have lunch with. Some say President Obama. Or Muhammad Ali. Or Steve Jobs. Or LeBron James.

Jack Doyle’s answer? His grandparents.

“When he does make a mistake, which is obviously very rare, the coaches will point it out on the film, like, ‘Look, even Jack makes mistakes!’ ” says Overton. “It’s like, oh my God! He’s human!”

“Even if I tried to say something bad about Jack Doyle, I couldn’t even think of a lie to tell you,” says practice squad quarterback Stephen Morris. “If there’s one fault of his, maybe it’s this: He spends too much time here at the facility.”

So, the man’s lone fault is … he works too hard.

Doyle’s story reads like fiction. He caught only 21 passes as a high school senior at nearby Cathedral and scrounged up just one Division I offer. He turned that offer into four years at Western Kentucky, figuring he’d end up as a physical education teacher one day. He went undrafted. Was cut by Tennessee. He was in the Titans’ offices, ready to sign a practice squad contract in September of 2013, when he got word. The Colts had claimed him off waivers. He was coming home.

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The first person he called was his mom. She was in the check-out lane at the grocery store. So excited, she ran out of the store and forgot her credit card.

Four years later he still treats every practice like he’s the 53rd guy on the 53-man roster. He’s as respected a player as there is in that locker room – yes, that includes Frank Gore, Robert Mathis, even Luck. And now he’ll be counted on more than ever before. Dwayne Allen is down, limping around on crutches, nursing that sore ankle. Coby Fleener is in New Orleans.

Jack Doyle, for the time being, is tight end No. 1 for the 2-4 Colts.

“Here’s the story with Jack Doyle,” explains left tackle Anthony Castonzo. “He comes in here, every single day, and works his ass off. End of story.”

Doyle is all substance and no splash. He’s steady. He’s the sort of selfless do-whatever’s-asked type of player fans appreciate and coaches crave. He has played special teams. He has caught passes. He has blocked blitzing linebackers. He has played H-back. He hasn’t missed a single game due to injury in four years.

He’s having a career year in a contract season. From 2013-15, he had 35 catches for 219 yards and three touchdowns. Total. Through six games this fall, he’s nearly surpassed all of those numbers: 20 catches for 204 yards and three scores. (He's tied with Hilton for the team lead in touchdowns.) Twenty-one catches as a high school senior; 20 through six games in the NFL. Not bad.

But with Doyle, it’s never been about statistics. Colts scouts use him as an example when evaluating outside talent – there’s more to a player than what he puts on film. Doyle has proved it. He won’t wow you with measurables but rather his consistency. He's earned every snap of playing time the old-fashioned way: He worked and kept his mouth shut.

“I’m not going to say, he came here on a workout, however many years ago it was, and then we signed him and said, ‘Yeah, that guy is going to be what he is today,’ ” says Pagano. “I’d be lying if I told you that.

“You will see him walking down the hall and walking into the lunch line and you would never picture him doing what he does on the football field.”

Doyle’s quotes are the vanilla version of vanilla; ask him to talk about himself and his cheeks redden like a cherry. It’s clear: He’d rather be at the dentist. After his two-touchdown performance in the season opener, the best game of Doyle’s young NFL career, he was especially candid. “It was fun,” he said. “You just try and do the best you can. When the ball comes your way, you try to catch it.”

When the ball comes your way, you try to catch it.

Jack Doyle: A sports writer’s dream.

Following this exchange, a reporter suggests he’s like a New England Patriot – selfless and subdued, always placing team above self. Doyle shakes his head. “No, no, no,” he says, laughing. “That’s a curse word around here.” Jack Doyle, an Indianapolis boy to his core.

It gets you thinking: Has this guy ever done anything wrong in his life?

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Doyle cautions. “I got some C's on my report card.”

There's our proof. He is human.

“I’m just average, I’m just normal!” Doyle explains. “I go home and hang with my family! I watch TV!”

His agent, Indianapolis-based Buddy Baker, tells a story. On a client retreat a few years back in the Dominican Republic, a group gathered to play volleyball in the pool. The game grew heated, with some violent spikes. Doyle went through the motions. “What’s up?” Baker asked him after the game. “There were women playing, and I wanted to be respectful,” came Jack’s response.

Mr. Fundamental. Mr. Reliable. Call him whatever you want. Never will his consistency be more tested than Sunday in Tennessee, on the field of the team that cut him four years ago. The Colts are at a crossroads, stuck at 2-4 on the season, in dead last in the woeful AFC South. The season could be saved on Sunday. Or it could sink.

His teammates would be wise to heed the wisdom of their starting tight end, the Indy kid who loves Forrest Gump, pizza and his family.

Walk With Jack Doyle.

Call IndyStar reporter Zak Keefer at (317) 444-6134. Follow him on Twitter: @zkeefer.

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