Kickers are either the hero or the scapegoat. Punters are largely forgettable. Returners and coverage guys are just a slight intermission in between the real football.

But at Utah, the special teams unit alone is worth the price of admission and Utah’s No. 5 ranking -- its best since 2010 -- comes as much from these specialists as it does from the offense and defense.

It's a unit that features some of the team's most colorful personalities.

“They’re a different breed,” Utah coach Kyle Whittingham said. “I can’t tell you exactly why.”

It's an interesting cast of characters, perhaps more appropriate for the next Seth Rogen buddy comedy or the set-up line for a stand-up comedian's act. You have a father, an Australian who only started playing American football after arriving in Salt Lake City, a 5-foot-7 freshman who is the grandson of a best-selling author, an identical twin, and a guy nicknamed Boobie.

College football fans are quick to vilify kickers -- #collegekickers is a popular hashtag used to describe the all-too-familiar woes and general misery of college kicking games -- but Utah kickers wear that badge with pride. They respond that #SpecialistsArePeopleToo.

And really interesting ones at that.

As the oldest member of Utah's team, and as a father and husband, Andy Phillips is a sounding board for his Utes teammates when they need advice. Russ Isabella/USA TODAY Sports

The dad: Place-kicker Andy Phillips aka "Papa Phillips"

Most Thursday or Friday nights, Phillips can be found in his kitchen baking 300 cookies for his teammates. His wife, Megan, preps the cookie dough and leaves it to Andy to scoop the 300 individual cookies into baking trays.

At 26, Phillips is the oldest player on the Utah roster. He has a wife, a child and another year of eligibility.

His journey to football is well-documented: He's a former USA ski team member who chose an LDS mission in Norway over staying in the U.S. to compete for a spot on the 2010 Olympic team. He hadn’t played a snap of competitive football when he walked onto Utah’s team in 2012.

He credits becoming a father for a change in his approach to competitive sport, and it has made his role on the team more meaningful.

“[Fatherhood] has made me closer with a lot of my teammates because they come to me for advice,” Phillips said. “They know I’ve been through a lot. ... They see me as someone who can lead them and help them.”

He has too many responsibilities to drop everything and go golfing with the guys on an off day, but he can still quote the most recent Kendrick Lamar lyric. Some teammates jokingly call him “Papa Phillips” -- bringing 300 homemade cookies with him on game days reinforces that nickname.

He likes this new role, this new balancing act.

Teammates store dorm items and clothes in his basement when they leave for the summer. They go to him for advice on everything from football to girls to tackling (he’s not bad at it). And when wide receiver Tim Patrick bought a car last year, he brought Phillips with him to make sure everything was in order.

“He kind of took care of me,” long snapper Chase Dominguez said. “I went under his wing. ... Everyone can go to him with questions because he is a father and he has been through a lot.”

Utah freshman Britain Covey's contribution has come as a pleasant surprise. Ryan Kang/AP

The short guy: Returner Britain Covey

In 1989, Covey’s grandfather Stephen published the bestseller “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.”

Twenty-six years later, Britain Covey has found a way to be highly effective for the Utes. He’s the second-best freshman punt returner in the nation with 149 return yards and leads Utah wide receivers with 17 catches for 182 yards.

And all of this at his listed height of 5-foot-8*.

*“He might’ve been wearing high heels or something when he did the measurements, I’m not too sure,” punter Tom Hackett said. “He looks 5-foot-6 but I wouldn’t tell him that. ... He’s not very tall, can’t lift all that much but he somehow manages to get open and make people miss.”

“We like to mess with him sometimes because he’s a smaller player and to be honest, he doesn’t look like a D-I athlete,” Dominguez added. “He’s a little guy.”

Like Phillips, Covey has chosen a different route. In February he’ll be leaving for an LDS mission trip. He doesn’t know where exactly he’ll be headed yet, but he’s hoping for Great Britain, where his grandfather served.

Covey made the decision before the football season started. No matter how well his freshman year went, his goal was to be effective in a different way, in a different venue for his faith starting this upcoming offseason.

No, he didn’t expect to have this kind of a start to his college football career either. Neither did the coaches, but there hasn’t been any conversation among staff for Covey to stay. If anything, special teams coordinator Morgan Scalley said he respects Covey more for sticking to his original plan and not being swayed by his success.

“I get criticized quite a bit for leaving my college football career for two years,” Covey said. “A lot of people don’t think I’ll be the same when I come back but I guess I would just say that my priorities are set and I know that there are bigger things in life than football.”

Tom Hackett took Oregon by surprise with a run on a punt in Utah's win over Oregon. Scott Olmos/USA TODAY Sports

The Aussie: Punter Tom Hackett

Like Phillips, Hackett doesn’t come from a football background. He grew up playing Australian rules football and didn’t play American football until he landed in the states.

He remembers his first game with the Utes in 2012 and what he kept thinking.

What are all these yellow handkerchiefs?

“To have all these timeouts and flags flying around all the place, I just struggled to understand what the flags were for,” Hackett said. “When the ref would get on the mic and explain what was going on, I’d still have no idea what was going on.”

Three years later he won the Ray Guy Award as the nation’s best punter.

Hackett can be deadly accurate. Against Michigan in the opener, he placed a punt perfectly, placing the Wolverines less than a foot from the goal line. However, referees signaled a touchback.

Hackett was not pleased.

“I don’t always hit it like that,” Hackett said. “It’s not the first time a ref has screwed me on a call like that so I shouldn’t be all that surprised I guess.”

“When you only get about six plays a game and you get robbed, it’s pretty frustrating,” Covey said.

Hackett's accuracy punting is on par as the quarterbacks throwing the ball.

“Tom is pretty accurate with the football,” Utah quarterback Travis Wilson said. “It’s pretty amazing to see how he can hit targets just by doing his Aussie style punt.”

Hackett is a master of his craft, but he's also a home run interview.

Whether he’s describing teammates (Wilson is a "rude bastard," Covey is a "funny bugger") or describing his sport (“kicking bacon down a field for people's entertainment”), Hackett has been a player who constantly gets people talking. With no true star on the Utah football roster, maybe it makes the most sense that the punter -- the guy who no one knows on any other team -- would be the one on Utah’s team that makes fourth downs far more fun.

The anonymous one: Long-snapper Chase Dominguez

Dominguez just kind of fits in with everyone around campus.

No one knows that he’s one of the few players to have gotten a long-snapping scholarship straight out of high school. Or that his high school coach tried (unsuccessfully) to get him to play “a real football position,” like tight end. Or that he has an identical twin brother named Reid.

But that’s how he likes it.

“Keeping a low profile is the best thing,” Dominguez said. “If you don’t keep a low profile it’s because you’re not doing the job well.”

Dominguez has done his job very well. So, we’re not about to ruin that low-profile thing he has going.

The return man: Boobie Hobbs

Hobbs was 10 years old when Hurricane Katrina stole his city.

Ten years old was too young to really comprehend what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like the shelters. He didn’t like how his city or home looked after the rain stopped. He knew he was disappointed that his football season would be cut short, that he wouldn’t be able to play for a long time.

So when he finally could return to the field, he had a greater appreciation for the game.

“It taught me how to focus on the now, instead of worrying about the future,” Hobbs said. “That you need to go all out now because you never know what could happen.”

It wasn’t too long before Hobbs did start worrying about the future. When he was 17 years old he had a daughter (he also now has a 7-month old son).

After his daughter, Paisley, came along he knew that the now was still important, but he had to make a plan for his and his children’s future -- football allowed him to do both.

Like Phillips, he’s pulled between many worlds -- being a father, being a player, focusing on now, worrying about the future.

From the outside people notice his bleached dreads, his nose ring and the New Orleans drawl (“he’s about as hard to understand as I am sometimes,” Hackett said).

Inside the locker room, he’s that guy, the one who’s there for bigger purpose than just playing the game, the one who players know won’t be outworked.

“You’ve got to have a guy like Boobie on your team,” Covey said.

“He works his ass off,” Dominguez added. “Everything that he does is to the best of his ability.”

They are a motley crew and their connective tissue is that each of them bought in to the idea that they were not castoffs from offense or defense. Instead, their unique talents (and personalities) would blend together and benefit the team as much, if not more, than any quarterback or linebacker.

They’ve contributed on and off the field and have been a refreshing reminder that special teams can be fun and interesting -- and that #SpecialistsArePeopleToo.

“When you have your players that really buy in to the fact that specials teams can make a difference,” Scalley said. “That’s when special teams do make a difference.”