As one who hasn’t had a National Football League team to call his own since Rams owner Georgia W. Bush took her boy toys to St. Louis back in ’95, most all of my pigskin pleasures have come from the college game. And, of course, those holy moments when the Wasatch Wasps and the Park City Miners mix it up.
The upside to not being emotionally invested in the NFL is that it frees up Sundays, big time. Not that actually spending the day in front of a cathode-ray tube in this age of “TiVo” would ever be an issue. Unless your real-time obsessions are truly running amok, “kickoff” is whenever you wish it to be.
But, of course, that doesn’t help much if you have climbed on board the roller-coaster that comes with being a fan. In that case, no matter where you are, you need constant updates as to the ebb and flow of the game in question. This is where the Internet cell phone becomes an appendage.
But, as stated previously, I no longer have the NFL to worry about. I’ve got that going for me. Why then, you might ask, will I be absorbed in the “NFL Draft” this coming weekend? Well, that’s because, when you don’t have a team, the draft is really all about college ball. And it’s also a damn good soap opera, that’s why.
It’s quite something, actually, when the pros gather for this annual rite, or “right,” as they see it, wherein each team takes turns, with an imposed time limit, selecting whichever eligible player, among those who haven’t yet been chosen, they figure most fits their needs.
As each team goes “on the clock,” adrenaline flows. There are scenarios aplenty that might play out and the front offices have been discussing and arguing over them since the available pool of talent became evident.
Depending upon which players are left “on the board” and whether or not they might want to “trade down” for additional “draft choices” from another team and thereby gamble that the guy they really want might still be available the next time their turn comes around, some sort of decision will be made.
It’s a highly-pressurized environment wherein the clock is ticking and the world is watching. Once a pick is made, it gets put under the microscope. Its molecular structure is analyzed. Oftentimes the team gets raked over the coals. “They what? They took the defensive end instead of the flashy multi-purpose ball-carrier with the impending shoe contract?”
Many pundits get paid many dollars to both predict and, once the particular option is exercised, dissect whatever choice was made. These experts are not averse to rolling their eyes and throwing their hands up in disbelief when a general manager chooses not to follow their patiently laid-out rationale.
They are also paid to gather “insider” information, to get a “scoop,” as it were, as to what decisions are being made behind closed doors. Giving day-to-day updates on whether a potential draftee’s “stock” is rising or falling is also part of their stock-in-trade. This has to do with a player being chosen either earlier or later than had been initially predicted.
A player might fall out of favor due to a slow time running the 40-yard dash or an unimpressive vertical leap or “character issues,” a category that has gained recent cachet. An obvious stigma of sorts is attached once an early favorite goes into free-fall. “Why?” it is asked. “What have they learned? Is he a serial monogamist? How normal is that?”
It’s not always as evident as, say, when Dick Cheney’s stock began to fall at BYU. It’s seldom a surprise when performance is a criteria and the prospect has shown that he can only run in a straight line.
Draft day consistently brings out the petty in the true sports fan. Under the heading of “what have you done for me lately,” I find myself hoping that circumstances surrounding a particular wide receiver who up-and-left my favorite college program early — for fame and fortune, no less — are found suspicious.
It’s not that I pray that his stock might fall — that would be “sophomoric.” Ahem! It’s just that once teams begin to pass on a “sure thing,” the whispering starts and, before you know it, high-level performers currently starring at your favorite college program just might begin to think twice before leaving early next year.
There are positive elements to the day, however — three players to whom only good thoughts and well wishes are being sent out. They are all senior class members, of course, and since I have no NFL team, remember, I could care less about whom they end up with — as long as they come away with a good chunk of change and a favorable playing situation.
First of all, I want to see wide-receiver Steve Smith from USC rewarded for all the great routes he ran and pressure catches he came up with while operating under the radar with the Trojans. And how about University of Utah’s consensus All-American, defensive-back Eric Weddle? This guy’s got game!
And even though his touchdown pass with no time left on the clock broke my heart and beat my Ute’s last fall, I wouldn’t mind seeing good things come to BYU’s clutch quarterback John Beck on draft day. According to scuttlebutt in front offices around the league, his stock is on the rise.
Other can’t-miss, testosterone-infused prospects with outstanding performances behind them this past season were Richard Powers, Derek Trucks, Jim Harrison, Bob Dylan, Cormac McCarthy, Merle Haggard, Gary Snyder, Ornette Coleman, Seamus Heaney, Joshua Bell, and Luis Alberto Urrea.
So get out the cooler and ice down the Negro Modelos and grab some tortilla chips and salsa to spill on your scorecard and maybe even your low-rider chair so you can practice for the summer concerts up at Deer Valley. Then tune in draft day and roll your eyes and throw up your hands in disbelief when some highly paid, clueless know-it-all totally ignores your insightful recommendation. Where do they find these guys?