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The offseason’s fix for the NFL Junkee
By: John Katrus
The Setup
What did you do last Saturday? Go for a walk? Play some basketball? Sleep off the awesome time you had Friday night? Perhaps some of you tuned into the NFL Draft to see who would go number one overall or to see if your team grabbed that one player that gets your boys over the hump. Or maybe you’re like me and actually showed up to the damned thing. That’s right, I went to the NFL Draft this Saturday at the Javits Center on New York’s Westside and until then, I was unaware Manhattan even had an 11th Ave. Well, it does and there I was sitting in the draft room complete with my gift bag compliments of the NFL, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas morning. I know most sports fans probably tuned in to watch from time to time to check in and see if there team was coming up. I sat in my seat for ten hours anticipating each pick more than the last and as I stood up to leave I heard myself mutter “Where did all the time go?”
I guess you could say I’m a fan of the NFL draft.
Strike that, I’m obsessed with the NFL draft.
This is somewhat odd considering I am not nearly as into college football as the NFL which means I have only a few months to read every analysis, article, and draft prospectus before the draft arrives. I’ve read and scrutinized every mock draft that I could possibly find even though none of them are really relevant until about a week beforehand. I know prospects’ forty times, bench presses, verticals and production during their college careers. I could probably give horoscopes and favorite hobbies on some prospects without even batting an eye. This madness has to end here and now and thankfully it will.
The Scene
I made my way to my seat with about ten minutes before commissioner Tagliabue officially started the draft with the announcement that San Francisco was on the clock. In years past the number one pick would have been a no-brainer for the once proud 49’er franchise. They need to rebuild their team and that starts with a new signal caller, however, this year’s prospects aren’t exactly drawing comparisons to Elway or Marino. They should have saved their laughable 2-14 season for a year that actually brings them someone worth a number one pick, sadly this year wasn’t it. A few years ago they could have grabbed a David Carr, two years ago Carson Palmer, and just last year Eli Manning or even Phillip Rivers would have all been solid picks. In years past such records were “rewarded” with sympathy Lamborghinis. This year the 49’ers have been offered a bus pass.
Am I being too hard on Alex Smith and Aaron Rodgers? Probably, but it’s no coincidence that San Francisco was trying to dump the number one pick on anyone who’d take it. It’s kind of like Paris Hilton, it looks good but its’ overall value and worth are little, if any.
As I start perusing the folder full of top prospects by position, I pick up on a conversation between two guys sitting next to me. One of them a Raiders fan and the other a Vikings fan. Not surprisingly the Raiders fan was dominating the conversation, hoping Al Davis would just move up baby! The Vikes fan was doing his best bobble head impression with a constant nodding motion. The Oakland fan keeps on mentioning how badly he wants Luis Castillo and what a great value he thinks he’ll be in the draft. I ask him if the fact he tested positive for steroids provided any type of drawback for him. He quickly shrugged it off, I suppose after years of watching Bill Romanowski become bigger and bigger, and conversely dumber and dumber, had dulled this fan’s reaction to such actions.
Castillo appeared on most draft boards as a good value in the middle of the second round in a draft that was light on defensive tackle talent. The Northwestern tackle felt his surgically repaired elbow wasn’t healing fast enough naturally and decided to shoot up to speed things along. Castillo picked the worst time to have such an err in judgment since he made this decision at the NFL Scouting Combine where all pro prospects are poked, prodded, and examined in this giant meat market. Medical files are examined by physicians and Castillo’s dark little secret was thrown out into the light of day.
You’d think Castillo would have reconsidered steroids when he found himself in a bathroom stall, pants down, with Jose Canseco at his side.
Finally, the moment had arrived; Tagliabue uttered those famed words and the ten hour plus magic carpet ride was about to commence.
The Draft
The spectators’ seats were all full now as the scoreboard read 14:45, representing the amount of time the 49’ers had to make a pick they didn’t want. They ended up picking up Alex Smith from Utah, as expected. Picks one through six went as most had anticipated and the crowd’s reaction was as such. It wasn’t until Minnesota came up when everything was about to be anything but normal. The aforementioned Vikings fan was visibly nervous, perhaps having flashbacks to the 2003 draft where Minnesota simply couldn’t get a deal done with Baltimore and missed making a selection with the seventh overall pick.
Coincidentally, the Vikes again had the number seven pick thanks to a trade with the Raiders that sent Randy Moss to the left coast in exchange for the one bright spot on Oakland’s decrepit and discontented defense, Napoleon Harris, along with the Raiders overall number seven pick. For the record, I personally think the Raiders got burned in this deal especially after seeing who they selected later in the first round. The Vikes pick was in on time although it wasn’t the former USC standout, Mike Williams. It was Troy Williamson, the speedster from South Carolina. The Vikings insisted they weren’t trying to replace Moss but Williamson’s homerun hitting ability suggests otherwise. They want to be able to continue to utilize the rocket launcher that is Daunte Culpepper’s right arm and continue to get vertical with their offense, Williamson can do that. However, the reaction of the Vikings fan sitting next to me spoke volumes with a long exaggerated roll of the eyes.
Mike Williams fell right into the lap of Steve Maricucci’s Detroit Lions who scooped him up and added him an already impressive stable of wide receivers that included Roy Williams and the oft injured Charles Rogers.
Without question, the guy everyone ended up pulling for near the end of the first round was California quarterback, Aaron Rodgers. Yes, the same Aaron Rodgers that for the longest time was firmly entrenched as the number one quarterback in this year’s draft and was going to be a kid who gets the rare opportunity to try to resurrect his hometown team. Smith got some momentum in the weeks leading up to the draft and was able to blow by Rodgers on the 49’ers board and no other team was in dire need of a franchise quarterback and he slipped all the way to Green Bay with the twenty-fourth pick. Rodgers couldn’t have asked for a better mentor than the gritty Hall of Fame lock, Brett Favre.
Unlike Smith, Rodgers won’t be rushed and may be better for it in the long run.
Once Rodgers was picked, the California kid was welcomed to the stage with a standing ovation from the crowd. Even Giants and Jets fans were united, if only for a split second, in clapping for Rodgers who had the dubious distinction of being the last prospect in the green room on draft day.
As the picks and rounds continued to fly by the crowd continued to thin out. Jets and Giants fans would reappear and disappear as there selections came and went. Perhaps the most entertaining moment of the day was when the Jets first pick in the draft finally arrived in the second round. All the Jets fans gathered in one section and began chanting and drawing attention to themselves in typical New York fashion. However, two words were able to render every single one of them speechless for at least five seconds.
Mike Nugent.
After the five seconds were up, profanity laced tirades ensued aimed at the OSU place kicker and I saw at least two Jets jerseys come off and were tossed across the room in disgust. However, being from New York a few minutes passed and they were chanting Nugent’s name.
The NFL Draft was a great experience and a phenomenal opportunity to talk football with some extremely knowledgeable fans from all over the country. If you find yourself undecided what to do for eleven hours on a Saturday afternoon in late April, I highly suggest heading for New York and taking in the scene. I know, I know, eleven hours sounds like a huge investment of time but think of it this way, you’d have to go back 845 running minutes (14 hours) to get back to the last good movie Ben Affleck was a part of, Pearl Harbor.
Sounding better already, isn’t it?
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