AQB: Feeling a Draft
My friends, it’s nearly time for the National Football League Draft, an event that is overrated yet worth every minute.
To be clear, I love it and will be watching each choice with bated breath, from start to finish. Beginning when Chicago makes the first pick tonight before a TV audience of millions and concluding Saturday when the Jets announce selection #257 with only die-hards watching.
Perhaps it's not overrated per se, but rather its significance is exaggerated. After all, each team makes an average of seven or eight selections during the three-day event as they work to shape out an annual roster exceeding 70 players1. So, your draftees are 10% of your personnel, give or take, which means it is important but not quite as critical as the roster-shaping that occurs during the 362 non-draft days.
That said, this weekend is key for two major reasons:
1. It’s a chance to acquire young talent in one fell swoop.
2. It’s a chance to acquire cheap young talent in one fell swoop2.
Acquiring players (relatively) inexpensively is possible because of the NFL’s rookie wage scale, which was introduced in 2011. It also means teams don’t pay outrageous salaries to first-year players so, in turn, they can spend more on veterans.
That said, you didn’t come here to talk rookie salaries. You want to know who your team is going to pick and what that’ll mean to the ballclub.
Unfortunately, I’m going to be as much help in that area as I am in a jump-rope competition3. My best advice: go here and here if you’re looking for insight and predictions.
But, if you’re interested in borderline-humorous vignettes, I’m your guy. In fact, I’ll even tell you my own draft story.
No, I wasn’t picked by an NFL team, largely because the league has an unfair bias against collegians who spend most of their careers on crutches. It is what it is.
Yet, I did attend the draft a couple of times, most notably in 1991 when I traveled to the New York City event with my Lehigh teammate Calvin “FATBACK” Hobbs, a North Carolinian and a big Skins fan.
In addition to loving the team now known as the Commies, FATBACK and I were also kindred college food spirits, fond of stuffing ourselves to the hilt at every meal. Indeed, we bonded over pizza, pasta and crushed the taco-consumption record at an unnamed Emmaus, Pa., eatery.
Burritos were a favorite of ours and we often indulged in the supermarket frozen variety, using the microwave so often that our bodies could light up a Geiger Counter.
So, as we planned to head to NYC the day before the 1991 selection meeting, we went to our local grocer and bought two armloads of them.
Next, we microwaved the burritos - roughly 20, as I recall - and wrapped them snugly in aluminum foil. Then, we were off in my maroon Dodge Shadow.
Pulling onto Interstate 78 just outside Bethlehem, hunger struck like a lightning bolt. Quickly, I took my right hand off the wheel and reached for the cooler in the backseat to satisfy my appetite.
Suddenly, FATBACK exploded. “What in the world are you doing, fatboy?!? Those burritos have to last us all night and we are sleeping on the streets of New York City! Please show some discipline for a change.”4
Humbled and speechless, I continued to drive as we sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, just as we hit the New Jersey border, Hobbs looked at me and said, “Hey Cuz, how about one of those burritos?”5
Eventually we arrived in Manhattan, parked the Shadow in an overpriced garage and made our way to the Marriott Marquis, site of the Draft6. It was nearly 24 hours until the proceedings, so we milled about the Times Square area, ate a hot dog or two and had nice conversations with a bunch of folks, including ESPN broadcasters Beano Cook and Mike Gottfried.
The most interesting chat was with a local attorney who identified himself as Stanley. He had a nervous tic, smelled of bologna - no judgment here - and tried to coerce us into enjoying the nightlife with him. He planned to hang out with “several young models,” and a couple of “young bucks” like Hobbs and I could have a lot of fun, he said.
Tempting, but we decided to pass for a couple of reasons: about half of the burritos were still in the cooler and we didn’t want our parents to read this in The New York Post:
Corpulent College Linemen Found in Dumpster; Foul Play Suspected
(New York) — Two Lehigh University football players were found dead Saturday in a midtown dumpster; victims of what police believe was a botched exchange of microwaved Mexican food for NFL Draft information.
A police source said the victims smelled of picante sauce and uncommonly strong B.O. Their names hadn’t been released as of Sunday morning as family hadn’t been notified.
Leaving Stanley, we wandered aimlessly for hours before finally lining up outside the Marriott, about 10 hours before the start of the Draft. It didn’t take a super sleuth to determine that we were the only fans that had played any sort of sport, even the youth variety. Putting a finer point on it: there were dudes standing nearby that would make TOMMY BIRD look like a physical specimen.
It also quickly became obvious that the draft doesn’t bring out the sharpest tools in the shed. To wit: an animated forty-ish gentleman held a sign calling for his New England Patriots to draft QB Dan “Our Man” McGwire7 of San Diego State, the younger brother of baseball superstar Mark.
Thankfully for the Pats, they didn’t listen, instead selecting Southern Cal offensive tackle Pat Harlow, who would be named to the franchise’s all-1990s team8.
Spoiler alert: it turns out that camping on the streets of midtown Manhattan in late April isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds, even if you’ve got burritos. So, when morning came and we were allowed inside the Marquis, we rejoiced like Dufresne emerging from the sewage in Shawshank.
Of course, we were exhausted by that time and, even amidst the excitement, struggled to keep our eyes open. By the time the Skins picked Michigan State defensive lineman Bobby Wilson9 with the 17th overall pick, we were sound asleep in the audience.
A short while later, we were headed to the car and back on the way to Bethlehem. Sadly, there were no burritos to be had.
Each team dresses 53 players per game with a practice squad of up to 16 additional men. Then each squad, of course, has a number of players on its injured reserve list.
In a way, the draft is a bit like Taco Bell where you can order three chalupas, four burritos, a quesadilla and a Mountain Dew Code Red for about $9.75.
I wouldn’t mind skipping a little rope but, unfortunately, I’ve got a bad right Achilles and I couldn’t jump over a credit card if my life depended upon it.
It was a humbling moment for yours truly but, on the positive side, FATBACK’S tirade was the least messy burrito-related explosion he’s ever had.
Note that the burrito story is factually accurate but actually occurred later that year, on October 27, 1991, as Hobbs and I drove to the Meadowlands to watch the undefeated Skins beat the Giants, 17-13. As my pal TOMMY BIRD says, “When you’re combining two true stories, it’s not an embellishment.”
The Draft was a different animal back then. First, it started on a Sunday and continued into Monday, when absolutely no one watched. It was also 12 rounds, compared to today’s seven.
McGwire had the distinction of becoming the tallest QB in NFL history at 6’8” but his career didn’t match his stature. He lasted five seasons in the league with Seattle (1991-94) and Miami (1995), tossing two touchdown passes. That said, six years is nearly double the average pro football career to kudos to you, Mr. McGwire.
Of course, they could’ve picked Brett Favre as well as the QB was passed over by everyone in the first round before the Falcons snapped him up with the 33rd selection.
Wilson lasted four seasons in Washington before retiring. His best season was 1991 when he registered 4.5 sacks as part of the most dominant team in league history.
The Skins best selection was wide receiver Keenan McCardell, who was chosen in the 12th round (326th pick). He didn’t see the field in 1991 but still got a ring before moving to Cleveland the next season. McCardell played 16 years, including a final campaign in Washington (2007), and caught 883 passes. He also earned a second championship with Tampa during the 2002 season.