America has a number of strange idiosyncrasies. We inaugurate our newly elected President in January, a tradition which caused poor William Henry Harrison to catch pneumonia and die, having thoroughly enjoyed his one-month stint as our ninth President. We stand resolutely behind our imperial measuring system, while the rest of the world struggles to come to terms with how we decided there should be 5,280 feet (but not the shoe kind) in a mile. We insist on calling a slice of bread dipped in egg and fried French toast, with the notable exception of ‘dem good old boys in the South, who only eat Freedom toast which, coincidentally, also makes no sense.
However, stranger than our archaic system of measurements and abundance of culinary misnomers, is the absolute reverence given to a simple weekend towards the end of April. During the course of seven rounds spread over three days, a select number of highly qualified finger-painting majors from prestigious universities across the middle of the country wait anxiously to see where they’ll land in the newest edition of the NFL draft.
For the purveyors of the innumerable mock drafts the Internet has to offer, April 22 is Christmas, New Years and the 4th of July all rolled together. Only instead of presents and barbeques, there are discussions of Wonderlic tests and an abundance of 350-pound men.
To the casual observer, the draft is nothing but an overblown crapshoot (my apologies for that making a terrible image), with can’t-miss prospects like Ryan Leaf, who went second overall in ’98, and is currently raiding his mother’s medicine cabinet then selling the contents to high school students and chunky final-round castoffs like Tom Brady.
But to more ardent draft-enthusiasts, the draft is a subtle science of wants and needs, with teams scheming to take the players they covet before rivals can do the same. The New York Jets have made a bona fide strategy out of that concept, as for the past decade or so they have drafted not whom they actually wanted, but rather whom they thought the New England Patriots wanted.
By the way, thanks for taking Vernon Gholston off our hands, Mr. Tannenbaum.
According to most reports, the 2010 edition of the draft is going to be a deep one. The quarterback class is headlined by Sam Bradford, likely to be drafted first overall by the St. Louis Rams, who impressed scouts by completing 62 of 63 passes at Oklahoma’s Pro Day, with the only incompletion being a dropped pass. Barring a catastrophic failure during contract negotiations, Bradford is poised to be making many millions of dollars more than any other college junior in the country.
Two more star quarterbacks round out the remainder of the top of that class. First is Notre Dame’s Jimmy Clausen, whose draft status could go the way of Brady Quinn now that the Redskins managed to become a threat to the Eagles by obtaining, via trade, the Eagles Hall of Fame quarterback Donovan McNabb. Next on the list is Colt McCoy, who, in stereotypical Texas football player fashion, proposed to his girlfriend at midfield of a dimly lit stadium. Not making that one up.
Also technically included in the quarterback section of this year’s draft is Tim Tebow, who has managed to become something of an enigma as scouts continue to analyze his various faults. Personally, I think his final landing spot will be with the Raiders. Not because he’ll fit their system well (do they even have a system?), but rather because it would be absolutely gripping television seeing Tebow, who has been anointed as the Patron Saint of making everyone else in the world look like hedonistic deviants having his morals ripped into tiny unrecognizable shreds in the town where football careers go to die.
Admittedly, I’m not Tebow’s biggest fan.
Another thing to keep an eye on as the draft approaches is the Detroit Lions and whether they stick to the guns of the now departed Matt Millen and try to build a successful football team from the outside in. No team in recent memory has made more inadvisable picks than the Lions (the Raiders don’t count; they’re being run by the animated corpse of Al Davis), and it would be par for the course if they chose a receiver they didn’t need (Dez Bryant) over a big fat guy for either their wanting offensive or defensive lines. If the remaining Lions fan is reading this, renounce your faith if Goodell doesn’t say the name “Suh” or “Okung” on the 22.
The combined tonnage of the first round is going to be interesting to note, as there is a plethora of offensive linemen and interior defensive linemen who are poised to go during the draft’s first day. Tennessee safety Eric Berry might have to watch himself as he waits for his name to be called, or else a couple of offensive tackles who didn’t anticipate the process taking so long might be looking for something to take the edge off their hunger.
Also, assuming he manages to wade his way through all the bigger guys, watch out for Ole Miss’s Dexter McCluster. An undersized receiver who converted to running back part way through the 2009 campaign, he went on to tear through strong SEC opponents to the tune of over 800 yards in his first four games. Questions about his size and experience at the position will push him out of the first round in favor of C.J. Spiller, but look for a team to pick him up in the second round at a highly discounted rate.
Teams bank their future on the success or failure of their picks on Draft Day, with impact rookies sometimes giving a team the added component they needed to make a push in the playoffs. Regardless of how these seven rounds play out, we can be sure of two things; the first being that the 2010 NFL season will be a fresh slate for 31 teams, and the second being that the Raiders simply have no hope.
Your hatred of a fine young man-Tim Tebow- is pathetic. One should at least be happy to have an good example for our youth have a chance to become a great player. I guess you think that the NFL needs more dog fighting thugs.
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