NFL Draft Day
4/17/02
How do you perceive the NFL draft? Is it a day to sit by your TV,
listening to Mel, Joe and Boomer prognosticate and babble? Or perhaps
it is a day to either celebrate or question your team's future. However
you view the draft, it is undeniable that many have us have watched
in wonder as 21-year-old superkids become instant millionaires each
year on a Saturday in mid-April. The parade of young men strolling
to the podium to shake hands with Commissioner Tagliabue is eerily
familiar to a commencement, except in place of a diploma, these young
stars of the future cordially accept team hats or jerseys with a newly
emblazoned "1" on the front. Sadly many of these "student-athletes"
will make a commencement walk only once, and only for a hat, but that
is a topic for another essay. This is the NFL draft... a televised
commencement orchestrated by Paul Tagliabue, the NFL and ESPN to bring
attention back to the best pro game in town, lest it be lost in the
morass of early season baseball and playoff drives in the other major
sports.
I am a football addict, and if you have not yet owned up to being
an addict, the NFL draft is one of the avenues (perhaps even a Boulevard)
that helps you recognize and admit addiction. In case you have not
yet admitted it, ask yourself the following about the draft:
- Have you ever watched the full Saturday coverage on ESPN?
- Have you ever compiled your own draft board?
- Have you ever screamed "Who?" at the TV on draft day?
- Have you ever agreed with Mel Kiper about anything?
- What is the worst part of the draft?
A true football addict will respond similarly to my suggestions below:
- Yes... in fact, when it was held at the Marriott in NYC, I got
a table.
- Yes, before I got married, I set up my living room as a "war
room"
- Screamed? No... that would be admitting that I didn't know somebody...
But I have whispered "who?" to myself.
- No.
- Other than Mel Kiper, when they change over from Tagliabue to
Gene Washington.
Those of us who have admitted football addiction look forward to the
NFL draft, and watch it faithfully each year. As each player saunters
up for his photo-op, and Mel Kiper banters on in the background explaining
why he was again wrong, many of us think, "Wow, that kid's life
is surely going to change." That's what I was thinking on
April 20th, 1996, as I watched Keyshawn Johnson take his stroll
to the podium after becoming the No. 1 pick of the New York Jets.
As I sat in my Philadelphia apartment on that early afternoon, I
pondered the great life that Keyshawn would likely live as the NFL's
next "sure thing". Fame, fortune and women... lots of
women. I then watched the top 12 teams make their picks, with big
names like Cedric Jones, Lawrence Philips, Tim Biakabatuka and Ricky
Dudley getting checked off the draft board early. Fame, fortune
and lots of women for these guys as well. Well -- even football
addicts are entitled to be wrong.
After 12 picks, my girlfriend arrived for the afternoon. It was
a warm spring day, and I had agreed with her that some time walking
around the city might be a good thing. I knew that attempting to
get her to stomach a full afternoon of the NFL draft was a losing
battle, so I didn't even negotiate. Ann's father had Giants' season
tickets, but she had confided in me early in our relationship that
she wasn't much of a football fan. Of course, being a football addict,
I had wondered if this would be a problem for us as our relationship
progressed.
However, on April 20, 1996 -- NFL Draft Day -- I learned that there
would be no problem. After about 2 hours checking out some of Philly's
best daytime outdoor activities, we noticed a brightly colored sign
in front of the Irish Pub, advertising an afternoon special to celebrate
introduction of Pete's Wicked Summer Brew. For those of you who
have been to the Irish Pub, you know that it is one of the best
drinking bars in America. I suggested that since we were walking
around so much, we might want to cool off by trying the newest innovation
from our friends at Pete's. Of course, my motive was not to get
an afternoon buzz; instead, I yearned to know what the Eagles had
done with their first-round pick, twenty-fifth overall. Had they
had excited me or again let me down? Was I going to cheer, or whisper
"who?" to myself?
As we entered the bar, I noticed on the corner TV that they were
only at pick no. 22. Ann, being quite perceptive and knowing me
fairly well, quickly realized my interest, and probably knew that
the invitation for a beer was merely a disguise to lure her into
the bar so that I could get an update. But, to my surprise on that
beautiful Saturday afternoon, Ann gave in to my football addiction
with smiles instead of resistance. She and I enjoyed about five
Summer Brews, I quietly groaned "Who?" as the Eagles selected
Jermaine Mayberry, and we watched the remainder of the first round.
Ann was more intrigued by the human interest side of the players
and their interviews... I was more interested in stats and game
film. But, a woman who is not a football fan, and can tolerate 2-hours
of late first round draft "action"?...I had never conceived
of such an invention. In retrospect, she had already won me over,
but this was certainly a fourth-quarter insurance field goal.
I have been the Commissioner of a fantasy football league for 15
years, and have been married to Ann for 5 of those seasons. She
still doesn't particularly enjoy football, but she allows me the
time to "fix" every weekend during the season to run my
league, and she joins me each year, at least for part of Saturday,
to watch the NFL draft. This year, when David Carr gets picked number
1, I will not envy his fame, fortune and the women who will become
available to him. Instead, I will hang out with Ann, our two kids
and a twelve-pack of Pete's Wicked Summer Brew, and we will celebrate
the 7th anniversary of my enlightenment that wives, even those who
don't enjoy football, can still tolerate Draft Day. This is how
I now perceive the NFL Draft -- not bad work, Mr. Tagliabue. |
