Last April, after I clicked off two bloated days of the NFL draft, my wife looked up from her book and said, "Who won?"
There are many, many reasons to be a draft dodger, but the best one is in that question: At the end of it, nobody wins.
It's like reading a novel with the last chapter torn out, watching a movie with no third act, falling in love after the first kiss but before you've tried her spaghetti.
It's like "The Sopranos." Entertaining, but the ending sucked. Me, I like endings, winners, losers, results. So let's get some results, shall we?
Let's look at the drafts from 1997 to 2007. (2007, you'll recall, was 20 years after Brett Favre first started considering retirement.) Here's how many Pro Bowl years those draft picks have had since:
Indianapolis Colts 37
Pittsburgh Steelers 35
Dallas Cowboys 34
Seattle Seahawks 31
Philadelphia Eagles 27
Chicago Bears 26
Minnesota Vikings 26
Baltimore Ravens 25
New England Patriots 24
Washington Redskins 23
Green Bay Packers 23
San Diego Chargers 22
Arizona Cardinals 22
Carolina Panthers 20
New York Jets 19
Denver Broncos 19
St. Louis Rams 19
Atlanta Falcons 19
Kansas City Chiefs 18
Cincinnati Bengals 18
San Francisco 49ers 18
New York Giants 18
Oakland Raiders 16
Miami Dolphins 15
Tennessee Titans 14
New Orleans Saints 13
Tampa Bay Buccaneers 12
Buffalo Bills 10
Houston Texans 10
Jacksonville Jaguars 9
Cleveland Browns 7
Detroit Lions 4
What slaps you across the face is that the Indianapolis Colts used the draft to climb out of their spider hole of the 1980s and 1990s to become a gorilla in the AFC, and not just with Peyton Manning (10 Pro Bowls). DE Dwight Freeney (5), RB Edgerrin James (4) and WR Reggie Wayne (4) were genius picks, too.
What slaps you harder is that the Cleveland Browns could've done the same thing, but they screwed the Chihuahua. Their run of No. 1 picks from 1999 to 2002 is the single worst stretch of drafting since the Iraqi Republican Guard. Were they using an Ouija board?
1999 -- Tim Couch, QB: first pick of the draft, 0 Pro Bowls, out of the league after five seasons. But hey, he married a Playboy Playmate. Bust marries bust.
2000 -- Courtney Brown, DE: first pick of the draft, 0 Pro Bowls, didn't marry Playmate.
2001 -- Gerard Warren, DL: third pick of the draft, 0 Pro Bowls. And they passed up LaDainian Tomlinson!
2002 -- William Green, RB: 16th pick of the draft, 0 Pro Bowls. Now your server at Applebee's.
The Oakland Raiders are not last on this list, but I don't see how. Between 1997 and 2007, Al Davis had 14 very high picks and got only three first team All-Pro seasons out of them. He could've done better using a blindfolded chicken. Or even Matt Millen.
What really bugs me is how smug all these people will be about every pick. They're always grinning and puffing out their chests and spouting stuff like, "Look, we knew we had to move up and steal a 10-year starter in this league. This ain't our first rodeo."
I like to clip and save these quotes for years later, when the final score is finally in.
The whole NFL draft is this wonderful 77-float parade that goes past the first judge's stand and right off a cliff. We never hear the other shoe drop.
Here's a sample:
• "I think the consensus of opinion is that two guys like [Manning and Ryan Leaf] don't come along very often. If we're going to be successful in getting that type of quarterback, we're going to have to give up something, and we really did." -- San Diego Chargers general manager Bobby Beathard in 1998 after taking Leaf with the second overall choice. He was right about giving something up. He gave up his job two years later, in 2000, the same year Leaf was let go.
• "We just didn't think it was worth it." -- New York Giants GM Ernie Accorsi, in 2000, on not trading up to get RB Jamal Lewis (who is one of only six backs to rush for more than 2,000 yards in a season) and instead picking RB Ron Dayne, who was riding pine within months.
• "This may be one of the best picks we've ever made." -- Giants coach Jim Fassel, on Dayne, same day.
• "I think we made a great pick. To be a championship team, you need playmakers on both sides of the ball and we can do that with Courtney." -- Couch, on draft day 2000, talking about Courtney Brown. Takes a playmaker to know one.
The whole NFL draft is this wonderful 77-float parade that goes past the first judge's stand and right off a cliff. We never hear the other shoe drop.
If the draft really is worth all the hype and hair and, this year, red carpets (oy!), we should at least have a little follow-through. Here's my simple proposal: On the sleeve of every jersey, instead of the player's number, put the player's draft order number. For instance, Tom Brady would wear 199. Roger Staubach would've worn 129. Joe Montana: 82.
And then you could look over at the bench and see all the 1s and 7s and 13s, doing nothing except hogging the heater space.
The NFL draft comes off as though the story ends after the last pick, as though the movie ends the moment Dorothy's house lands on the witch; put on your coat, the movie is over, THE END.
What it really is, of course, is THE START.
Unless you're Cleveland.
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