The NFL Draft. Ya gotta love it. No, I don't mean that literally. If it's not your thing, I'm totally cool with it. Why do you have to be so difficult? You know what? I can't talk to you when you're like this. Just let me finish and we'll talk later, okay? God!
Anyway, it's the time of year when friends get together, get over-served, talk football for an entire weekend and fall into a deep and immediate depression when it's over after the realization sets in that the season is four months away (or never). It's like that moment right after an orgasm when you discover you can't grab your pants and haul ass because you're at your place. I mean, what the hell are you going to talk about now, her last name? Boy, I miss college.
I got a text from a buddy of mine halfway through asking how I thought the Buccaneers were doing so far, as if just because I write a weekly sports column in between Star Wars marathons and porn blackouts, it means I'm Karnak the Magnificent. Take the biggest names in mock draft prognostication and none of them got a third of their picks right this year. Then after the dust settles? These are the same people who thought Emmitt Smith was no good, Ryan Leaf should have been picked ahead of Peyton Manning and mispronounced Brett Favre's last name. And me? Let's just say after the Bucs picked Kenyatta Walker in 2001, I was high-5'ing until my fingers looked like Ball Park Franks. For those of you who remember Walker, you know what I'm talking about. For those of you who said, "Who?", my point still stands. FUN FACT: Kenyatta was last seen on the practice squad for the Toronto Argonauts..well, I never said it was a fun fact for him.
The wishy-washy mealy-mouthed point? Who the hell knows? Drafts, as much as anything else in life yet to be, is nothing more than a crap shoot. And like my daddy always used to say, "They don't have multi-billion dollar hotels with brilliant flashing lights in Vegas because people win." The Draft is like a box of chocolates. Especially if some of those chocolates turn out to be turds.
This article appears in Apr 28 – May 4, 2011.