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Long Day's Journey Into Naught
Rick Reilly
May 07, 2007
SOME THINGS I don't get. Tip jars at the cash register of self-service cafes. Airport security guards who point you to a one-hour line and say, "Enjoy." People who sit for 10 hours watching the NFL draft when they can read about the whole shebang in five minutes on the Internet as soon as it's over.
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May 07, 2007

Long Day's Journey Into Naught

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SOME THINGS I don't get. Tip jars at the cash register of self-service cafes. Airport security guards who point you to a one-hour line and say, "Enjoy." People who sit for 10 hours watching the NFL draft when they can read about the whole shebang in five minutes on the Internet as soon as it's over.

"So," my editor sniffed, "why don't you watch it and see what the fuss is all about? Really break it down, like the bloggers do."

Me and my big mouth.

10:08 a.m. MDT
It's just me, my couch springs and my companion for the day, ESPN host Chris Berman, who opens with, "For three quarters of a century Radio City Music Hall has been the home of so much top-line entertainment, and in the National Football League, it doesn't get any more top line than this." Right. What is two on the 50 at the Super Bowl when you can see No. 1 pick JaMarcus Russell hold up a jersey in a $3,000 suit and $20 baseball hat?

10:22
The Hall is jammed with yahoos in jerseys and face paint. But for the love of humanity, why? There's no ball, no game, no score. Basically, they will sit there for hours while virtually nothing happens. Isn't that what soccer's for?

10:30
Even worse, there are thousands of fans at Ford Field in Detroit waiting to see who the Lions draft. "Get a life," I grumble. And then it hits me: I'm sitting on my butt in Denver watching people in Detroit sit on their butts watching people in New York sit on their butts. We are at gluteus maximus.

11:34
We're at the eighth pick, and Notre Dame's star quarterback, Brady Quinn, who many thought would go in the top three, is still untaken. He's the only player left in the green room, with nothing else around but empty tables and half-eaten sandwiches. It looks like Bobby Brady's birthday party. The cameras catch his every cringe. Poor s.o.b.

11:39
Surely the ninth-picking Miami Dolphins, who at this point will have to start their accountant at QB, will jump on Quinn, right? Wrong. They take tiny, fragile Ted Ginn Jr. (WR, Ohio State), whom they need like the homeless need lava lamps. What's their drafting method, a Magic 8 Ball?

1:02 p.m.
Note to self: The NFL draft is more boring than Amish porn.

1:07
I would rather stick forks in my ears than hear ESPN draft czar Mel Kiper's voice again. Only the Quinn saga keeps me going. He still hasn't been taken, and now he's gone from the green room. Maybe he's seeing if it's possible to get a Ferrari deposit back.

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