Just like the rest of you, well, except, Maddog, Ghost, and a few others, we don't know s**t about the draft. All that we are is a bunch of ham-n-eggers that like to sit back on the weekend of the draft...
Tito: Fro, the draft starts tonight.
Fro: How is that humanly possible?
Tito: Its called ratings, Fro.
Fro: What time is it on?
Tito: 6:30 CT (4:30PT/7:30ET)
Fro: No s**t?
Tito: No s**t.
Webbie God: Fro, how did you not know the draft was today?
Fro: I dunno. I just sort of forgot.
Webbie God: You forgot?
Fro: Well, okay, I forgot the format had changed. And, I thought, that it started this weekend.
Webbie God: Did you see the changes on the main page?
Webbie God: Did you see the part that highlighted that the draft starts tonight?
Webbie God: sighs
Fro: May I continue?
Webbie God: Shrugs
Any way, as I was saying, we are all just a bunch of regular guys who don't have the foggiest idea of what is going to happen. Yet, we obsess over the draft. It becomes personal for some of us. I remember coalitions forming during the Rodgers (I called him Buck Rodgers)/ Smith debates of yesteryear. The arguments were fierce, but I can offer a summary:
Pro-Rodgers: He was born, raised, and played in California.
Anti-Rodgers: He's a Tedford quarterback.
Pro-Smith: He's young, smart, and accurate. Did I mention that he was young?
Anti-Smith: He comes from a gimmick offense from some yay-who named Urban Meyer.
But you see, regardless how wrong those of us were that supported Smith (My name is Fropwns, and I am the dumbass that wanted to pick Alex Smith), it became a personal mission, an agenda if you will, that our guy was the right pick. We used logic, or at least, we used a shaded, opinionated, blatantly biased, logic to justify our positions.
That is why we love the draft so damn much. It is epic theater, because we are invested in the players. We study films of them, check draft boards, draft sites, draft rankings, Mel Kiper, Todd McShay, Maddog (For example here is MadDog's big board), and anybody or anything else that could possibly provide us with a mock draft that even remotely offers the possibility that our guy will be selected.
And in that moment, even if does not come to fruition, we are validated. In fact, I am not even sure if it is the best interest of the 49ers that we have in mind, but the most gratifying selection for our egos. Even those who make these boards want to be right. It is not a slam, nor a slight, it is human. You will, and you can try, to debate this, but as Darth Vader once told his only son...
Search your feelings, you know it be true.
Am I above this? No. I am as afflicted with the draft as the next Webzone disciple. In fact, I am going to predict how it will unfold. No, I don't mean who is going anywhere, I have no f**king clue what will happen in that regards. No, I mean, I am going to tell you how the first act of this play will transpire:
First, the opening will be serene; but, slowly, a rising raucous applause will overtake Chris Berman (who, like other sports broadcasters never seems to age; it must be the nutrisystem), and all the other members of ESPN's wall-to-wall coverage of the draft.
By the way, did you know that at no point, during the first round of draft coverage, does Mel Kiper nor his hair for that matter--yes, I am convinced that Mel Kiper's hair is a separate living being. In fact, in the future, I want to read Mel Kiper's hair's picks--take a leak. The man, and his hair, have an iron bladder.
As picks come in, some excruciatingly slow..., some, surprisingly quick, Steve Young--who my wife consistently says looks just like a monkey
Is Steve Young a primate? You decide!
--will argue with Mel Kiper over the importance of building a solid offense over any best available pick; unless, of course, that pick happens to be an offensive player.
Also, at some point, during ESPN's coverage, you will see reporters from other networks jockeying for interview time; specifically, Deion Sanders from the NFL network.
At about pick 758, really pick 7, you will need to go to the bathroom because you do not want to miss pick 8. Nobody in the western hemisphere will miss pick 8. At number 8, the Raiders will select somebody. We don't know who; you don't know who, I don't know who, and worst of all for Raiders fans, Al Davis, doesn't know who; but, by pick 9, you will know, and more importantly, you will ridicule the pick.
Now, it is quite possible that Al Davis could trade down, which would be a stunner. Almost as stunning as when Hulk Hogan turned heel in the late 90s. I don't foresee this as a real possibility, but this is Al Davis, and, well, he is f**king crazy.
Don't underestimate the insanity of Al Davis, Brother!
For those of us who think a quarterback is an important need on our team picks 9-12 will be excruciating. In fact, the 49ers draft, will be decided right here. If a certain California kid that went to a mid-western school is the pick, then the Niners might get ballsy (a refreshing idea, but maybe not the correct one) and trade up, or they might show testicular fortitude in another way by standing pat.
At pick 13, the moon, the stars, the planets, the angels in heaven, the eternal cosmos, and perhaps the Gods themselves will stand perfectly still. But, I assure you, someone will fart; and then, after the sweet smell of air biscuit has left the air, the 49ers will make their selection. After the decision is made the Webzone, not because of the Webmaster, or its fine staff of moderators, will become in-operable. In the mad dash to alert the Webzone nation of the selection, countless posters, veterans, noobs, and everybody in-between, will jot off a dashing post or a simple, "What the f**k?" And as the servers become overloaded with responses, the Zone will shutter, become sluggish, and fall flat on its face. But not for long, for in another hour, the Niners will pick again; and, after all, this isn't the Zone's first rodeo.
We will pay attention to pick 14 because it is a division rival; we won't give two s**ts, unless we are trading up or someone we wanted is taken, over the next two picks. At pick 17, the entirety of existence will once again collectively hold its breath--at least that is what we think. We will select, the zone will go post-apocalyptic, I will then have to grab a couple of guns, a backpack, a copy of the Bhagavad Gita, and set out westward for Alcatraz. Along the journey, I will study the Gita, as many before me have, I will listen to Krishna lecture Arjuna on his responsibilities as a warrior. And once I reach Alcatraz, I will speak to Niner nation about the power of action, and how the choice between action and non-action is one that each of us must make.
Tonight, this very question of acting and not-acting will be decided in the first act of a play; tonight, my friends, is a night for the theater, a moment to forget about the problems of the world, where, we frankly fail to act too often.
And finally, tonight, there will be emotions, disgust, disappointment, joy, success, and lustful satisfaction for those who got it right, and bitter anguish for those who did not.
Tonight is for the theater.
I am Fropwns.
[ Edited by fropwns on Apr 22, 2010 at 9:33 AM ]