We've been patient with you.
We weren't worried when we heard you might be a "diva." (Ask Vernon Davis how long divas last on Coach Singletary's watch.) We let it slide when we heard you were sort of aloof at the OTAs. (They're just OTAs, after all.) We even stayed cool when we heard you were holding out. (So was half the first round.)
But enough's enough. As Edward DeBartolo Sr. once said, "You can only kiss a guy's ass so far." And Michael Crabtree, we're done kissing yours.
Now that we've heard from this David Wells, you've officially crossed the line. I'm not sure why you've chosen this notoriously shady guy as your "adviser." All I know is, he's trying to squeeze every dime out of you, er, out of the 49ers I mean. (Does he have an actual job, by the way? And how much of your signing bonus is he gonna get? Never mind.)
Whatever you're paying for his "advice," Michael, it's way too much. Let's replay what he told ESPN and break it down. Remember, Michael, this is your "adviser," so we can only assume he speaks for you:
"We are prepared to do it [sit out the season and enter next year's draft, that is]. Michael just wants fair market value. They took him with the 10th pick and you have [#7 pick and fellow receiver] Darrius Heyward-Bey getting $38 million? This week is crucial. Michael was one of the best players in the draft and he just wants to be paid like one of the best players. This week is very crucial."
I can see why your agent promptly denounced this gibberish, but he can't unring the bell. Whoever this Wells is, he's not very bright. And the fact he's your "adviser" reflects terribly on you.
Let me show you what I mean. C'mon, this'll be fun.
GIBBERISH, PART ONE: "We are prepared to do it."
It took approximately 12 seconds for the blogosphere to explain why this would be the stupidest thing you could do. First, you'd turn down more than 15 million guaranteed dollars. Second, we'd control your rights until next year's draft, so you'd spend that year sitting around collecting dust. Third, and most excitingly, you'd likely get drafted just in time to face the NFL's first rookie salary-cap!
So let me get this straight. You'll give up a king's ransom, you'll sit on your ass for the next year, you'll get drafted again (and not nearly as high as #10, after the aforementioned ass-sitting), and you'll accept whatever lower salary the new system says you're required to get?
You're "prepared to do it," are you? Well then, you just go ahead and do it. That'll show us. That'll teach us a thing or two.
GIBBERISH, PART TWO: "Michael just wants fair market value. They took him with the 10th pick and you have Darrius Heyward-Bey getting $38 million?"
Okay, first things first. Darrius Heyward-Bey isn't getting $38 million. Yeah, his contract says $38 million ($38.25, actually). But in the wacky world of NFL contracts, that figure means squat; it might as well be "$38 gazillion." All that matters is what's guaranteed, and Heyward-Bey is guaranteed "only" $23.5 million. That's still a lot of change, but it's well short of $38 million. In other words, the market for NFL rookies might be absurdly high, but it's not nearly as high as it looks. You might want to let your "adviser" know.
But let's move on and talk about "fair market value." I get the feeling that Wells doesn't know what this means. There is a market for NFL rookies, and that market is called the draft. And that market does set the fair value of each player, and it does so as follows: the first player chosen has the highest value, the second player chosen has the second-highest value (stop me when you've got the pattern, Michael), the seventh player chosen has the seventh-highest value, and yes, the tenth player chosen has the tenth-highest value. Get it? The "fair market value" of the tenth player chosen is slightly less than that of the ninth, and slightly more than that of the eleventh. Or, if the ninth and eleventh picks haven't signed, as is presently the case, the tenth player chosen has a "fair market value" slightly more than that of the tenth player chosen last year. Last year's tenth pick got a guarantee of $13.8 million. If we assume the market's gone up 20 percent over last year (which is the raise that Heyward-Bey got), that takes your "fair market value" to $16.6 million.
That's it, Michael. That's your "fair market value." If that's all you want, come and get it. Unless, of course, you really want something else....
GIBBERISH, PART THREE: "Michael was one of the best players in the draft and he just wants to be paid like one of the best players."
Ah, there it is. You're not really interested in your "fair market value" at all, are you? What you want is actually the opposite, what lawyers might call your "intrinsic value": your real value, no matter what the market would pay. And who better to determine your real value than you? (After close consultation with your "adviser," of course.)
Your problem is that your premise—that you were "one of the best players in the draft"—is nothing but a wild, baseless guess. Heaven knows, I hope it's true. But if it's true, it'll be years before we know it.
Sure, you were the consensus best receiver in the draft, and some scouts said you were the best player period. Even our general manager said you were the best receiver, "hands down." But all of this is guessing, and utterly meaningless.
Trust us, we've been there. A while back, we picked another receiver with the tenth pick, and man, we just could've sworn he was the best in the draft. We called him "the total package." But all we knew was how he looked in college. When he got to the NFL, we were shocked to learn that he just couldn't run. And a can't-miss prospect turned into a slow, doddering bust.
Get this straight, Michael. You haven't proven a damn thing. You might be one of the best players in the draft, and you might be one of the absolute worst.
This is why what determines a rookie's value isn't how "good" he is; no one knows that. What determines his value, instead, is the draft. You take what your slot says you're worth, you play out your first contract, and then we'll know how good you are. If you're as good as you think, then trust me, you'll be paid like it. But that's then, not now.
GIBBERISH, PART FOUR: "This week is crucial. ... This week is very crucial."
Actually this one's true, but not for the reason your "adviser" thinks. It's not a crucial week for us. It's a crucial week for you.
I'm sure you're keeping track of what's going on in camp. It's all coming together. Singletary's spell shows no sign of waning. The players' belief in each other is growing. And maybe most significantly for you, the receivers are shining.
Understand this, Michael. We will not be held hostage by you, your greedy agent, or your half-baked "adviser." We think you'd be a major piece of our puzzle, but we're gonna build it, with or without you.
During our first minicamp, we were told you were so desperate to play, so frustrated by your injury, that you cried. You took a lot of flak for it, but we were impressed by that show of desire. Now is the time to prove it. Now is the time, to prove what you really want.
If you wanna play, we'll be happy to have you. If you don't, then just get out.
And please, take David Wells with you.
