That's right, I'm eyeing the award for Best Blog Post Title of the Day. And for those of you who think I typo-d "night" - what the heck does "the draft is night (unwatchable)" mean?
And for those of you who think I typo-d "high" - what the heck does "the draft is high (unwatchable)" mean?
And for those of you who think I typo-d "typo-d" - well, it's not a word, so it can't be typoed. So there.
Ok, so I did have to look up what "nigh" means, just to make sure it means what I think it means. It does. In any case, I stand by my title. And I stand by my cleverness. You see, the draft is both nigh and nigh unwatchable (like most things, it's funnier after I explain it, right?). I say this with a good deal of certainty, for a couple of reasons:
1. Every year, I watch the first round of the draft. It's brutally boring. Which is why I keep going back.
2. I looked up the meaning of nigh. (I know, I already mentioned this. But space is long and ideas are in short supply, so I do what I can to keep myself entertained. As my most loyal reader, my own entertainment is, of course, paramount.)
In case you're wondering, I looked up "paramount" to make sure it means what I think it means. It does.
So here's a weird thing - right now, at this moment in time, as I type these words... This post is a draft! What the...? So basically, this is a The draft is nigh (unwatchable) draft. And more importantly, I managed to get a couple hundred words in, and the only thing I've discussed so far is the post itself. It's only reason for existence is it's own existence. It's a draft about the draft. I'm blowing my own mind here. Again, in my odd little world, my own entertainment is tantamount to success.
Guess what? Yep.
SOOOOO... This whole self-referential thing reminds me of a story. Many years ago, when I was a budding adult, I was in Albany to see some Dead shows. That's Albany, NY, not Albany, Oregon. Confused? Wondering why I try to live most of my life in easy driving distance to an Albany? Well that's not really the point (wait, there's a point?). There were three shows at the Knick, which is apparently now called the Times Union Center, cuz these days if you own a big building, you name it after a company, and everybody feels all warm and fuzzy. Like Met Life Stadium, where the Snoopys play. It turned out the first of those was the only show I ever got shut out of. So after some of our crew got tickets and went in, the rest of us went back to my buddy's apartment and threw ourselves a consolation party. We hung out. We drank. We laughed. We had fun. My brother read a book and giggled. One guy had too much fun. Or not enough fun. I guess it depends how you look at it. My brother giggled some more and said I should read the book with him. No thank you, brother, I'm at a consolation party.
Later that night, we all went to sleep. Cuz that's what people do when it gets late. But I couldn't sleep. I tossed. I turned. I rolled over. My brother giggled. "Nate, you gotta read this book with me." Boring! But finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Fine! Show me the book! He was reading a chapter about self-referential statements. You know, the kind of thing you might sit and read while you're at a party at a buddy's apartment in Albany. It said stuff like this: "This sentence has no"
We laughed. We read. We laughed more. Pretty soon, we were doing that thing where you're laughing uncontrollably but you're trying to be quiet, cuz everybody else is sleeping. It was funny. It hurt. I think about that night from time to time.
Ok, deep breath. Sharp right turn. This post is actually about the NFL Draft (au contraire, you say! I've been reading since the beginning, and this post is very clearly NOT about the NFL draft!).
The NFL Draft is nigh. The Giants have the second pick, which makes this the most exciting draft since 1981, when they look a young man named Lawrence Taylor - the greatest defensive player in the history of the league. So what's gonna happen this year? Will they take the heir-apparent to Eli Manning? Penn State superstar running back Saquon Barkley? Pass rusher Bradley Chubb? Trade down for more picks?
That's the beauty of the draft - nobody knows what's gonna happen. It's what makes it so exciting. And by exciting, I mean brutally boring and nigh unwatchable.
But while the draft itself is a snooze-fest, made tolerable only by the beer and the company of the mighty few who are willing to devote one Thursday evening in April to the desperate pursuit of anything at all related to football, the weeks leading up to the draft are filled with excitement and possibility. Anything could happen! <Insert team here> could draft the greatest player in the history of players. OR, they could take a bunch of guys who get stuck in an elevator and never even suit up for a game.
My cousin's poor, sad-sack Buffalo Bills are sure to do something stupid. The Patriots will somehow manage to come away with a handful of great rookies and a bunch of extra picks next year. And my Giants will hopefully do something that helps ensure they won't be picking at number two for the next 37 years.
Go team!