With the fiendishly over-hyped countdown to the NFL draft hitting four days, here is my notice that I’ve met the professional sports columnist requirement of reading way more than my share of mock drafts.
Also, I have no idea what these people are talking about.
Owing to nearly six decades of eyewitness NFL experience, however, I can sometimes decipher what such labels as “deceptive speed” mean (he’s slow, or he’s faster than he looks, which is slow), but the mock drafters always seem to add another layer of rhetorical nonsense every year.
One running back I read about — the Steelers are considering one with their first pick — was said to have “dynamism.”
Really.
Would that be defined as one of various philosophical systems that seek to explain the phenomena of nature by the action of force, or is it the theory that phenomena of matter or mind are due to the action of forces rather than to motion or matter?
It’s probably more useful to revert to “he’s a force,” on that one.
Whatever the final number of mocks I read, it was not enough to crystallize the difference between a “freak” and a “beast.” Freaks were far more common, and they are generally found at positions near the perimeter of the formations, while beasts were more likely to be interior players who may or may not possess dynamism. In some cases, freaks were given a modifier, like “he’s an athletic freak,” which didn’t help matters as I never really suspected he was actually in the employ of a traveling freak show.
One nagging issue for football writers in general and for mock draft architects in particular is the difficulty in explaining “length,” which used to mean height, but is now actually closer to width. “He has great length,” now generally means he has long arms, which translates to a significant wing span that can be useful at a variety of positions, such as wideout, where one potential draftee got described as having an “elite catch radius created by great length.” Someone who is 6-foot-8 may possess only “average length,” while someone who is 6-2 may have “decent length.” So it’s no wonder one running back got criticized for “running tall,” because you want your running backs running long, which increasingly means tall, but not here.
See? We’re getting nowhere with this.
If you’re an offensive coordinator, the best way to understand it might be from the words of the great standup Steven Wright, who often said, “I’m not afraid of heights; I’m afraid of widths.”
For me, a running back who is running tall isn’t as much a concern as one who “lacks patience,” a sure indicator that he’ll try to get in the express lane with 13 items, and I hate that. What you need in a running back is someone with “elite patience,” a kid who’ll tell you in the interview that he once waited for more than an hour in a Chick-fil-A for those fries Brian was supposed to bring to go with his chicken strips, the fries that were supposed to be “right up,” and he didn’t even complain when they never came. That’s elite patience, but it’s not necessarily for use on fourth-and-1.
I read somewhere that Clemson quarterback Trevor Lawrence, expected to be the first name called Thursday night, can “manipulate defenders with his eyes.” That’s something Lawrence can fall back on even if he’s a bust in the NFL. Someone who can manipulate people with their eyes can, if nothing else, probably write a hellacious gothic novel that’ll keep you up at night.
Quarterback evaluation has probably advanced more into abject silliness than analysis at any other position.
“Not afraid to sit in the pocket,” went one observation.
Pro tip: Don’t sit in the pocket. Don’t sit anywhere on the field. Sitting is for the bench only.
“Can take a snap under center,” was another.
Me too. Pretty sure.
“Shows ability to read,” was there too.
Well good. He’s in college after all.
In many mocks I read, wide receivers appeared to draw the freshest criticisms, including in one instance, “needs his mentals worked on.” The writer did not go so far as to prescribe psychotropic drugs, but it was clear this particular wideout had a preponderance, if not “the total package,” of potentially negative proclivities. These can include “takes plays off,” and “doesn’t play with the most urgency in the world,” and, worse still, presumably, “average butt.”
Finally, mock drafters failed again to illuminate the difference between “game-changer” and “difference-maker.” As a result, at least on offense, teams were increasingly said to be looking for a “home-run hitter.”
Note to mockers: Please, please, keep baseball out of football. Baseball’s got enough problems.
