Give (Jeremiyah) Love a chance
Happy Draft Eve! Let's dream up the best-case scenario for Thursday night...
Starting Thursday night, the NFL will hold its annual humiliation of the NBA.
Keep your remote handy. The juxtaposition is high comedy.
At some point during Day 3 of the NFL Draft, cameras will pan toward a 58-year-old fan in face paint cheering on a cornerback from Stephen F. Austin they’ve never heard of in their lives. Maybe that player cracks the 53-man roster, maybe not. Either way, ratings will soar. An event that’s 90 percent theater, 10 percent substance by Saturday afternoon rules sports.
Meanwhile, in the association, playoff games have commenced. Stakes that should demand our undivided attention. Games may be close, but ratings will continue sputter. The next wave of stars will fail to register nationally. Worst of all, the owners (whoops, I mean governors) will fail to acknowledge the quality of their product itself has devolved. Most consumers do not enjoy seeing teams jack up 50 three-pointers a game.
Granted, I miss the good ‘ol days of Jets and Eagles fans mercilessly booing inside Radio City Music Hall, but there’s no denying that the draft has become a national sports holiday.
A holiday filled with hope.
Looking to objectively root for something this spring? Here you go.