When the still seas conspire in armor . . .
And her sullen and aborted currents . . .
Breed tiny monsters, true sailing is dead!
Say what you will about Jim Morrison, the dude could write a song. Mute nostril agony indeed. Here we are stuck in the doldrums. The Sargasso Sea. The Horse Latitudes of the sporting landscape. Sure, basketball and hockey are grinding inexorably to the playoffs, but this is the time of resting key players and healthying up for the playoff grind. The dog days of both those sports are in full swing, and teams are actively playing it safe and trying to avoid injuries.
Baseball is nearly here, but watching spring training games is like eating tofu at a steakhouse. Not very fulfilling and you will leave severely disappointed. Football? Well, that might as well be a mission to Pluto, the misbegotten planetoid. It is so far off in the distance that we can barely see it.
Even the draft is a month away. And we can talk about it but once you get past the first 5 picks, no one gets anything right. Look at ANY prognosticator (and yeah, I’m sure they’ll dig up Mel Kiper’s head and put it on some unsuspecting brain-dead accident victim, and crank up the hyperbole machine.
Do you guys have any favorite draft moments? Mel Tobin calling out the helmet-headed one springs to mind.
Also this draft. I think you all know which one this is:
1 Ronnie Lott 8 DB USC
2 John Harty 36 NT Iowa
2 Eric Wright 40 DB Missouri
3 Carlton Williamson 65 DB Pittsburgh
5 Lynn Thomas 121 DB Pittsburgh
5 Arrington Jones 122 RB Winston-Salem St.
6 Pete Kugler 147 NT Penn St.
8 Garry White 203 RB Minnesota
11 Ronnie DeBose 286 TE UCLA
12 Major Ogilvie 313 RB Alabama
12 Joe Adams 322 QB Tennessee St
I mean, who can forget Joe Adams? 3/4 of your defensive backfield in one draft is quite the mean feat. That and getting Hacksaw Reynolds and Fred Dean paved the way for Bill Walsh’s offense, which was already doing pretty well under Steve DeBerg, became the well-oiled machine that was the envy of the league, and still is.