Sometimes there is nothing more calming than standing on a beach and watching a storm roll in along with the tide.
A few weeks ago my family took a vacation to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Fear not, social distancing was practiced during the entire trip. On more than a few nights, I would sit outside on the balcony of the place we were staying and watch thunderstorms on the horizon, build up strength and either come ashore or pass by, just off in the distance of the Atlantic.
Sadly the vacation came to an end, as all do, and it was time to return to work. That is, if you can call what I get to do for a living “work.” After all, I’m lucky and honored to cover the game of football professionally. As this return unfolds, I often find myself back on that balcony in my mind, gazing at the horizon, watching storm after storm build strength and threaten the shoreline.
The storm on my mind right now is the 2021 NFL Draft.
That might seem like a lifetime away given how time works in 2020, but the truth of the matter is that the next NFL Draft is approaching faster than you might think. In the past week two potential first-round players, wide receiver Rashod Bateman from Minnesota and Virginia Tech cornerback Caleb Farley, announced their intention to opt-out of the upcoming season and focus on that very draft. A third player, Penn State linebacker Micah Parsons, is reported to be announcing the same decision within days. Parsons is perhaps a top five selection, even as a linebacker.
They might not be the only players to reach such a decision as the college football season – however that looks – draws near.
The storm is not the decision to opt-out.
The storm is how that might be viewed.
The National Football League is not the most progressive organization, at least in terms of how it views those who step outside the lines and/or challenge the conventional wisdom and balance of power. Coaches want a roster of players who “do their jobs,” who “row the boat in the same direction,” who “pull their weight.” Insert your favorite bit of coach-speak as your see fit.
That means that come draft evaluation time, scouting departments want to know how well the players will fit into an organization. If they are “team players” or not. Can they be counted on to be one of the 53 when it matters most?
Recently, some high-profile draft prospects have begun skipping bowl games to avoid an injury, like the one suffered by current Dallas Cowboys linebacker Jaylon Smith when he was with Notre Dame. One such example is running back Christian McCaffrey, who sat out Stanford’s appearance at the Sun Bowl during his final season in college, a decision that he had to explain to general managers while in Indianapolis for the Scouting Combine. Fellow Stanford alum and Denver Broncos general manager John Elway had this to say about the move:
Obviously when I thought about it, kind of the old school in me wanted to come out and say, ‘Why? Why would those guys not play? It’s their last game,’ and this and that. But I tell you what, when you look at where the league is now and you talk about the value of these contracts for these players coming out and the risks that they’re taking, the old salty guy in me got flipped back to understanding. I understand why they didn’t play.
Another general manager, John Lynch of the San Francisco 49ers, framed the decision this way:
As a Stanford fan, I wasn’t a huge fan of that. … I think you understand their perspective, but I don’t necessarily think it’s a positive thing for college football. This is such a team sport — I know there are people that I’ve talked to here that that really bothers. I’m fortunate. With one of those players, I happen to know the young man (McCaffrey). So I would never question his commitment to team, but other people will.
Put it this way, they were willing to go on the record.
How are teams going to handle players who avoided a season because of – and you know this language is coming – a “virus that’s no worse than the flu?”
Parallel with the decision by some players to opt-out is another track. The players who will opt-in, but only if changes are made to the structure of the NCAA and by the individual schools in terms of protecting players.
In the past few days we have seen first players from the Pac-12, and now the Big Ten, release statement with demands for their conferences, schools and the NCAA at large for some perhaps overdue changes, both in light of the global pandemic as well as how athletes are treated on campus.
One of the first stories to emerge in the wake of the Pac-12 request from players? Speculation that Washington State head coach Nick Rolovich was taking some of that school’s players who signed on and/or supported that letter off campus. It turned out to be a misunderstanding, thankfully, but given how we have seen college coaches handle their athletes, the idea was at least plausible when first reported.
Draft prospects who step out of line in this way, in terms of questioning authority or toeing a “non-company line,” get hit with some red flags of their own. A few draft cycles ago Josh Rosen’s desire to play the game, given his interests “outside the game of football,” was questioned. The red flags popped up, and the anonymous scouts provided their quotes.
What happens when some of these players, pushing for change, then look to the draft?
Remember what was said of Rosen, when he committed the dual sins of golfing with a hat with a derogatory message about then-candidate Donald J. Trump as well as opining about the disconnect between the NCAA and the idea of the student-athlete:
What Rosen’s personality questions refer to are incidents like when he wore a derogatory reference to President Trump on a hat while playing at a Trump golf course or when he opined that the demands of college football were incompatible with a college course load. And Rosen’s not wrong on that point. Nor was the economics major off base when he took to Instagram to note the incongruity of his college signing a record $280 million shoe deal while still claiming amateurism.
Rosen’s UCLA coach, Jim Mora, told him that such a statement distracted from what should’ve been an important day for the university. The problem, to Rosen’s critics, is that he deviates from orthodoxy. In the hidebound world of football, such deviations are what gets labeled baggage. Mora tried to explain Rosen’s behavior by saying he needs to be challenged intellectually so he doesn’t get bored; he’s a millennial; he wants to know why; millennials, once they know why – they’re good. Seems insightful to me, but to the NFL establishment, it was as if Mora said, Josh is a fairly committed satanist, but his ritual slaughter of goats can occasionally lead touchdowns.
Millennials as suspect, millennial as privileged, non-team-players – now, here’s the thing. Of almost 2,000 players who appeared in an NFL game last year, all but 10 are millennials. If Josh Rosen weren’t a millennial, he would be worthless, a 37-year-old NFL rookie. Actually, a demographic case can be made that some of the younger NFL players, including those of Rosen’s age, aren’t millennials at all, but post-millennials, Generation Z. A lot of NFL fans and media members want their players, especially quarterbacks, to stand athwart societal trends and embody traditional virtues, which do not include Instagram or disrespectful hats on the golf course.
Then the anonymous scouts began to question his love of the game:
According to sources who have spoken with people close to Rosen, he has been focused since high school on using football to make money and support the type of lifestyle he wants. He’s OK with challenging the system and being a mouthpiece for divisiveness because he appreciates the attention it draws.
Rosen slid a bit in the draft, and now is looking to find a hold in the league after failing to keep a starting role in both Arizona and Miami. Of course, that has more to do with his play on the field than anything else, but if these stories were written about Rosen, you know what is coming in a few months: Reports about players who pushed for change, and how they too might not love the game as much, and could pose a problem in an NFL locker room.
Now it seems absurd, that these decisions to opt-out for medical reasons, or to push for changes in college athletics, would be viewed as potential red flags come draft season. But consider history. Should expressing a political opinion be considered a red flag? Looking out for one’s interests? What about “having poor body language” or being compared to Willie Beamen from ‘Any Given Sunday,’ both things that happened with Teddy Bridgewater during his draft class.
Or perhaps the best example: Marcus Mariota. Scouts could not find a red flag on him, which became a red flag of its own:
NFL evaluators are a meticulous bunch, and the homework compiled in the evaluation of draft prospects is extensive, if not excessive. So it’s not surprising that a clean review of a relatively complete prospect like Mariota would more likely arouse suspicion about what is being missed than any sort of affirmation.
If there is a need to go to the ends of the earth to uncover “red flags,” then the players either opting-out or signing on for change are going to face these issues during the draft process. From the scout’s point of view, a failure to at least address them when meeting with the prospect and/or compiling a scouting report is going to be viewed as a failure to “do the homework.”
The gathering storm.
Those anonymous scout red flags are coming.
Now of course, we can laugh them off and make the case that the talent on the field will win out. After all, the examples cited herein are of three quarterbacks – Bridgewater, Mariota and Rosen – who ended up picked in the first round.
But what about the fringe players? Those who do not have a first-round grade on them, who decide to opt-out for health concerns or sign onto a letter demanding change from institutions?
When a team is on the clock in the fifth round deciding between two hypothetical linebackers, and one of them made such a decision while the other has not, what happens then?
That is the storm that is gathering. How those players will be treated in the upcoming draft cycle. Not the stars.
Here’s hoping that these decisions, made in the midst of a year filled with uncertainty and change, will not be used as red flags against them in the draft.
