You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
The NFL Combine.
Big men jumping. Massive men running, Future millionaires throwing and bench pressing.
It’s muscles on top of hamstrings on top of biceps.
It’s the NFL future on display.
It’s like high-priced meat in a butcher shop.
This is the NFL equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret fashion show only there’s more bikini waxing and less silicone.
The NFL Combine?
A few years ago, the idea of it was unimaginable.
Now in a home shopping network, 24/7, instant gratification, one click society?
It’s S.O.P.
Is it absurd that I’m watching?
Is it absurd they are broadcasting this?
Yes and Yes.
I’m watching 6’7″ 250 pound linemen running the 40 yard dash.
These human mastodons explode off the starting line like agitated rhinos charging their prey.
They pump massive arms, churn massive legs, exploding forward down the track.
It’s like watching a college educated herd of water buffalo run in slow motion to a watering hole filled with money.
All along the track, men with stop watches keep time. There are Optical cameras set up every ten yards with infrared technology documenting every twitch of energy.
4.53. 4.61. 4.68
That’s their forty time and the number of millions of dollars they will make on their signing bonuses.
I could be watching a news program, or soft porn. I could be watching ESPN or Sesame Street.
But here I am watching the NFL Combine.
Am I off my meds?
Is this crazy?
If the sun were out, if it was above 40 degrees, if there was something to do, I would not be here.
But here I am. I am a visual prisoner in a Tennessee Gulag.
I am eating hot soup like Bob Cratchet bent over a tabulation device.
I am going stir crazy, cabin fever causing my pupils to blister with the yellow mange.
I’m glossy eyed, watching big men in tight under armor clothing running forty yard dashes. They are strutting around like primal beings, their man junk oozing out of their lycra suits.
Not only am I watching. Not only is it being televised. But there are host of announcers commenting on every drill.
Talk about absurd.
Sprightly. Twitchy. Quickness.
These are the words used by Mike Mayock and Rich Eisen.
These broadcasters are part of an entire NFL network devoted to the dissection of this event.
THE COMBINE. EXCLUSIVELY BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE NFL CHANNEL.
Watergate didn’t get this much coverage.
That’s right, it’s an entire channel broadcasting this event around the clock.
These broadcasters have intimate knowledge about obscure defensive ends from Chippewah State. They have information on-line backers from Tulane.
They know what these guys ate for breakfast, what type of toothpaste they use and what ring tones they favor.
You’d think it would be tough to analyze a guy running in a forward direction for all of 4.57 seconds.
But they do it.
These guys have words on top of words.
“They come off the edge. First step speed. Gap pressure. Explosive inside move.”
I’m amazed at the deep insight and comprehensive nuances being used to examine all of this.
For the players, this is the equivalent of an NFL job interview.
But for the NFL network, this is a money machine.
The NFL is big business in America. It is the number one sport and this is the new crop of money makers.
The NFL has taken something that could be nauseatingly mundane and whipped it up into a souffle.
Instead of treating it like the paint drying that it is, they treat it like it’s a nitro burning funny car at the county fair.
Cameras on the roof. Cameras on the coaches. Cameras on the track, under the track, beside the track.
It’s the equivalent of NASCAR only with big hunks of human beef.
Why Am I watching the Combine?
I guess because it is football; Kind of.
It’s big men jumping. It’s big men running. It’s big men throwing a ball to other big men.
Am I this hard up for football that I am watching this slow motion mess?
I guess so.
It’s the middle of winter, there’s an inch of ice on the ground and I am tuned in.
If it’s oblong and spirals through the air, I’m hypnotized.
Please sir. May I have another.
The NFL Combine.
Life’s Crazy™