The Torture of the NFL Draft
Last weekend was the NFL draft and a time of great trepidation. The reason; I am a diehard Detroit Lions fan. I lived through the Wayne Fontes Rollercoaster Rides, the Scott Mitchell fiasco, Andre Ware abortion, and watch in horror the slow death of Barry Sanders love of the game. Every year, they take a little more of my soul with them.

As I sat down this year to watch the first two rounds, I made a solemn oath. If Todd McShay, Mel Kiper, Jr., or John Clayton put the Lions in the “What were they thinking?” category, it was all over. I was going to flush the memory of the improbably NFC title game run right down the toilet. Thinking back to those days, I remember my testicles retreating into my cavity while I watched Erik Kramer fumbling the ball about 3 seconds into the game, Mark Rypien getting obvious calls from the referees and openly pining for a Proactive sponsorship, Darrell Green with game changing pass interference that resulted in a Redskins touchdown, pushing the score to 41-10. I have clung to that modicum of success for 17 years!