Share on facebook
Share on google
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin

Now a week away, the upcoming NFL Draft carries as much buzz and intrigue as any I can recall. I’m mocking “mock drafts.” Nobody knows what’s going to unfold. This will get crazy, and there will be some bombshell surprises. The Texans, with the number two pick, are in position to start the chaos.

Nothing illustrates how much pro football has changed in the last decade more than the  devaluation of the running back position. Saquon can’t get paid, and the Vikings may simply part company with Dalvin Cook. This is a classic supply/demand model, resulting in a “buyer’s market.”

Joe Mixon will be the next casualty. He often looked mediocre at best in Cincy last season, and that was before he once again got into legal trouble. Next.

I’m hoping that some forward-looking NFL team will invest in former Louisiana WR Michael Jefferson, who was struck by a suspected drunk driver a week and a half ago. Jefferson, who has been considered a solid middle-round pick in next week’s draft, suffered serious injuries and was released from the hospital Wednesday. He will miss the 2023 season, but doctors say he should be able to play the following year. He’s a good player and a good young man. I hope he gets a shot from a team that can afford to make a 2023 investment in a 2024 asset.

Think about how horrible the Jaguars were in 2021 under Urban Meyer. Now take a look at how bright their future is now that they have an actual head coach in Doug Pederson. Jacksonville is my pick to win the AFC Souff. The Jags are both bold and bright. Their acquisition of former Falcons WR Calvin Ridley, even before he had finished serving his NFL suspension for gambling, was a big “upside move.” Ridley is now cleared to go. He has expressed remorse, along with a burning desire to restore his name and re-showcase his talent. He will make Trevor Lawrence look even better, and vice versa.

Nothing and nobody can make Dan Snyder look good. Attorneys representing more than 40 Commanders employees are asking the NFL to make approval of the team’s sale contingent on Danny Boy pledging not to sue people who cooperated in the investigations that led to Snyder’s downfall. I can understand their concern. Snyder is a really rotten guy.

The harder they work, the softer they fall.  At least that’s Tua Tagovailoa’s hope and goal. Tua has spent much of his offseason training with a jiu-jitsu coach, trying to learn how to fall more safely to help avoid future concussions. His career depends on that avoidance.

What was that sticky stuff that umpires found in Max Scherzer’s glove Wednesday night? A soft praline? Whatever it was, it got Max tossed, and could result in a 10-game suspension. Scherzer says it was just a clumpy combination of rosin and sweat. I tend to believe him. The Mets hope MLB believes Scherzer, too.

Maybe the city of Oakland should sue Las Vegas for serial theft. Bye-bye, Oakland A’s. Hello Vegas.

Ankle fusion surgery for Tiger, this time just trying to relieve mind-blowing pain. Damn, man. I know most of your troubles have been self-inflicted, but this is gutting me to watch you go through this.

Steve Kerr says there’s really nothing he or anyone else can do to stop Draymond Green from doing stupid shit, like, say, stomping on an opponent’s chest. I respect Kerr, but his surrender to this nonsense is disappointing, to say the least.

Wuddya do if you’re without an injured Giannis? You jack up 49 three-point attempts. And you hit an NBA record-tying 25 of them. Bucks and Heat now tied at one.

The Cowboys-49ers rivalry really started with those three consecutive playoff matchups in 1970, ’71 and ’72. Dallas won them all, but those games were brutal bloodbaths, featuring two of the NFL’s greatest-ever outside linebackers in the Cowboys’ Chuck Howley and the ‘Niners’ Dave Wilcox. As a young Cowboy fan, I not only respected Wilcox, I feared him. Nicknamed “The Intimidator,” Wilcox twice earned first-team All-Pro honors, added two second-team selections and went to seven Pro Bowls in his eleven seasons in SF. He was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2000. Dave Wilcox died Wednesday at 80. This Cowboy fan mourns his passing and honors his memory.

4-20? Nah, man. Not my thing. But I might buy you a cold Fat Tire at quitting time, which comes comparatively early when you start working at 1:30 a.m.

The things I do for you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

Paul's Bio

I clearly have the attention span of your median fruit fly.Look! Airplane!

Sorry. I’m back.

It’s both a curse and a blessing. I’ve never bought this stuff about, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” But I do think that a wide range of life experiences helps us grow as people, and helps us better relate to other people. I’ve been fortunate. And I am beyond grateful.

I show up on time. I go like hell. I’m a good listener. I hold myself accountable. I own my mistakes. And I have a natural and an insatiable curiosity. I’m never afraid to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t. But then I try to find out.

The flip side is I’m a lousy ballroom dancer and my clothes sometimes fit me funny.

Stuff matters to me. I care. But while I take that stuff seriously, I try hard to never take myself seriously. As a result, I have sometimes been told, “Paul, it’s hard to tell when you’re serious and when you’re just having some fun. Which is it? Serious or fun?”

My answer is “yes.” But I think that is a legitimate criticism. I promise I’m going to work on that.

This has been the quickest and strangest half-century I’ve ever experienced. During that period, I’ve been afforded amazing opportunities in news and sports journalism across all platforms. I have taught wonderful students at the high school and collegiate level. Always, I learned more from them than they did from me. I’ve been a high school administrator. I spent ten seasons as a high school varsity football coach. I’ve been an advertising executive. I’ve hosted nationally syndicated television entertainment shows. In maybe the biggest honor I ever received, I was selected by NASA to be “Chet The Astronaut” for the “Land The Shuttle” simulator at Space Center Houston. (All I can say there, is “Do as I say, not as I do.” I put that thing in the Everglades more often than not.) Most recently, I just wrapped up a decade as a television news director, during which time our teams distinguished themselves in holding the powerful accountable, achieving both critical and ratings success.

What does all that mean? It means I am profoundly grateful. It also means I’m ready for “next.” So here we are. Radically Rational. It’s an idea I woke up with in 2017. I scribbled “Radically Rational” on a piece of notebook paper and used a magnet to stick it on our refrigerator. I saw it every day, and it just would not leave me alone.

I am second in charge at Radically Rational, LLC. My wife, Jo (also known as BB), is the president. Clearly, I have failed in my attempt to sleep my way to the top of this organization.

I hope you will learn that I’m loyal as a Labrador. But I will admit that this doggie can bite every now and then. My promise to you? I will show up on time. I will go like hell. I will listen to you earnestly and attentively. I will hold myself accountable. I will never be the least bit hesitant to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t.

But then I’ll try to find out. Let’s do it.