The NBA Draft used to be like a holiday to me.
Since I was 7 years old, I'd basically shut down my life once a year to sit in front of the TV, write down who each team picked and remain glued to the TV as the analysts either praised or tore into every pick. I'll likely do the same on June 25, when the 2009 NBA Draft kicks off.
I remember when the Clippers took Darius Miles out of high school with the third pick and Charles Barkley went off, saying: "They're a terrible organization. … I hope he gets out of there. … The Clippers are one of the problems in sports."
That was such a great moment of honest, unbridled criticism that only the NBA Draft could offer.
But as the years have gone by, the NBA and NFL drafts have lost their luster. The endless number of mock drafts has taken away the unpredictability of the actual selections - unless the Oakland Raiders are on the clock, of course.
The weeks - sometimes months - of buildup compounded with the insider reports during the draft remove any element of surprise. Honestly, would it kill us if those extra 17 seconds went by without us knowing that the Knicks were going to take Danilo Gallinari? I keep a pretty close eye on breaking news most of the year, but I'd much prefer the off-the-cuff remarks and genuine reactions.
The element of unintentional comedy is still there, fortunately. I never get tired of watching 6-foot-9 athletes uncomfortably stride to the podium wearing their $3,000 suits and $19.99 team hats to shake hands with an old man and awkwardly pose for photos while making meaningless small talk with the commissioner.
However, that's not enough to make up for how few surprises remain on draft day. As a reporter and follower of sports, I love having a wealth of information available so quickly, so I should love how every media outlet overwhelms its readers and viewers with stats and forecasts about each player and team. We've reached the point where a team will make its selection, and you can hit "Refresh" and get a detailed breakdown of that player and how he will fit in with his new team.
But that's not what I tune into the drafts for. I enjoyed the weeks of uncertainty as opposed to the reports informing the viewers that players reached agreements with teams a week beforehand. I liked discussing with friends who should go where, not who will be going where. What's wrong with waiting until a team actually signs a player to start discussing their eventual impact?
Now, half of the draft-related conversations I have before the actual event end with some variant of, "Yeah, but we already know what they're going to do, so it's not like any of this matters."
In a weird way, I still agree with the latter half of that sentence. So much of a player's success is dependent on where he goes, who his coach is and how well-suited he is for the system he's put in. Skill and upside can only take a player so far.
With the NFL and NBA drafts generally no longer what they were, I was left with very few options to fill that hole in my life. The NHL Draft? Uh, sure. If you want unintentional comedy, you're all set there. Just re-read my description of the players' walk to the podium, only imagine everything with very thick Canadian and Russian accents and unkempt beards.
So that led me to the MLB Draft. In the past, I'd check the results a day or two after it was over, but this year, I decided to follow some of the draft on TV and online.
However, it didn't quite live up to my expectations.
The sense of immediacy and importance found in the NBA and NFL drafts - a first-round pick in either league comes in with huge expectations - is practically nonexistent in the MLB.
For that reason alone, I was excited at the prospect of Stephen Strasburg, the first overall pick by the Washington Nationals, possibly making the jump straight to the big leagues. But Strasburg is a rare exception to the rule that draftees must work their way up through the minor leagues before finally finding a spot on an MLB team.
The draftees, including the 22 Gators and UF signees taken in the 50-round marathon, still have about two months to decide whether or not they want to either return to school - or go to college at all, in many cases - or sign a professional contract. That's just not exciting to me. Imagine if Percy Harvin had put his name in the NFL Draft pool, been selected, then sat around for two months leaving everyone pondering his future.
So I'm still left without a go-to draft. I could go the "It's not you, it's me" route and say I've become too cynical to enjoy them how I used to, or I could just accept the fact that they have changed.
Don't get me wrong: I'll still obsessively watch all of them. It just won't be the same.
