Adam Klein kicked back, crossing his legs and leaning hard against the back of his chair. The plastic seat in the stadium groaned like it was carrying the weight of the world. Next to him was an old dude, probably around sixty-five, with white hair, a round face, and a beer belly. The guy had a kind, gentle vibe going on.
They were chatting in low voices, nodding now and then, their faces showing they were deep in some serious talk.
Blake Simons hung up his phone and slipped it into his pocket, not rushing to butt in. He waited a bit, and when the old man finally left, Blake strolled over and plopped down next to Adam, his eyes following the old guy. "Why'd Wade Phillips swing by? Who's he eyeing? Justin James Watt? Or Von Miller?"
The old dude was Wade Phillips, the Dallas Cowboys' head coach from '07 to '10. This year, he snagged the defensive coordinator gig for the Houston Texans. With forty years of coaching under his belt, the guy was a defensive guru.
Adam lifted his chin, smirking, "Take a wild guess."
So, not Justin or Von, Blake thought, squinting at Adam. Instead of answering, he leaned back and looked at the field where the rookies were gearing up for the next drill. "Just got a call. Bet you can't guess who it was." Blake grinned, using Adam's own trick, but he didn't leave him hanging. "Mike Shula from the Carolina Panthers."
"Are they nuts?" Adam shot back instantly.
Mike Shula was a quarterbacks coach who'd spent the last three years with the Jacksonville Jaguars and had just joined the Carolina Panthers this year.
The Panthers had the first overall pick in this year's draft, and their QB, Jimmy Clausen, was a total trainwreck. Everyone and their dog thought they'd go for a quarterback, with Cam Newton being the top pick.
So, Mike calling scouts, especially Blake, meant they were thinking about Luke.
"Is everyone losing their marbles over a Wonderlic test?" Adam shook his head, looking totally baffled. Ditching Cam for Luke? Even if it was just a thought or a feeler, Adam figured the Panthers had lost it.
Blake grinned, "So, Wade's here for number eleven too?"
The rookie quarterback from UCLA, Luke, had blown up after yesterday's basic tests. No one had heard of him before, so the hype was off the charts. Everyone was buzzing, trying to get the scoop on this mystery guy.
Luke, that was number eleven's name. In just one day, it seemed like everyone knew it. The buzz had only gotten louder overnight. But Blake and Adam still called him "number eleven," like the nickname still held some magic from that epic Rose Bowl night.
This time, Adam didn't mess around. He shrugged, "Yeah, he asked about a few defensive players, but he definitely wanted to know about number eleven."
Clearly, the Houston Texans didn't want anyone to know they were eyeing quarterbacks, so they sent Wade, their defensive coordinator, to throw everyone off the scent.
"First the Texans, now the Panthers. I just heard someone else is sniffing around too." Blake shared the latest gossip, turning to Adam. He didn't need to say more; his eyes said it all. Adam threw up his hands, looking exasperated, "The Miami Dolphins are poking around too."
Quarterbacks are always the hottest commodity for every team. A top-tier QB means a team can build around him for the next decade. Even teams with star quarterbacks look for backups to cover their butts in case of injuries, aging, or a slump.
Especially in the last fifty years, the league has changed the rules for safety and entertainment, making running backs less important. The NFL has become a passing league, making quarterbacks the offensive MVPs.
So, every draft, quarterbacks are the main attraction. In draft history, QBs have been picked first overall the most, a whopping thirty-one times. Running backs are second, with twenty-three first overall picks.
This year’s no different. More than half the teams need a quarterback. There are twenty-one QBs in the training camp, and they’ll be scrutinized before any draft picks are made. With all the uncertainty, almost every team is getting antsy.
A perfect score on the Wonderlic Personnel Test is like catnip for these teams. The first day of training camp threw everyone for a loop, causing a major stir.
Blake watched Adam closely. "You don't look too thrilled. What's up? I thought this was good news. Haven't you been all over number eleven?"
"I just think they're setting themselves up for disappointment," Adam said, sounding genuinely worried. As a seasoned scout, he knew how cutthroat the league could be, and he wanted talented players to have a shot. "These teams are just jumping on the bandwagon. Look at the big dogs like the New England Patriots, Indianapolis Colts, Green Bay Packers—they're not making any hasty moves. If they're hyped just because of a perfect Wonderlic score, they're in for a letdown. Check out number eleven's forty-yard dash time..."
Adam didn't need to finish. Blake got it right away: the higher the hype, the bigger the fall. Number eleven had no solid foundation. If he bombed the upcoming tests, he'd be forgotten fast, making it way harder to climb back up.
Today was day two of training camp, and the first task was the forty-yard dash. It's like the 100-meter sprint in the Olympics—a pure test of speed and explosiveness, and one of the most thrilling events.
The forty-yard dash in football is a big deal. Every rookie runs it to show off their speed, strength, explosiveness, and overall fitness. They time it at ten and twenty yards too, to measure a player's burst. The data from these splits means different things for different positions.
For example, the ten-yard split is crucial for offensive and defensive linemen because their runs rarely go beyond ten yards in games. It's all about that explosive start.
The current league record for the forty-yard dash is 4.24 seconds, set by Chris Johnson in 2008.
Luke's forty-yard dash time? 4.89 seconds.
For a quarterback, the forty-yard dash isn't the be-all and end-all, but it does show physical fitness. The average time for QBs is 4.87 seconds, but Luke didn't even hit that. Compare that to this year's top draft pick favorite, Cam Newton, who clocked in at 4.59 seconds—insane for a guy his size, like a bulldozer.
Blake sat up straight, serious. "But speed and strength aren't number eleven's game. If he did the twenty-yard shuttle or the three-cone drill, he'd crush it. More importantly, number eleven's strengths are his football IQ, his ability to read defenses, and his passing accuracy. Those are the real deal!"
Adam glanced at Blake. "But others can't see that."
Blake was stumped. Even for scouts like them, the data was limited to just two game tapes, about fifteen minutes plus two minutes of game footage, including all the pauses—less than half an hour.
Now, Blake got Adam's point. Adam was worried about number eleven. He wanted a thorough evaluation, not for him to be a sideshow under the hype and spotlight.
A perfect Wonderlic score—blessing or curse?
Blake sighed. "Let's see what happens tomorrow." Tomorrow would be the position-specific tests, where players would show off their skills and abilities relevant to their positions.
As Adam predicted, the buzz around Luke lasted only a day before fizzling out. The shine of a perfect Wonderlic score dimmed after the second day's tests. Overnight, the ugly duckling, not yet a swan, was back to square one.
The tests included seven events: the forty-yard dash, 225-pound bench press, vertical jump, broad jump, twenty-yard shuttle, sixty-yard shuttle, and three-cone drill.
Players didn't have to do all the events. For example, quarterbacks and wide receivers could skip the bench press, but offensive and defensive linemen had to do it. The sixty-yard shuttle was mandatory for wide receivers but optional for other positions. Quarterbacks could pick and choose based on their strengths.
In the end, Luke's performance was underwhelming, even below average, leaving many disappointed.