Or maybe because a decade ago, I spent the better part of two hours on a Playstation 2 trying to get Brett Favre back into a Falcons uniform. They felt they'd put together the base in every area that needs a "base" and wanted to craft a Moss-to-New-England type stunt (albeit a pricier, less insured version) get that first playoff win and more.īut right now the entire Atlanta Falcons fan base is numb to the excitement, muttering various swear words like "mortgage" and "bust" and "Aundray Bruce" and "Rankin Smith" and " Peerless Price," because three decades of never posting consecutive winning seasons is the bumper crop of so many magic beans before. The front office wanted to be more "explosive" (read: more fun) after the Green Bay loss, and this move provides exactly that. Then he spent two drafts in two years stocking the defense and the trench shifts (10 out of 14 picks in 2009-'10, and three of those offensive draftees were linemen).Īfter such a steady (an inarguably successful) build over three years, It's cool to have Julio Jones. In his first stab commanding a NFL Draft, he laid the groundwork for the current Atlanta rennaisance in one massive swoop: securing a franchise quarterback in Matt Ryan and then cherry picking the no-names that would become bonus point on a Wes Durham drinking game in seasons to come: Biermann, Lofton, Douglas, DeCoud. And since his arrival from the Patriots, Falcons general manager Thomas Dimitroff has shied away from "fun," and Falcons fans numb from Vick have applauded politely. In this era of vaunted parity and reverence of the "New England Model," it's not yet illegal to have fun with pro football, but in the eyes of most pundits it's something close to criminal. He's fast, physical when blocking for the run, and if you've got a decent receiver opposite him, he loads your offense for bear. Julio Jones is, by any measure, potentially that next "cool" player you'd always want on your team, and in instances when you, the fan, have control (fantasy drafts, Xbox), you get him. Fun is what your friends end up doing: starting a simulated video game season and trading the house for the best player possible. For years it was digital finagling to land Randy Moss in a bizarre uniform, then Michael Vick, then a passel of top flight running backs with short shelf lives.
No one marveled at Cam Newton's run through the SEC last season and exclaimed, "I can't wait to see him trying to win meaningless games on his own in Carolina!" No one unwraps a brand new copy of Madden, starts a franchise mode and squeals, "Dudes, let's consistently trade down to build depth, because that's AWESOME!" No one has FCS playoff viewing parties to scout that cornerstone interior lineman destined for a fifth round pick and minor local fame in a single market. We love college football, and we love hypothesizing how its biggest stars could fit into the NFL's best teams, not how they'd help usher in a rebuilding phase or balance depth on a roster. High first round draft picks are awesome.