Every year the NFL Draft comes around and everyone turns out to be wrong about it. The fans, the Kipers, the analytics guys, the coaches, the beloved online football tutors, the front office drones: None of them know dick. In fact, NFL teams themselves go out of their way to make poor decisions this time of year. They study all of the tape, conduct all of the workouts, and do background checks that include gut bacteria levels for every prospect. Then draft night hits and the owner is like A GENIE CAME TO ME IN A DREAM AND TOLD ME THAT RON POWLUS IS OUR MAN, and all of that prep work gets flushed down the toilet.
Tom Brady’s college tape was dogs—t
