I'm back. Actually, I was back yesterday. But five minutes into the work day, I was clobbered by that Star Tribune computer virus. So, like the Detroit Lions, I was done almost before I started.
I won't be attending the scouting combine in Indy this week. And I'd like to say I'll watch less coverage of the combine than I have the Olympics. But zero can't be beat, so I'll just say I won't be watching any future NFL stars or busts being weighed in their underware or bench-pressing 225 pounds while some overcaffeinated musclehead screams for one more rep.
To me, the combine can be summed up in two precautionary words:
Troy Williamson.
For every guy who runs real fast or causes a talking head to prattle on about how a player's draft stock is rising, just remember "Troy Williamson."
I hate to pick on Troy. It's not his fault he went to the combine, ran the 40-yard dash of his life and caused the Vikings to loose their minds and pick him seventh overall with the draft pick they got in the Randy Moss trade. Troy was a good kid who couldn't live up to that selection because, well, he was a receiver who couldn't catch.
His selection in the draft had more to do with him running a fast 40 in February of 2005 than it did with anything he did on the football field in the fall of 2004.
Troy isn't the only example of a "combine pick." Perhaps my all-time favorite example was former Gophers cornerback Willie Middlebrooks. I liked Willie Middlebrooks. I also knew there was no way in God's Green Earth that Willie Middlebrooks was a first round draft pick.