With a pandemic sweeping the nation, the NFL conducted the first-ever virtual draft Thursday. There was no in-person audience to rain down boos and occasional cheers. Absent were the swarms of photographers to capture sharp suits and perfect smiles worn by first-round picks.
Instead, many of these college-aged superstars donned sweatpants and sat on couches in their parents’ basements. Never have I felt closer to my favorite players. What a rush.
Assuming the 2020 NFL season actually happens, these young men will soon fly the nest for good and settle down in places of their own. In the case of premiere prospects Joe Burrow, Chase Young and Tua Tagovailoa, it will be awhile before they can truly call their new teams home.
Joe Burrow’s riverside Cincinnati bungalow
When I was 8, my dad moved into an old bi-level in dire need of repair. The first story featured a gaping hole in one wall, which we affectionately referred to as a walkout basement for small animals. Still, that dilapidated hut would look like a mansion compared to the Cincinnati Bengals.
Calling Cincinnati a fixer-upper is a disservice to all the mold-riddled roach palaces of the world.
Stylistically, the Bengals are trapped in the early 1980s like an outdated living room. Hopes and win totals might be higher if they were not stunted by low popcorn ceilings. Squeaky plastic sofa covers are the only line of defense between upholstery and ungodly soupy Skyline chili stains. Scrub the shag carpets all you want, but the lingering scent of mediocrity remains
Burrow is being asked to renovate a property that should have been condemned long ago. No matter how handsome and square-jawed the contractor, whether it’s Burrow or the Property Brothers, there’s no transforming a smoldering pile of ash into a chic mid-century colonial.
Chase Young’s gothic Washington manor
Chase Young was a bogeyman to offensive linemen in college, but even he may be out of his depth in the Redskins’ haunted house.
Portraits of once-promising athletes line the hallways. In the backyard sits a graveyard of first-round talents.
Quarterback Joe Theismann’s tenure in Washington famously ended in 1985 when his tibia and fibula were folded underneath his body. Exactly 33 years later to the day, a nearly identical hit left Alex Smith’s leg looking like the least appetizing soft pretzel you’ll ever lay eyes on.
In 2019, offensive tackle Trent Williams revealed he had a tumor on his head that team doctors failed to recognize despite his complaints.
It will take more than sage and incense for Washington to exorcise the incompetence in its front office. Before Young fully commits to his new digs, he might want to consider that the lease he is signing could very well be a deal with the football devil.
It’s only fitting that an organization whose mascot is a racist allusion to a Native American would be cursed as if it were constructed atop a cliched Indian burial ground.
Tua Tagovailoa’s cozy Miami condominium
While discussing Tua Tagovailoa, ESPN’s pundits noted the many wounds the quarterback sustained at the University of Alabama. Yet for some reason, the broadcast never mentioned the most debilitating injury Tagovailoa has suffered — being selected by the Miami Dolphins.
This undesirable destination is rife with misery, smothered by oppressive heat and nestled in the depths of its division. I admittedly didn’t always pay the closest attention in high school English, so I probably missed the chapter of "Inferno" where Dante visits the Dolphins’ locker room.
First, there’s the roommate situation, wherein Tagovailoa will have to cozy up with fellow signal callers Josh Rosen and Ryan Fitzpatrick. I can’t help but doubt the zany hijinks in “New Girl” are an accurate representation of a crowded living space.
Furthermore, Miami is beachfront real estate in the worst way. Everything is sunshine and sandcastles until the air conditioning gives out or you find a snake in the toilet. Unfortunately for Dolphins fans, the past decade has seen far more septic tank pythons than refreshing breezes.
Like a pair of sweat-soaked Hanes on a Floridian’s keister during a hot summer’s day, Miami is stuck to the bottom of the AFC East.
