The NFL Combine Report

MB MBSenior Analyst IFebruary 23, 2009
The four players who stood out to me in the 2009 Combine:

Ian Johnson

Breaking news—this running back who played at Boise State did something really cool I bet none of you knew. He proposed to his girlfriend after he scored the winning two-point conversion to upset the Adrian Peterson Oklahoma Sooners in the 2006 Fiesta Bowl. 

When will this go away?
Of course before Johnson ran his 40, the NFL Network had to replay the moment of him proposing. Yes, it was a cute moment and I’m glad they are in love. But can the guy get attention for being, let’s say, the all-time WAC touchdown leader, being a team guy, and giving up carries to help the team his junior and senior seasons? 
I don’t know, but since this is the combine, get excited that he ran a 4.48.


Gartrell Johnson
What are you wearing? I understand your legs are huge, but there is no reason to be wearing boyshorts. 
Why would you want an NFL team to be thinking about shorts you probably stole from a Colorado State women’s volleyball player instead of your career day in the New Mexico Bowl with a 285-yard, two touchdown performance? 
The two things worse than those shorts were your 40 time (4.71...can you say fullback?) and your jersey in the bowl game. 
Gartrell, this isn’t 1993. Guys don’t show their belly-button anymore on the field. So, when you get to the league, tuck in your jersey and stop looking like a 15-year-old girl at the Arkansas County Fair.


Pat White
Pat, I loved you as a competitor throughout your four-year career at West Virginia. 
You showed a lot of heart and won four bowl games in a row, including an unforgettable freshman bowl win against Georgia in the Sugar Bowl. 
The issue I have with you at the combine is you’re not Kurt Warner. I understand you flicked the pill around in the your last game vs. North Carolina in the Meineke Car Care bowl, but the combine is indoors at the Lucas Oil Center, so take the gloves off. 
I guess I shouldn’t hate too much, because you will need those gloves either as a third-string quarterback to keep warm, or when you are playing receiver or punt returner because there is no way you will ever be an NFL quarterback.


Chase Daniel
I hate to bash you, Chase, because you are one of my favorite college quarterbacks ever. You are the athlete every overweight, degenerate, gambling, non-athletic fan can root for because they see themselves in you. 
You throw a very nice ball, but you benefited from playing in an offense at Missouri that you’ve been in since your Dragon days at Texas’ South Lake Carol High School. 
Every time I watched you play this season, I loved the fact you didn’t need a rib protector because you had your gut instead. 
As for the combine, you and your agent must have thought it would be beneficial to—instead of going to the pre-combine training facility that the majority of participants went to—train on frat row at Missouri.

Chase, the NFL combine doesn’t test for beer bong time, beer pong shot accuracy, and how to handle yourself like a tool. Instead, they test for athleticism: something the announcers reminded me you had every Saturday. 

They would hype you as a quick runner and someone who keeps defenses on their toes because you could not only pass, but run well, too. 
Guess what announcers: he isn’t athletic. He ran a 4.932 40.
Chase, you are supposed to improve from your senior year in high school (the summer before his senior year, Chase “supposedly” ran a 4.58). I wish I was at the combine to answer Chase’s question after he ran: “What was my time?"

I would have replied with one my favorite quotes from Little Giants, when Ed O’Neil said, “I don't know son, I don't have a sundial. Now get back in line.”

I’m sorry to say, Chase, your future isn’t in the NFL. Instead, you could make one hell of a quarterback for a park and recreation adult flag football league. 

Remember, you are that guy who used to watched you play each Saturday. Act like them; put on those one-size-too-small Russell sweats, the different-colored zippered hoodie, and the Wal-Mart beanie. Ball in your flag football game, go to the local sports bar, and kill a few pitchers and some curly fries.