The NFL's Basement Boys: Profiling the Sad-Sack Six

Which team is on the clock for next year's draft?

Which team is the worst in a parity-leveled league?

Who is in the basement of the NFL?

Michael Vick not only wrecked his life, he shattered the Atlanta Falcons in the process.

These Falcons are birds without wings. 

The offensive line is bad. Really bad. The wide-receiver corps, never a bright spot for the black birds, has been drained of any quality. The defense has been gutted.

Bright spots are the promises of new star QB—Matt Ryan—and a new head coach—Mike Smith.

Ryan's hope is that he isn't beaten and battered too badly before the team builds around him.

Speedy ex-Sand Diego Charger Michael Turner will be of some help. But not much, considering the sad sate of the offensive line.

The last time someone was beat around this badly in Atlanta?

Confederate General Joseph Johnston was blitzed and sacked by Union General Sherman and his gang-tackling defense.

Expect the Falcons to pick first next year.

Unless the St Louis Rams beat them to it.

The Rams' stars are fading. The QB, Marc Bulger, is fragile. The offensive line is unstably anchored by an aging, oft-injured star, Orlando Pace. The star running back, Steven Jackson, is holding out for big bucks. The star receiver, Torry Holt, constantly seems to be hurting.

The coach, Scott Linehan, seems likely to be fired. The team, in estate turmoil, might be sold and sent back to live and die in L.A.

The Rams will be worse than the Falcons by season's end.

Across the Show-Me State, Herman Edwards wonders when it will all come together for QB Brodie Croyle.

Unfortunately for Herman's hurting head, the Beatles' song playing in Brodie's brain when he reads defenses is "Helter Skelter."

A poor QB is a coach killer.

The Chiefs traded their best player, DE Jared Allen, to the Minnesota Vikings. Their promising rookies, Branden Albert and Glenn Dorsey, are banged up. The once-great offensive line is gone, and the new line is not good.

But if Brodie can't offer a threat with his passing attack, Larry Johnson will be stuffed and frustrated, and the heat will be on Herm.

San Francisco 49ers' Coach Mike Nolan is exasperated with highly-paid top pick Alex Smith. Smith's football-light has not gone on, except to occasionally flash tilt when pressure is put on him.

In desperation, the 'Niners might go with journeyman Jonathan Sullivan. The 'Niners need a lot of things, but mostly they need Eddie DeBartolo back. The brain trust of the 'Niners lacks football brains, and they increasingly seem like a team with no direction, no plan, and little hope.

Floridians begin screaming, "What about the Fish?" Well, the Fish will flounder, sure, but the Miami Dolphins have the promise of capable professionalism that Bill Parcells beings to an organization.

In this parity-driven league, that, a capable defense, a steady—not stellar—QB, some capable free agents, and promising rookies give the Fish a chance to swim upward as the season progresses.

For now, they'll flail at the basement steps, ready to jump upwards.

Parcells at least brings promise, something several of these teams lack.

Ready to tumble down the basement steps?

Hemingway's Harry Morgan said a man alone has no chance. Well, a QB without an offensive line doesn't either, as Kyle Orton will painfully learn while running the Bears' offense.

The Bears might disintegrate, but their defense will keep them in games...Until they tire as the season wears on.

The Oakland Raiders spent money in the offseason like a rum-drunk pirate rampaging around old Port Royal.

The pressure is on Al Davis to prove he can win again, and win with a coach he doesn't seem to particularly like.

If the young players step up and the high-priced free agents jell, the Raiders could break through, but early failures could lead to a big flop by the Bay.

As always, the Cincinnati Bengals remain one high-speed, police-running, submachine-gun fight away from completely unraveling and costing Marvin Lewis his job.

That's eight, I know I said sad-sack six, but I got carried away with cranky criticism and eights skate; so let's leave it at that.

And, of course, hope for the best. This time of year, every team has hope. And hope, after all, never fled from that old box of Pandora.

Ancient Pandora's other poisonous problems will plague some ill-fated teams this year. They always do.

Everything's precarious this time of year, as the regular season draws near.

A seemingly bad team can get on a lucky run and roll them hot bones to a successful season.

Or a fragile team can spectacularly explode, like the doomed Hindenburg on a hot Jersey night.