The Only Thing Scientific Is Numbering of the Picks

You probably never heard of Bernie Faloney. Well, back in the early days of the pro football draft, he was a highly sought quarterback from Maryland, the toast of the East, the No. 1 pick of the San Francisco 49ers.

He was no Joe Montana. A lot of people besides the 49ers thought he was going to be. But he never played a down for the 49ers.

You probably never heard of George Izo, either. But when he quarterbacked Notre Dame, the pros thought he was going to be another Sammy Baugh. Great arm. The St. Louis Cardinals and New York Jets, then in the AFL, both drafted him. No career, to speak of.

You probably do remember Terry Baker. He was a quarterback with unlimited potential from Oregon State when the Rams made him their bonus pick in 1963. Terry had an incredible 4,980 yards in total offense in college in 1962. He was a runaway Heisman winner. Trouble was, he could never figure out whether he was a passer or a runner. As a result, he was neither.

I am reminded of all this dubious history each year at this time as the annual NFL draft comes down.

It’s gotten to be quite a production. Grave scholars of the game sit studying their charts, computers, scouting reports, films and, for all I know, Ouija boards and horoscopes to come up with the player or players who will produce an instant Super Bowl for their franchises.

They think it’s an exact science. It’s a crapshoot. It’s about as scientific as a lottery.

No one really knows when a college player is a pro prospect. They have scouting “combines.” They work the players out in tryout locations. They time them, weigh them, chart them. They leave nothing to chance.

That’s what they think. The litany is always the same: “He runs the 40 in 4.3, he can bench-press a Volkswagen.” Sometimes, he can even read.

Everybody is an “impact” player, whatever that means. History shows us that, for a lot of them, their only impact will be on the driver’s seat of a truck. You have to wonder what’s so smart about scouting combines, or even individual computers, when you remember that Montana was an 87th pick in his draft.

Getting a Heisman Trophy winner is no guarantee of success. Archie Griffin, the only player to win consecutive Heismans, had a ho-hum career with the Cincinnati Bengals. He scored seven touchdowns in eight years. Teammate Pete Johnson scored 64 in those years.

The drafters are always dazzled by running backs--the Red Grange or Four Horsemen syndrome. The bulk of the evidence is, running backs are a glut on the market. A half a step or less separates the best from the worst. You need a running back, of course, but the reality is, you don’t have to waste a high draft choice on one.

This fact of life seems to have seeped into the front offices. In this year’s draft, it is interesting to note that only two of the 29 players in the first round were of the classic Galloping Ghost mode--Garrison Hearst and Robert Smith. Hearst can put up some interesting numbers, but will never bring his team close to a Super Bowl. Ask Herschel Walker. Bo Jackson. Eric Dickerson. Gale Sayers. Heck, Earl Campbell.

Still, sifting through the data bases for quarterbacks can be a moon shot. For every Jim McMahon you get out of Brigham Young, you get a Marc Wilson, Robbie Bosco or Ty Detmer. The New England Patriots sent police escorts for Jack Concannon in 1964 and Tony Eason in 1983. But they drafted Steve Grogan, the best quarterback they ever had, 116th.

During Sunday’s draft, the first two pickers selected quarterbacks. Not another quarterback was selected during the first round and not many during any other round. Surely a mistake. But it won’t be the first. Bart Starr got drafted during the 17th round by the Green Bay Packers. He only won the first two Super Bowls, six division titles, five NFL titles, was Super Bowl MVP twice and led the league in passing four times.

So, before you throw your hat in the air because your team got some “impact” player who can outrun a gazelle, out-hit a tank or throw a football through a keyhole at 90 yards, consider the following:

In 1980, the Detroit Lions drafted halfback Billy Sims, a Heisman winner, No. 1. During the seventh round, they drafted a kicker from Tulane, Ed Murray. Sims had a nice career: 5,000 yards, 282 points. But it’s over. At last count, Murray had 1,113 points, a few of them last season.

Now, that is an impact player.