Declaring Early: It’s a Coming Out Party

Maybe the ones who ought to be boycotting aren’t basketball coaches, whining over one lost scholarship. Maybe, instead, the ones who ought to be walking are football players, who give up their last year of eligibility for the promise of pro riches, only to end up on the outer edges of the NCAA limb, swaying ever so unsteadily.

Quarterbacks Trent Dilfer of Fresno State and Heath Shuler of Tennessee were among 29 underclassmen who declared for the NFL draft last week. No problem. They bring substantial credentials with them and are certain to be picked early--probably the first two passers to be chosen.

For others, however, declaring early is more of a gamble.

Suppose you announce you’re coming out for the draft and then don’t get picked. Then what? In college football, you’re out of luck. There is no turning back.

Last week, the protectors of motherhood and apple pie at the NCAA corrected the problem for basketball players, voting to permit those who declare and then are not gleefully embraced by the pros to make a U-turn and regain their remaining collegiate eligibility.

For football players, though, second chances still don’t exist.

“It would seem to be reasonable to expect that will be changed next year,” said Chuck Neinas, executive director of the College Football Assn. “It seems like a good idea, doesn’t it?”

Generally, about half the undergraduates who declare for the NFL draft get picked. Last year, it was 24 of 46 and the year before, 25 of 48. The others vanish into a kind of football purgatory, drifting from training camp to training camp.

Some of them catch on, like Washington State wide receiver Philip Bobo, signed as a free agent with the Los Angeles Rams. Others don’t, like Vanderbilt tight end Pat Akos.

They were among the underclassmen who declared for the NFL draft a year ago. Also in the Class of ’93 were a couple of Atlantic Coast Conference linebackers--Marvin Jones of Florida State and Keith Battle of North Carolina State.

Jones came out with all of the pomp and circumstance appropriate to his status as an All-American from Florida State. Battle’s decision to go pro was greeted with considerably less hoopla.

For both, there were no guarantees. For Jones, though, there was plenty of probability.

“There’s always some uncertainty,” Jones said. “I hoped I would get picked high, but you really never know. They keep you in the dark. You think anything can happen. It’s hard to believe something you’ve hoped for is really going to happen. You look at the dark side. A lot of people said I should have stayed.”

Still, Jones had an armful of awards to reinforce his decision. “I was confident,” he said. “My name kept appearing among the top five. I knew.”

Predictably, Jones was pounced upon by the New York Jets, who made him the fourth choice in the 1993 draft. He made it through half the season before suffering a fractured hip. While he was rehabilitating, his old college team finally won the national championship it had flirted with during his time in Tallahassee. There are no regrets, though.

“The way I see it, even though I’m not there, I still feel a part of it,” he said. “I helped put them in that position. I don’t feel bad. I’m happy for them. It would be nice to be there. But I made a decision and I have no regrets. This would have been my senior year. I could have been hurt playing there. Then what?”

No pro contract. That’s what.

After Jones was picked, Battle waited, and waited, and waited.

Thirty-six other linebackers went in the 1993 draft. Battle was not one of them. He was out there for eight rounds, available, hoping for somebody, anybody to call his name. And when the draft was over, he was still out there, a linebacker with nowhere to go.

Now what?

“He’s been here, working out,” said William Hicks, strength and conditioning coach for NC State. “He’s staying in shape, hoping for a shot.”