Drew Magary’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday at Defector during the NFL season. Got something you wanna contribute? Email the Roo. And buy Drew’s book, The Night The Lights Went Out, through here.
I’m one of those people now. For nearly two decades, I have treated some of the primary actors in the NFL Draft process—the anonymous scouts, the combine interrogators, the Andy Benoits—with the disdain that they have richly deserved. These are the people who, come early spring, fill the great sucking void in the NFL news cycle with their pettiest gripes regarding top prospects. Before he was drafted first overall and went on to have a borderline Hall of Fame career, Cam Newton accounted for some of the most truly deranged pre-draft analysis I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading. You probably remember those Cam takes, just as you remember Bill Polian suggesting that Lamar Jackson should play wideout, or Mike Mayock publicly marveling at Andrus Peat’s bubble butt. All of these men were not only socially ignorant, but often quite wrong about the very men they were attacking. I enjoyed being above them.
I am no longer above them. The NFL draft attracts true obsessives and I, in my middle age, have grown into one. We all need our escapes in this world, and this is mine. I studied tape of all the top QB prospects last year, because my team desperately needed to draft one. They ended up with J.J. McCarthy, whom the Vikings now think so highly of that they just spent $300 million (agent’s version) in free agency to build a war machine around him. Not a bad deal for yours truly.
This is where the casual draftnik would hop off the ride, as I assumed I would. After all, my team is a bit player in this draft, because they have few immediate needs and even fewer high picks to address them. All they need is a left guard and some young depth talent. That shouldn’t be enough to make me get my tape on.
Reader, I got my tape on. I scoured the consensus boards for players in my team’s range and then searched YouTube for their scouting tape. When I did, I stumbled onto a channel called NFLFilmRoom that posts highlight reels for each prospect, helpfully circling them on screen before the ball is snapped. There is no voiceover in these clips, just some ambient background music. You’re allowed to break down the film how you like, without some Nolan Nawrocki-type talking like a fucking gonzo porn bro behind the camera going, “Oh yeah, look at that ass.”
I set about breaking down the film. Please keep in mind that these are not long videos. They run around 10 minutes, and they only feature select plays. But that’s just enough tape for my web-addled mind to feel complete. I don’t need to watch EVERY snap a guy took in college. I’ve already read up on most of the top prospects and I know what kind of players my team likes. I also played football for a decade and have watched it for over three decades. I don’t know everything about football, because no one does. That’s what makes the sport so beautiful. But I know SOME football, which is just enough for my own pre-draft opinions to be just as valid as Stephen Jones’s, if not more so.
Knowing this, I queued up one highlight tape (Alabama guard Tyler Booker,) wrote down my analysis of what I’d seen (“Good”), and then moved onto the next one. And then I moved onto the one after that, and then the one after that, and you know the rest. Suddenly, I had myself a process. I was asking myself some of the questions that your least favorite draft analysts love to ask, such as:
- Does this guy look like he knows what he’s doing out there?
- Does he look like he takes well to coaching?
- Does have good, consistent footwork?
- Can he move well?
- Is he always in good position?
- Can he make big-boy plays (throws into tight windows, last-second blitz pickups, contested catches)?
- Do I want to keep watching him play? Are my eyes drawn to him? Is he a presence out there?
- He got some dawg in him?
- Does he look like an NFL player?
That last one was the main eye test for me. In my mind, I have played and watched enough football in my time to recognize legit NFL players on instinct. Now, is that true? Of course not. It’s self-aggrandizing horseshit. But it’s the BEST kind of self-aggrandizing horseshit, I tell you. I completely understand how these scouts end up living inside their own asses. Turns out it’s all warm and snuggly in there. And when your prognosis of a guy proves accurate, it’s a Lombardi Trophy for your ego. I watched Drake Maye’s UNC film last year and quickly identified him as legit. I was right. I did that. You’re welcome, New England. My invoice is in the mail.
Once I had Maye nailed, I wanted that rush again. I had the draftnik bug, and it resulted in the following mid-first scouting reports for this weekend. This is not The Beast, but more of a hired goon draft preview:
CB Jahdae Barron, Texas. Yes. Tall. Good anticipation. Doesn’t fuck up any play he has a chance to make.
WR Matthew Golden, Texas. No. Doesn’t pop enough on the tape for me.
WR Luther Burden, Missouri. No. Really good at running after the catch, but so are a lot of college wideouts. Like Peter Warrick. Remember him? You shouldn’t.
S Malaki Starks, Georgia. No. Makes a lot of cool plays on the ball, but thanks to Lewis Cine I fear any Georgia safety who’s a freakish athlete. What if this guy is a fucking moron with an NFL playbook?
G/T/C Grey Zabel, North Dakota State. No. Plays too high. Looks like the kind of O-lineman who’s an all-pro for the Packers but is dogshit anywhere else.
CB Trey Amos, Mississippi. Maybe. Isn’t afraid to get in that ass, but doesn’t come off as all that imposing when he does.
DT Derrick Harmon, Oregon. No. His metrics are insane, but I saw him get washed out of a few plays and that was a dealbreaker for me.
CB Maxwell Hairston, Kentucky. Shit yeah. Crushed the 40 at the combine and plays like it. That’s the next Quinyon Mitchell right there.
DT Walter Nolen, Mississippi. Yes. Is reportedly a bit of a turd, but on tape he plays like a true motherfucker. Double teams mean nothing to this man. No chance he falls down the board … OR IS THERE? Maybe we get the turd discount on him, like we did with Randy Moss.
S Nick Emmanwori, South Carolina. Yes. Big, athletic, versatile. I texted my admiration for Emmanwori to a friend and he texted back, “Oh yeah. Oily hips.” I didn’t sneer at that takeaway. My man really does have that hip oil.
QB Shedeur Sanders, Colorado. My team no longer needs a QB, so I checked out the name-brand passers more for fun than anything else. Sanders is talented as shit on film, but I’m not even certain that Deion Sanders asked his son to learn any designed passing plays.
G Donovan Jackson, Ohio State. My top prize. Look at this guy move across the interior like a fucking ballerina:
Fucking gorgeous. This guy had to fill in at LT for Ohio State for the second half of 2024. The result was a national title. Gimme him.
These are utterly disposable scouting reports. But they’re just as useful as any other ones you’ll read, and they help give me a personal stake, even if it’s imagined one, in what happens tonight. And I’ve only just begun. I’m scouting only the top rounds here, but there’s a fully equipped dungeon of late-round perversions that I’ve yet to explore. Maybe I will. After all, I’m a credible armchair scout now. It’d be negligent of me to NOT go 400 players deep every future spring to get my board shipshape.
I can’t wait. Ignorant shitbirds will write off the NFL draft is just a listing of names. But motherfucker, this isn’t a high school graduation. This is the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, and you’d be shocked at how much fun it is to take it as seriously as all the meatheads do. This is your NFL Draft Jamboroo for 2025. Hit the music:
Now I’m in the mood.
The Draft
All draft nights in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Five Throwgasms
Tonight. Cam Ward is going first tonight. I watched his tape, too. The man has a bananas arm and would probably flourish with a good organization. The Titans are NOT that organization. My kid’s flag football team had better receiving options than poor Cam will. Better coaching, too.
Four Throwgasms
Day Two. This is diffuse draft, talent-wise. A lot of teams may only have first round grades on roughly 15 prospects, but second-round grades on triple that number, if not more. That means any team drafting in the bottom half of the first will be forced to reach for a guy if they can’t find anyone willing to trade down with them. If they DO find a dance partner, don’t expect some kick-ass return. You’ll get an extra fifth and you will LIKE it, bubba.
Also, QBs Jaxson Dart and Jalen Milroe aren’t good enough to merit going in the first round, but they might anyway because A) teams like the Saints are clearly desperate, and B) any team drafting a QB wants a fifth-year option on their rookie contract, which they can only get by drafting them in the first. There’s an allegory to be made here, but I’m tired of allegories. Let’s all just have a good, hearty chuckle when the Giants trade back into the first for one of these hapless puds.
Three Throwgasms
Day Three. Here is where the fatigue sets in. Now’s let ponder the curious case of wideout Isaiah Bond, who was on the receiving end of this miracle fourth-down conversion at the end of the 2023 Iron Bowl:
Bond transferred from Alabama to Texas after this play, only to post worse numbers in 2024. Then Bond went to the Combine this year and told the press that he’d break that event’s 40-yard dash record, currently held by Xavier Worthy. He didn’t come close. Then, two weeks ago, Bond was charged with sexual assault. This man is the Nico Harrison of draft prospects. All he does is fuck up. The Steelers are a lock to draft him. Now, let’s talk about some random crap:
-I know that Donald Trump will live another 500 years, but can THIS asshole at least have the courtesy to die?
We got Chris Matthews out of the paint, and here’s this century-old bucket of gumbo still being treated like he’s a fucking sage. Motherfucker helped Bill Clinton win an election 33 years ago, and his party has been a legion of chumps ever since. I never wanna see his ghoul-ass face ever again. Fucking die, James Carville. Die and rot.
-We have to do something about playoff slogan t-shirts. Both MLB and the NBA now routinely force their players to wear motivational slogan t-shirts like WIN FOR THE CREAM CITY whenever they’re sitting on the bench during a playoff game. These things have all the team spirit of a form letter and make you look like a tourist in your own arena. How fired up can I be for my team if I’m chanting a slogan that was coined by some asshole in corporate who isn’t even a fan of them? The collective imagination of this country has already eroded down to a single grain of sand. The least we can do is allow our players and fans to come up with their own rallying cries. “Win for the cream city.” Fuck’s sake. Eat my asshole, NBA.
-The comp pick formula becomes set in stone after the draft, so be ready on Monday for the second wave of free agency to hit like a derecho.
Predraft Song That Makes Me Wanna Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall
“City Slang,” by Sonic’s Rendezvous Band. No, this band is not sponsored by Sonic the restaurant nor Sonic the Hedgehog. Reader Tom enlightens us:
I came across the tune while listening to a Garage Rock playlist on my streaming service. A kickass song featuring members of The Stooges and MC5? Yes please!
I’ll second that. This one’s all riffs, no bullshit.
Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we’ll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year’s end or sooner. And now, your current 2025 chopping block:
Zac Taylor
Brian Schottenheimer
Shane Steichen*
Mike McDaniel*
Brian Daboll*****
Mike Tomlin
Brian Callahan
(* - potential midseason firing)
Brian Daboll is one of those cases where a coach gets fired after the first month of the season and then everyone asks, Why the fuck didn’t they fire him after LAST season? Well New York, it’s because your owner is slower than a Tesla on fire. No NFL coach is ever fired at the right time, I swear.
Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Dan sends in this story I call CAUGHT BROWN-HANDED:
Years ago I was working for a small nonprofit housed on the 4th floor of an old, repurposed hospital. To my knowledge, much of the fifth floor above us was vacant. While aimlessly wandering around up there one day, I discovered there was a single toilet bathroom hidden among the quiet offices that must've been leftover from when the building was a hospital. I was so excited to have a private, unused bathroom for me to poop in without fear of being only feet from my coworker's desks.
I happily enjoyed my pooping refuge for several weeks (months?) when, after enjoying a relaxing poop on the fifth floor, an older woman followed me down the stairs to our offices on the fourth floor and then, in front of all my coworkers, yelled at me that if I was going to use their toilet on the fifth floor, I could at least have the common courtesy to spray some air freshener, because my shits smelled terrible. She then slammed a can of air freshener on my desk, stared down all my coworkers, and stormed out.
All my coworkers stared at me in silence until one of them started laughing uncontrollably. I don't exactly remember what I did next, but I'm pretty sure I just sat back down at my desk without saying anything and pretended to work. No one in the office ever brought it up again.
Oh my god, is there any worse cop out there than a poop cop? We already have enough self-appointed cops in this world, and now we got random people at work acting like the toilet sheriff? Mind your own poopy business, fifth floor lady! What a dipshit.
Brick Johnson’s Executive Proposal Of The Week
“Dad, Travis Hunter. Gotta get Travis Hunter. My buddy Deck has IronMeme coins ready to sell if we get him. We’re talking billions here. Hey, who the fuck drank all of my Celsius?”
Draft Night Cheap Beer Of The Week
Victoria Malaga! Es muy beuno! From Larry:
The fam and I recently spent a week in Malaga, which was fantastic. Spain is remarkably cheap, but getting a can of beer for a buck at a tourist attraction really bowled me over. And look at how relieved their spokesman is to have some fine lager. Victoria Málaga is a cheap beer that won't disappoint.
I believe you. Apart from eating a light lunch, there’s nothing Spain can’t do. I watched all of Day of the Jackal on Peacock last month and ever since then, I’ve constantly asked myself why I don’t live in Cadiz. I could be chilling out in my baller seaside mansion with Ursula Corbero right now. Instead, I live in America, the dumbest country on Earth. Why do I put up with this fucking dump? Spain isn’t a functional nation, but at least it’s cool. My country hasn’t been cool since Appetite for Destruction. I’m the stupidest asshole who ever lived, and I’m tired of it. I MUST HAVE YOU, ESPANA. (Enrique Iglesias whisper) Te quiero.
Draft Night Movie Of The Week For Giants Fans
Night Moves, a deep '70s cut starring the late Gene Hackman. I’d never heard of this movie prior to Hackman’s death this year, so I queued it up and whoa hey, there’s a young James Woods playing a colossal shitbag! And actress Jennifer Warren featured in perhaps the greatest “working woman lets her hair down and it turns out she’s gorgeous” shot I’ve ever seen. And a young Melanie Griffith! Too young, actually! They shot nude scenes of her at 16 for this and then released the movie when she was 18! I promise you that I did NOT feel good about seeing this on my TV screen.
Otherwise, though, this movie is excellent. The deal is that Hackman is a horny private eye sent by a horny LA mom (Janet Ward) to find her horny daughter (Griffith), who’s run away to Florida with a horny old man. Hackman’s wife (Susan Clark) is getting horny with another man (Harris Yulin) back in L.A., so Hackman uses the betrayal to get horny with Warren before the entire world around him goes to shit. Boobs and blood abound. You won’t find a more 70s movie, and I mean that as a compliment. RIP to the old man. Three and a half stars.
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
“What's so special about this game anyway? It's just another chapter in the pointless rivalry between Springfield and Shelbyville. They built a mini-mall, so we built a bigger mini-mall. They made the world's largest pizza, so we burnt down their city hall.”
“Heh heh heh. Yeah, they swore they'd get us back by spiking our water supply, but they didn't have the guts.”
Enjoy the draft, everyone.
