A man who made ‘last’ so very cool
League took the time to honor Paul Salata at last week’s draft
Only the hardiest of NFL fans stick around to watch the end of the third and final day of the draft. To Paul Salata, it was pure joy.
In 1976, Salata, who played three seasons of pro football in the 1940s and 1950s, created Mr. Irrelevant, a tongue-in-cheek award for the last player chosen in the draft. His motivation was simple: He wanted to celebrate a player who might otherwise be overlooked.
Salata, who grew up in poverty and later built a successful sewer construction business, understood that underdogs needed a pat on the back.
After playing for the AllAmerican Football Conference’s San Francisco 49ers in 1949 and 1950, Salata maintained ties to the franchise as the league merged with the NFL. In the 1970s, he manned the phones at the draft, then annually held in a New York hotel conference room where teams would call the players as they were chosen. There were no fans or television cameras. It was at those drafts that Salata struck on the idea of Mr. Irrelevant.
Pete Rozelle, the league’s commissioner and an old friend of Salata’s from California, liked his idea, and starting in 1976, the last player drafted would be crowned Mr. Irrelevant. Although ESPN had started televising and hosting players at the draft in person by the 1980s, the last pick was unlikely to still be there in person. Salata would hold up a jersey with the threedigit number that represented the last pick of the draft.
For the next 45 years, Salata and his friends would fete each Mr. Irrelevant after the draft in Newport Beach, Calif., with a banquet, a parade, and assorted activities such as surfing lessons and visits to Disneyland.
Salata’s award added a rare dose of humor and serendipity to the draft, where players nervously await their fates and fans pin their hopes on next season’s rookies. And it allowed Salata to celebrate players who overcame the odds to get drafted by an NFL team.
This year, for the first time since he created Mr. Irrelevant, Salata was not be around to witness his creation. He died in October at 94.
But Salata’s daughter and son-in-law, Melanie and Ed Fitch,carried on his tradition whenthe 262nd and final pick — in this case, Iowa State quarterback Brock Purdy — was announced last Saturday. They’ve had practice. About a decade ago, Ed Fitch started to accompany Salata onstage in case he needed assistance. In 2015, Melanie began announcing the picks because the trips to the draft host cities became too arduousfor her father.
Salata would watch the draft from home in Newport Beach, and of course welcome Mr. Irrelevant when he got there.
“He’s not here, but we’re still going,” Melanie Fitch said before the draft. “He built such a strong base, so we won’t lose any momentum in terms of the planning and celebration. Mr. Irrelevant will beas honorable as ever.”
Melanie wore her dad’s old jersey when she walked to the podium Saturday. In an especiallypoignant twist, the 49ers had that last pick, a pick they spenton Purdy.