Rookies face reality:
They are used to being elite, but the NFL can quickly humble players thrust into spotlight.
❚ Rashan Gary, Daniel Jones embrace big expectations, Pages 21-22
Welcome to the NFL, rookies. Or something like that.
As rookie minicamps across the league were held last weekend, I’m compelled to weigh in as an observer who has witnessed the NFL arrivals and departures of hundreds over the years.
First off, as you sit in your team meeting, take a look at the rookie on your left … and then have a glance at the rookie to your right. Statistically speaking, two of you (no, Kyler Murray, this doesn’t apply to you) won’t be there next year.
That’s as good a fact-of-NFL-life barometer as any.
Have you seen the turnover rate? It’s the bottom third of the roster. In the salary cap era, teams typically recycle backup players and special-teamers like used paper bags. There’s a reason the length of an average NFL career is around three years — and it’s not Drew Brees, the resilient Saints quarterback, 40, heading into NFL Year 19.
So heed the words of Jerry Glanville, who famously declared the NFL stands for, “Not For Long.”
Sure, talent is a great separator. Yet when the talent fades, you’ll quickly find that in some ways you were nothing more than a number. You can only be so sentimental.
During the combine, I asked a few prospects if they worried about long-term issues that might stem from head trauma. They weren’t sweating it. Like many before them, they insisted they knew what they were signing up for. I’ve often run into retired players, hobbling because of old injuries, insist they’d do it all over again.
Timing has it that you’ve come to the league with additional uncertainty related to a possible labor battle between the NFL Players Association and owners. The last time, in 2011, the players were locked out for an entire offseason before a collective bargaining agreement was struck. Next time, the work stoppage could be even uglier. So brace (and save) for that.
Meanwhile, take care of that body. James Harrison, who had enough gas to run 100 yards with an interception-return touchdown in Super Bowl XLIII, used to spend $300,000 a year on various specialists to train and maintain his body. Yes, it was a tax write-off. And Harrison, who entered the league as an undrafted free agent and was cut multiple times before getting on the track to become the Steelers’ all-time sack artist, played 15 NFL seasons.
I used to marvel at Jerry Rice, the NFL’s all-time leading receiver, who played 20 seasons. Rice was an undeniable fitness buff whose regimen included running up hills.
And in 49ers practices, he and Roger Craig had the habit of running out every single play to the end zone, even simple slant routes, to condition themselves physically and mentally.
Yet something Rice once told me also left an impression. He maintained that he didn’t have a dime left from his first NFL contract (probably a four-year rookie deal), because he trusted the wrong person to handle finances.Rice had a long career and was able to make up for early losses.
There are too many cases, though, where poor financial management and bad advice have left players who have seemingly struck it rich holding the bag.
Keyshawn Johnson, picked No. 1 overall in 1996 and now the co-founder of a sports agency, once warned that the type of ego that can fuel success on the field can ruin a financial portfolio. Too many, Johnson explained, took on undue risks while seeking investment home runs rather than safer, more conservative gains.
Now that preparations are in full swing to learn the playbook, remember this: It doesn’t matter now where, or if, you were drafted. Yes, it will affect the size of your rookie contract. And the higher picks will get more favorable practice reps.
For the long haul (and the second contract), draft status won’t define you.
Tom Brady is the best example. He was a sixth-round pick. Just like Antonio Brown. Rice was the third receiver drafted in 1985, 16th overall.
No, Dwayne Haskins, the Ohio State quarterback snagged 15th overall by Washington, should only feel somewhat slighted that the Giants picked Duke quarterback Daniel Jones with the sixth pick. I mean, Dan Marino was drafted 27th overall, Aaron Rodgers was 24th … and Joe Montana was a third-rounder.
Then again, Josh Rosen was a top-10 pick last year. Now he’s in Miami, already working under his fourth different offensive coordinator (Chad O’Shea) in a year. Talk about adapting to change. At least the trade from Arizona leaves Rosen to work with a respected quarterbacks guru, Jim Caldwell.
He knows better now: Nothing is a given in the NFL.