It’s almost here! It’s almost here!

I don’t have any rational basis for excitement and yet I’m almost herniated by delight!

As previously discussed by Horatio, Hippo and everyone else not financially tied to the Draft Industrial Complex, it’s objectively a very “meh” draft. Like that Christmas when Mom lost her job, Dad was pulling extra shifts and Older Sister was contemplating bangs, there’s not a lot of joy anticipated for teams reaching beneath the Prospect Tree.

The headline issue is obviously the quarterback situation. One Anonymous League Source said if last year’s quarterbacks were in this year’s draft, presumptive top pick Cam Ward would have been sixth off the board. While I distrust anonymous quotes, this resonates with what little tape I’ve seen. It’s a bad year when you can reasonably ask “Will the overall #1 pick be better than Will Levis?”

Sorry DonT.

And pity the Giants’ marketing team tasked with getting the Tri State Area hyped about Tyler Shough; maybe they can get Nü Brandon Weeden an endorsement deal with Metamucil.

But even the other positions are bereft of Pure Excitement players. There are a bunch of edge rushers who might be good, but even Abdul Carter doesn’t strike me as a Destroyer of Men.

The best wide receiver is likely a cornerback, and the best cornerback may be a wide receiver, and in either case he will get Bo Jackson’d first week of minicamp. And in Cleveland too, to add insult to horrific crippling injury.

And don’t talk to me about Ashton Jeanty.  Bijan Robinson-ass bitch. Christian McCaffrey punk. Great player, could be The Final Piece for a good team. But no one picking in the top 10 is One Piece away, and any team smart enough to be One Piece Away didn’t get there by being stupid enough to trade up into the top 10 for a running back.

Make no mistake: there will be stars. The Offensive Rookie of the Year will make amazing plays. The Defensive Rookie of the Year will bury a quarterback so far into the turf that FedEx Field will show the divot. But the guys who win those awards are as likely to be drafted at 44 as at 4. A deep class at relatively unsexy positions should be celebrated as a concept, but it makes for shit TV.

Nevertheless, I will watch. I will scootch forward on my seat when the Pick is In chime sounds for some schmuck AFC South team like it was white smoke coming out of the Sistine Chapel. I will stay up until past midnight to catch the near-certain spectacle of the Bills trading down out of the first round.

Because the draft is Hope. And we all kind of need that right now.