Good morning and good start to what I assume is the work week for most of us.

I spent Sunday climbing Mt. Everett in Massachusetts, which involves 2+ hours of driving, climbing up Race Brook Falls, in some cases off the now-official trail, (because it was “too dangerous” or some namely-pamby bullshit) (actually I think it was erosion), because I’m one of the few that still knows where it goes, and an overall 9.5 miles (according to my phone, which may be prone to exaggeration), although at least some of that is attributed to me having to walk farther than usual to the post-hike bar.

Then I took the dog for a walk, (he didn’t come on the hike because he is a miserable presence in the car, and this trail would have been far too steep for him, and also I couldn’t go to a bar afterwards and not come back to car full of dog shit), and I have (allegedly), walked 12.3 miles today.

What does this have to do with this morning’s draft?  Nothing.  I’m just padding the word count because it’s late, my feet hurt, and all I want to do is drink this 9% beer

and stare at the TV.  But the #content monster must be fed, so here we go.

A couple of weeks ago we had a lot of fun with offensive linemen.  Last week we had even more fun with 80’s bands.  I did think about doing 90’s bands today, but as fate would have it on my ride to the mountain, (2,602′ tall; ‘mountain’ is doing a lot of work here), the one station I could consistently get was doing a 90’s weekend and I quickly realized that 90’s music sucked and that I wasn’t going to do a draft that had even the slightest chance of making Fred Durst relevant.  Fuck that.

So we’re going to go back and finish our offensive lines.  If they played TE in the NFL they’re eligible.  That’s it.  Take as many or as few as you want, but wait 10 picks or 30 minutes between each pick.

With my first pick I’m going outside the box and taking a notable TE, but not all-time great, (at least as modern standards change the position), Giants TE Mark Bavaro.

Here’s why.

Years ago my mother, a blissfully naive person in many ways, was at a fundraiser at which Mark Bavaro was speaking.  Mom knew nothing about football and probably cared even less.  My father, to the extent he rooted for football, (as I may have mentioned the Cornblower household is a baseball household), and he knew who Bavaro was and that he was very good.  Which he told my mother.

Mom is impressed by Mr. Bavaro’s speech, (I think it had something to do with the Holy Mother Church of Rome, which at the time was a big deal for Mom, and apparently for Mark Bavaro as well), and went up to say that.  She introduced herself and then says “My husband says you’re a great tight end.”  Bavaro looked at her for a moment, no one yelled anything about phrasing, and then he simply said “tell your husband he’s right” before continuing what I’m told was a pleasant conversation having nothing to do with football.

Good enough to make him #1 for me.  The rest of you are on the clock.