My NFL Combine Report Card [1995]
[Substack Exclusive!]
[This week marks the annual rite of passage for many hopeful collegiate athletes looking to make it in the NFL—the NFL Combine. Held in Indianapolis, IN each year, it gives players a chance to show who they are and what they can do. They’re measured on a variety of things from hand size to broad jump distance to speed in the “three-cone drill,” which, sadly, has nothing to do with ice cream. Though I’m a writer now, back in my youth, I was quite the accomplished athlete. My feats on my feets earned me an invite to the Combine lo those many years ago. I ran and jumped and cut and weaved and duked and vomited in my shorts for six hours that day in front of every front office employee from every team you could imagine. Though notes from each team varied, I recently found this one report card from one of the teams (hint: it was the Raiders) as I dug through some memories and thought I’d post it as this week’s Substack. Reading it again made me wonder just what might have been if I pursued that path. Enjoy!]
Name: Andrew Wasif
Nickname: “Stinkbug”
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 165 (wiry)
Hand size: 7 1/4”
Hat size: 7 1/4”
Reach: 30”
Vertical Jump: -2 in. (??)
Broad Jump: 47.5 in.
40-yard dash: eventually
Three-cone drill: [incomplete]
Pros: Wasif knows the game. A heady player who rarely gets caught with his pants down. Exceptional counting skills. Regularly found with his nose in the playbook.
Cons: Undersized with short arms. Tight hips. Below below average lateral quickness. Possesses an aversion to tight spaces. Numerous food allergies which somehow translate to the field. Tendency to break into song. Low attention span. Has a low motor which stalls. Injury-prone. Fear of intimacy. Plays with an edge, though it’s more a dull edge, like an elliptical shape. Too slow off the line. Too slow onto the line. Has, in fact, been caught with his pants down on two separate occasions. Trouble with the uniform. Only slightly below average at holding a straight line at the buffet table. Takes slapstick humor too far. Doesn’t take absurdist humor far enough. Susceptible to double-teams. Also falls for Internet scams. Has trouble shedding blockers and screams for his “emotional support mascot.” Too friendly with tackling sled. Gets drowsy after peanut butter sandwiches. Small bladder requires frequent trips to the locker room. Can’t go left. Won’t go right. Indecisive. Struggles with spandex. Shies away from contact. Prone to fumbles. Superstitious to a fault. Very religious as he always seems to be praying during game action. Gets bogged down rewriting plays in the huddle causing delay of game penalties. Often plays possum to avoid involvement. Looks forward to weather events for practice cancelation. Constantly over his credit limit. Too dependent on teammates to remain upright. Regularly found asleep with his nose in the playbook.
Best Fit: one of those seat cushions spectators use on cold days