Anyway, back to football and a nice behind-the-scenes glimpse:
9:05 p.m.
“The next four picks are crucial,” Snead said, huddling with Fisher and Demoff in their seats at the front of the room as linebacker Jarvis Jones went off the board to Pittsburgh at 17.
The Rams sat at 22. They wanted Ogletree and were reasonably confident he’d be there. But they’d been talking with Houston at 27 and Atlanta at 30 about moving down to recoup some of what they’d given up to acquire Austin. Their fallback guy was UCLA defensive end Datone Jones, but if he and Ogletree were gone, they’d take Kentucky guard Larry Warford. As bravely as they spoke about Warford, though, picking him in the first round would amount to a big loss for the Rams.
Demoff laid out the options. “We can go to 30 and get a three and a seven from Atlanta, or we can go to 27 and get a four and a six from Houston.”
“Or we can stay and just pick Ogletree,” Snead chimed in.
Fisher went for a walk and rubbed his lucky 1901 $20 gold coin, a gift from his grandmother years ago that he’d brought out at every draft.
Snead, meanwhile, made a call. He and Ogletree share an agent, Pat Dye Jr., and at this moment Dye was sitting at a draft party in Atlanta with Ogletree and his family. Snead asked Dye what he’d heard. “You better not get cute,” Dye replied, “or you’ll lose him. If I’d said you could get Alec at 22 a month ago, you’d have kissed me on the mouth. Just take him!”
The 49ers traded up to 18 for LSU safety Eric Reid. The Giants took Syracuse tackle Justin Pugh. And then the Rams sweated out the linebacker-needy Bears. Consoli announced Oregon guard Kyle Long to Chicago, and the draft room went, Ooooooooooh.
9:18 p.m.
One of the biggest misconceptions outside of NFL draft rooms is that the people inside of draft rooms are omniscient, that they have a great feel for other teams’ moves. The lone three-by-five-inch magnetic player card left on the top line of the Rams’ board was Ogletree’s, and all Snead, Fisher and Demoff had to go on now was a gut feeling that he had a chance to slip to No. 27 or 30. On the board Ogletree’s card bore a yellow dot and sat slanted along the top line. “Yellow means caution,” Snead said, and slanted meant there was still some doubt that he was a wise risk to take. Ogletree had a positive drug test (marijuana) and a DUI on his resume. There was a chance he would slip.
Consoli: “Cincinnati takes … Tyler Eifert … tight end … Notre Dame. We’re on the clock.”
Houston called to bow out. If the Rams wanted to trade, they had one option, Atlanta at 30. Snead rang Dimitroff. “T,” he asked, “we still on?” The Falcons wanted a future seventh-rounder to clinch the deal, and the Rams had an extra one in 2015 from a trade with New England. Snead okayed it. Now the two teams, St. Louis and Atlanta, had to decide whether to go through with it.
Consoli: “Eight minutes.”
Fisher massaged his 1901 coin. The Falcons were thinking. And thinking.
“Time?” Fisher asked.
Consoli: “Five minutes.”
The phone rang. The Ravens, at No. 32, were feeling out the Rams about moving up if St. Louis traded down. Call you back. There was a palpable but unspoken sense in the room. Take Ogletree here. Don’t risk the trade. We can handle him! We handled Janoris Jenkins!
Fisher and Snead exchanged a look-they agreed that waiting was a gamble worth taking-but amazingly said nothing. Two days earlier they’d decided that if they got this far, like Thelma and Louise they were going off the cliff. Snead dialed Dimitroff’s cell. “T, it’s yours. Who you taking?” A pause and he hung up.
Snead, to the room: “Atlanta … Desmond Trufant.”
Fisher: “We got 30.”
Demoff called in the trade. This time there was no cheering.
“We’ll get one of our guys,” Fisher said, working the gold coin, “or we’ll trade again.”
“Now,” Snead said, “Alec’s sitting in Pat Dye’s living room, and he’ll see us trade down. And if we pick him, he’ll come in with a massive chip on his shoulder.”
9:43 p.m.
There were seven selections to go-Minnesota, Indianapolis, Minnesota again, Green Bay, Houston, Denver and, lastly, New England.
The Ravens called back offering a fifth-rounder to switch spots from 32 to 30. Dallas owned the 31st pick, and Snead asked his pro personnel czar, Ran Carthon, to run down the Cowboys’ linebackers to see if they were a threat for Ogletree. Meanwhile, Demoff worked the phone, “scenario-shopping” with teams positioned high in round 2. “You have any interest in coming up to 30?” he asked Eagles G.M. Howie Roseman, preparing to trade if Ogletree was off the board at 30.
Sharrif Floyd to the Vikes. Bjoern Werner to the Colts. Xavier Rhodes to the Vikes.
Consoli: “Green Bay takes … Datone Jones … defensive end … UCLA.” Then silence. Fisher, speechless, stood up and stared at the board, still working the 112-year-old gold piece. Wasn’t that supposed to be a lucky coin? Now it was Ogletree at 30 or bust. Oh, the Rams would talk bravely about what a good player Larry Warford is-but convincing their own defensive coaches would be much tougher.
“Want me to offer Houston a [sixth-round pick] to move down to us?” Demoff asked. Fisher grabbed the phone instead and dialed Texans G.M. Rick Smith, who was on the clock.
“Hey, you staying?” he asked. “Would you go to us for 198 [the Rams’ sixth-rounder]?”
Evidently not. Fisher, off the phone, told Snead, “They want 113.” No way the Rams were giving up a fourth-rounder to climb three spots. Minutes passed.
Consoli: “Houston takes … DeAndre Hopkins … receiver … Clemson.”
The Broncos on the clock at 28. “Ran, give me Denver’s linebackers,” Snead called out, and Carthon went into detail about players and contracts. Snead got on the phone. Whom he called, he wouldn’t say, but with five minutes left he huddled with Fisher and Demoff. Quietly, he said, “Denver’s deciding between,” and he wrote in pencil on a Post-it: LACY WILLIAMS OGLETREE.
Alabama running back Eddie Lacy. North Carolina defensive tackle Sylvester Williams. And Alec Ogletree. “They just signed Wesley Woodyard to play [weakside linebacker],” Snead said. “I can’t see them taking Ogletree.”
“But,” one scout said, “Ogletree was in Denver on the last day for visits.” No one else spoke.
10:13 p.m.
Consoli: “Denver takes Sylvester Williams … defensive tackle … North Carolina.”
Cheers-but not wild ones-and the first smile from Fisher in two hours. He tossed the coin on the table. “I bring it out once a year for the draft,” he said. "For luck. Maybe… " Demoff held his fist out for a bump, but Fisher shook his head. Not yet. Not yet.
Another call: Vikings G.M. Rick Spielman ringing Demoff, and the conversation went quickly before Demoff hung up. “They’ll give us their two, three and four for 30,” he said.
Snead: “No, no…”
Fisher: “No more screwing around now.”
Two, three, four minutes passed. The 29th pick, New England’s, was being auctioned.
Consoli: “Minnesota has traded into this pick.”
“Gotta be Manti Te’o,” said Snead.
Nope. A minute passed. Then two. Consoli: “Minnesota takes … Cordarrelle Patterson…” The rest of it, you couldn’t hear. There was too much screaming…
(source: Peter King, SI)
