HITCH ‘N’ GO: How seasoned vets are handling NFL
Created in the early 1970's, the Wonderlic is an intelligence measuring stick used by coaches to determine the cognitive ability of players soon to receive multimillion dollar contracts.
By RANDY SETTERBERG
The Trucker News Services
10/9/2008
Every February, hundreds of NFL prospects gather at a previously undisclosed location to take part in a pre-draft ritual. No, it’s not the annual all-night Hooter’s festival (that comes later). Approximately eight weeks before many childhood dreams are finally realized, NFL draft hopefuls dedicate 12 minutes to take a 50-question, multiple-choice test known as the Wonderlic. Created in the early 1970's, the Wonderlic is an intelligence measuring stick used by coaches to determine the cognitive ability of players soon to receive multimillion dollar contracts. That’s fair; after all, if a team is about to invest the equivalent of the GNP of a small foreign nation into a twenty-something who has never played a down of professional football, they have a right to know if he’s got the brains to pour panther pee out of a rain boot.
And that’s just about the threshold. Examples of some common questions are: (a) What is the ninth month of the year? (b) How many prime numbers are there from 1 to 21? (c) If I’m driving 20 miles per hour, and I’ve been driving for three hours, how many miles have I driven? Ya know, inquiries that stretch the mental boundaries of the Einstein crowd. The questions progress in difficulty — how, I’m not quite sure — and the average score is usually around 16. Coaches like to have quarterbacks score a 20 or better. Makes sense; if a guy is going to run your offense, it helps if his intellectual capabilities are superior to those of the grunts lined up on the opposite side of the ball. Former #1 overall pick, quarterback Alex Smith of San Francisco, scored a 40. Denver quarterback Jay Cutler attained a 26, and Arizona quarterback Matt Leinart notched a 35. Of the 26 quarterbacks selected who had taken the Wonderlic prior to the 2006 draft, the average score was 23.5. So far, so good.
That is, until Vince Young took a seat at the thinker’s table. The quarterback of the 2005 national champion Texas Longhorns set higher education back half-a-century by scoring a whopping 6 on the exam. Wonderlic, Inc. claims that a score of 10 suggests a person is literate. Needless to say more than a few eyebrows were raised, and potential employers began to rethink their first-round draft strategy. The safety net in place is that draftees can take the Wonderlic as many times as they like prior to the draft, and record their highest score. Most agents prep their clients with practice exams before taking the actual test, thus reflecting an accurate score from the one-time test taker. Regardless of Young’s lack of preparation, you’d like to think a future franchise player would be able to Sesame Street himself through the exam enough to outscore his shoe size from the get-go.
As it turned out, Young’s draft status was not affected. After much reflection, the Titans chose Young’s athletic ability and upside over Leinart’s cerebral adeptness. But Young’s NFL duration hasn’t been without mental lapses. He’s thrown a right punch at his own teammate’s helmet-covered head in training camp. He was photographed shirtless with vodka bottle in hand, surrounded by less-than-reputable company. And he’s been quoted by various sources professing an interest in giving up the game he loves. At times, he acts as if he’s not just looking to create controversy but rather to exploit it. Moreover, after a promising rookie campaign, he regressed in his sophomore season by tossing almost twice as many interceptions (17) as touchdowns (9).
For the record, former Cincinnati Bengal Pat McInally is the only collegiate draftee to ever score a perfect 50 on the Wonderlic. Selected in the 5th round of the 1975 draft primarily as a punter (he also played some wide receiver), McInally was actually ostracized by his teammates, who referred to him as the “intellectual annuity.” It got to the point where McInally would hide his hardback reading books for fear of further scrutiny. No surprise, McInally went to Harvard.
So Vince Young has to modify some very destructive behavior. Like quit leading with your throwing hand to the helmet of a fully-uniformed opponent. Stop appearing shirtless with a posse of liquored-up malcontents in a room full of picture phones. But most importantly, stay clear of intelligence tests designed to make the brainless appear even more stupid. And if I’m Young’s teammate, I can promise you this: until he learns how to punt, I’m keeping my rain boots on.
Sugar Ray Smith
On the second day of training camp, WR Steve Smith of the Carolina Panthers was sent packing. Just prior to his departure, CB Ken Lucas was seen packing a block of ice to his swollen face. The two players were taking a break alongside one another when suddenly a vertical Smith threw an unchallenged right cross that landed squarely to the nose of Lucas, who was resting on one knee. A scuffle ensued, and the men were quickly separated by their teammates.
If this scenario sounds familiar, it should. Smith is a pro football assault and battery sucker-punch recidivist; an “Anger Management” program graduate who obviously took to heart lessons learned from his prior actions. Six years ago, former teammate Anthony Bright was the recipient of an unprovoked aerial attack from Smith’s flying fists--in a film room, no less. Bright was hospitalized for two nights and subsequently filed an incident report with the Charlotte-Mecklenburg police department. Smith earned jail time for his efforts, and a lawsuit filed by Bright was later settled out of court.
Smith made a half-hearted attempt to take responsibility for his most recent maniacal meltdown, publicly calling his conduct “asinine.” But he’s attached more spin to his behavior than a top on a turntable. His twisted perspective spotlights him as the consummate victim. “I’m a fallen man,” said Smith. “But I will not allow this moment in the book of life to define me, despite what people may write or say.” No need to, Steve. You’ve got a well-documented history of enraged exhibitionism, demonstrated by poorly timed penalties, indignant outbursts, and in-your-face opponent trash-talking. I’d say this latest chapter in your book of life not only defines you, but further cements your biographical legacy as one of sports all time cheap-shot artists.
As for Lucas, he has turned the other cheek. His broken nose notwithstanding, Lucas has completely forgiven Smith. Lucas is a devout Christian who explains it would be hypocritical of him to continue with his weekly Bible school if he didn’t fully forgive Smith. As for the team, Carolina players say the incident has been put behind them, and the upshot of the altercation will actually bring the franchise closer together. That makes for great print, but a quick reality check shows otherwise. Head coach John Fox is under tremendous pressure to get Carolina back to the post season, and an episode such as this shows a blatant lack of managerial discipline and control over his players. Current GM Marty Hurney was team’s GM six years ago when Smith attacked Bright, yet he authorized a contract extension for Smith last year, making the latter one of the league’s highest paid receivers. And despite Fox’s pleas of non-retaliation, a coalition of players vowed to teach Smith a lesson if the team failed to impose punishment. Luckily for Smith, he was suspended for the first two games, but the locker room is fractured, and owner Jerry Richardson cannot be pleased.
Steve Smith is a very talented yet troubled wide receiver. Using history as an indicator, it’s not a matter of if, but when his violent propensities will manifest themselves again. A two-game suspension is feel-good discipline, but additional corrective measures against Smith are in order. Ken Lucas needs to pursue legal remedies, and in a special case like this, Panther players should be permitted to police their own. I propose a cartel of Carolina players personally escort Smith on a sightseeing tour of Devil’s Island. Or anywhere else that eye witnesses are in short supply. Let the punishment fit the crime. After all, he’s more than earned it.
Philly-Sized Somber
Offensive lineman Shawn Andrews has a problem. Earlier this summer, Andrews couldn’t find his way to training camp, where the Philadelphia Eagles declared him AWOL and began docking him the allotted $15,000 per day as sanctioned under the current Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA). Teammate Jon Runyan went as far as to dismiss Andrews’ claim of personal issues as a sham, instead declaring his colleague’s nonattendance strictly a “holdout.” This expressly insinuates that Andrews is all about money and nothing about team solidarity.
As it turns out, Runyan was correct in his assessment. Not because he was prophetic, but because he perfectly vocalized to the press the exact message Andrews wanted conveyed. Shortly thereafter, Andrews came clean and admitted that he created the rumors that fostered the “holdout” and “personal issues” speculation in order to masque his true problem: clinical depression. Andrews claims that he spoke with head coach Andy Reid and described his condition in vivid detail. Apparently, the 335 lb. offensive guard enlisted the support of a mentor and sought the help of a registered psychiatrist. So after missing the first 17 days of camp, Andrews dug deep within himself and found the strength and intestinal fortitude necessary to rejoin his teammates.
Maybe Shawn Andrews was depressed. Maybe he has deep-seeded issues that require the support of a trained medical professional. But know this: one year removed from his own contract extension, Andrews witnessed peers at his position sign contracts that guaranteed anywhere from $18 million to $21 million. Suddenly his $10.5 million guarantee was dwarfed by comparison. And Andrews is locked into his current contract through 2015 which, by market standards, signifies that Andrews will have outplayed his current $40 million deal after the 2010 season. Moreover, by claiming to suffer from clinical depression, federal law prevents enforcement of corporate punishment, as long as the victim seeks documented medical assistance for his condition. Which conveniently means, of course, that the Eagles cannot enforce the very CBA that binds them, and therefore cannot collect on more than $255,000 in fines Andrews accrued while being “sick” for 17 days. $40 million for nine years worth of seasonal work. We should all be so depressed.
Randy Setterberg is a member of the Pro Football Writers of America and West Coast correspondent to the Gridiron Goose’s NFL Update. He may be reached at NFLupdate@hotmail.com.