Draft Day
I never expected to be that guy who would have a draft night party. I never fantasized that Iâd be sitting in Radio City Music Hall surrounded by cameras, while Mel Kiper chatted with Boomer on ESPN about how I was the best player available or discuss the #Jets latest draft blunder. The fact is, I wasnât highly recruited out of high school and I played my college ball in a conference known for its academics, not its athletics. I wasnât even the best player on the Brown Bears when we won the Ivy League Championship in 2008. Iâve always had confidence in my ability, but it seemed that confidence was only shared by a small circle of family, friends, and coaches.
But in April 2009, there we were, the Cloherty Clan and friends, at my brother Tylerâs one bedroom basement apartment in Boston watching round after mind-numbing round, hoping for that magic moment when NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell would stride to the podium and say, âwith the X pick in X round, the Washington Redskins select Colin Cloherty, Tight End, Brown University.â (Cue the wild applause from Redskins fans while my agent and I channel House of Pain and Jump Around.
After months of working and waiting, the day had finally arrived. The 2009 NFL Draft began on April 25th. Roger Goodell announce that the Lions drafted Matt Stafford and a slew of other first rounders that you know and love or you wish you could forget. Most of these collegiate studs are in crisp new suits sitting and about to sign contracts with millions guaranteed. Must be nice.
(Roger Goodell with Matt âI didnât play beer pong on my Draft Dayâ Stafford)
When the Draft started on Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at a friendâs house at Brown, trying in vain to focus on anything but the draft. Running conversations touched on who went where and what that might mean for me or the teamâs upcoming season. Everyone cracked open a beer and discussed how their team got better. Remember the draft used to be two days. Rounds 1-3 on Saturday and Rounds 4-7 on Sunday. I couldnât wait for day two.
Sunday, I woke up early and drove to my brotherâs apartment. My parents flew up and met me there. I also had some friends from Brown come up to celebrate after I got draft. It was a little party. Chips and Dip. Music. Even a beer pong set up out back. The back up anchors ESPN anchors (its day two remember) announced pick after pick while I waited.
âThe Redskins are going to call any minute nowâ I kept telling myself. Over the past few weeks, Skins Tight Ends coach Scott Wachenheim called me a few times and told me to âbe readyâ Sunday afternoon and to âstay close to my phoneâ during the late rounds. They had a couple back up phone numbers in case they couldnât reach my cell phone -- I still had a flip phone. The iFlip ((C) Moss). I grew up as a Skins fan and had an autographed Art Monk picture in my bedroom right next to a faux-Redskins locker. I wore my #47 Chris Cooley jerseys on Sundays while they were usually losing.Â
(Cooley sporting some Daisy Dukes)
Cooley was my favorite player not just because he was one of the main offensive targets for the Burgundy and Gold, but because I modeled my game after his. Now I had a change to learn from him up close and emulate the Pro Bowler. But back to the party.
Partygoers unfamiliar with the draft (or my prospects) were starting to wonder if I was going to get drafted at all. For that matter, so did I. Maybe I shouldnât have had the stupid effing party anyway. What a mistake. This will be pretty embarrassing. I ate too many chips and canât stand listening to one more person get picked ahead of me. Iâm getting too wound up.Â
Time for beer pong. After a couple games I forgot all about the draft and relaxed -- never say mindless competitive drinking games never helped anyone. I seriously doubt Matt Stafford was throwing balls in cups on his draft day. Periodically, I checked in on the draft. Nothing seemed to be happening. I talked to my agent, Brooks Henderson, and he didnât have a whole lot of information for me. Instead of playing the waiting game, I went back to playing the drinking game.
âWith the 13th pick in the 7th Round, the Washington Redskins select: Eddie Williams, Tight End, Idaho State.â
I was crushed. Immediately, I knew that the Redskins drafted the 6 foot 2, 240 pound Williams instead of me. Plus, what a buzz kill at the party. We all sat around with out much talking. Everyone knew, or was figuring out pretty quickly, that my prospects just turned south. Then Ryan Succop had his name call. Mr. Irrelevant. The draft was over.
I canât tell you how jealous I was of Mr. Irrelevant (Succop). He had a chance to make the League. I just sat there, with a group of friends and family who had driven and flown all the way to the party, empty. I got some pats on the back --Â âits amazing that you even had a change to get draftedâ --Â âyou should be proud for making it this far.â They were trying to help. I wasnât ready for the help yet.
My agent called and told me to be ready because thatâs when the feeding frenzy starts. In the minutes after the draft ends, every team reaches out to undrafted players and offers them a try out or an undrafted free agent contract. According to Brooks, things could happen pretty fast.
But they didnât. After five long minutes, Coach Wachenheim popped up on my caller ID. He wanted me to try out next weekend with the Skins at rookie minicamp. I had three days to beat out their draft pick, and if I did I could stick around for training camp. I quickly told my agent about the offer. It was better than nothing, but it was pretty far from a guarantee that I would be on the team for longer than 3 days. They obviously liked Williams more to begin with if they drafted him. This would be tough sledding. We waited a few more minutes for other teams we talked to before the draft, like the Eagle, Saints, or Cardinals, to call. Ten more minutes passed.
A full 25 minutes after the Redskins called me and 30 minutes after the draft ended, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it off the coffee table and ran into my brotherâs bedroom for some privacy. A three one seven area code.
âHi this is Colinâ
âHi Colin, this is Ryan Cavanaugh from the Indianapolis Colts. How would you like to catch passes from Peyton Manning?â










