Sidearming Steaks

I got this theory.

About pro football.

I call it "The curse of the decent quarterback."

And it goes a little something like this:

Teams that find a decent quarterback are cursed to play them for a decade, to middling success at best.

A good enough quarterback, I argue, only gives good enough results, not a ring. But they're too good to let go. So you keep them. And you never win it all.

That's my theory.

So what would I do if I were running a pro team?

Glad you asked.

I'd do weird ess like draft a QB every year, even if I think we've got a winner already.

Just stack 'em.

Have the best backup in the league. And the best 3rd string. Always.

Even draft 1st round QBs in consecutive years. Maybe three in a row. Get them rookie contracts on the cheap.

Heck, I might draft a QB in every round one year.

Or, better yet, forget drafting QBs at all.

Never waste a single draft pick on a QB.

Instead, sign those quarterbacks considered "busts" by their first teams, even second or third. Just round them all up. Treat free agency, waiver wire, and trades as your draft. And just pile 'em up.

Why not?

With that understood, then I'd focus on the offensive line. Then all defense. And lastly, the skill players.

I won't insult any QB by naming them, I think you know what I mean if you watched for any length of time. It's such an important position in today's game that you must get the decision right. And then when you do, protect it at all costs. Even if you have to keep competition flowing by bringing in their heir apparents yearly.

Have the QB feel like he's got to earn the starting role every game, because he does.

I'm not a one trick pony, though. 

I got other ideas. 

Like how we should make draft combine participants run the 40 yard dash in full gear. Helmets and pads and all.

To get a truer gauge of game speed.

You like that shee, right?

Of course, this is all just from the mind of a old(ish) flag football cornerback who just so happened to have a Rico Dynamite cannon for an arm.

But from my armchair, it's as clear as a Preston, Idaho winter sky.

Now, where's Jon Gruden when I need him?

"Coach, I got this theory..."