Being invited to attend the NSFL draft live in person was a good sign. It must be. I'd had great conversations with a number of teams, a few of them with multiple picks in that first round. Sitting in the green room with the other prospects I chatted with those I knew from Myrtle Beach, still high on our ultimini success, and getting to know a few others who I'd faced off against. Then I counted the heads, there were more of us here than picks in the first round. Some of us were going to be disappointed.
Then the picks started rolling in, nobody surprised by the first couple of names rattled off by the commissioner. Then there was a chance I might be amongst the next few teams. There had been promising conversations with GMs during the scouting process. I was happy for deserving teammates get their names announced and get a moment to shine in the sun. But I also could see that at the bottom of the draft were a number of teams with picks all but locked in. The last team who I'd spoken do during the process with a pick were Yellowknife. The phone rang. It was a Canadian number.
Then the picks started rolling in, nobody surprised by the first couple of names rattled off by the commissioner. Then there was a chance I might be amongst the next few teams. There had been promising conversations with GMs during the scouting process. I was happy for deserving teammates get their names announced and get a moment to shine in the sun. But I also could see that at the bottom of the draft were a number of teams with picks all but locked in. The last team who I'd spoken do during the process with a pick were Yellowknife. The phone rang. It was a Canadian number.
![[Image: TintedWaryEsok-size_restricted.gif]](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/TintedWaryEsok-size_restricted.gif)
