Draft night was an extremely nerve-wracking night for Vance Slattery. He was projected by many analysts to be taken within the first three rounds - he was an All-American and the career sacks leader for the Golden Gophers, after all - so he told all of his friends and family to come over and celebrate.
Then the unthinkable happened. First round goes by, "it's okay, nose tackles are undervalued in the league right now. I get it."
Second round flies by without a sniff of Slattery being taken, "drafts are just a popularity contest."
Third round. Fourth round. Fifth round. All of them pass by and Slattery, a monster on the field who compiled a modest 136 TPE before the draft is still sitting on the board.
Then, the sixth round begins. Vance was about to give up hope. "Maybe I'm just not good enough," he thinks to himself. Finally, with the fourth pick in the round, Vance is finally selected. He jumps out of his chair in excitement. That excitement, however, is tempered, when he realizes who picked him - the Tijuana Luchadores.
Now, Vance had nothing against the Luchadores. In fact, he was quite a big fan of theirs and has a secret love of professional wrestling. However, Vance is a midwestern kid whose parents own a soul food restaurant. The only kind of food he's been eating his whole life is relatively low on spice and mostly fried. Soon as he heard, "Tijuana" he started to feel a rumble in his tummy.
Fast forward a few days. Vance's plane touches down in Tijuana and, like always, he's hungry. Luckily for him, there's a taco stand right outside the gate. He waddles up and orders some food - he didn't recognize most of it, just that it smelled good. Vance inhaled the food. He might not even have tasted it as he ingested it. "Okay, so the food here is pretty good," he thinks to himself. "I don't know what I was worried about."
During the car ride to the Luchadores facility, however, Vance's life changed forever. Sitting in the backseat, his stomach makes a sound the likes of which he'd never heard before, and is immediately followed by what can only be described as a bellow from his backside. It takes a few seconds, but eventually the entire car is filled with the most ghastly of smells. "What the F*** it smells like a rotting mouse mixed with taco seasoning!!!!" yells his driver. This is quickly followed by coughing. Then comes the gagging. "Oh... oh no..." says the driver, as he fights back the urge to vomit. It was a fight he could not win, however, as he spews all over the dash.
In his panic, the driver loses control and swerves off the road and into the ditch. It took them 35 minutes to get the car pulled out of the ditch and cleaned up. They then had to complete the drive in the 110 degree heat with the windows down.
And that, my friends, is the story of Vance Slattery's first day in Tijuana.
Then the unthinkable happened. First round goes by, "it's okay, nose tackles are undervalued in the league right now. I get it."
Second round flies by without a sniff of Slattery being taken, "drafts are just a popularity contest."
Third round. Fourth round. Fifth round. All of them pass by and Slattery, a monster on the field who compiled a modest 136 TPE before the draft is still sitting on the board.
Then, the sixth round begins. Vance was about to give up hope. "Maybe I'm just not good enough," he thinks to himself. Finally, with the fourth pick in the round, Vance is finally selected. He jumps out of his chair in excitement. That excitement, however, is tempered, when he realizes who picked him - the Tijuana Luchadores.
Now, Vance had nothing against the Luchadores. In fact, he was quite a big fan of theirs and has a secret love of professional wrestling. However, Vance is a midwestern kid whose parents own a soul food restaurant. The only kind of food he's been eating his whole life is relatively low on spice and mostly fried. Soon as he heard, "Tijuana" he started to feel a rumble in his tummy.
Fast forward a few days. Vance's plane touches down in Tijuana and, like always, he's hungry. Luckily for him, there's a taco stand right outside the gate. He waddles up and orders some food - he didn't recognize most of it, just that it smelled good. Vance inhaled the food. He might not even have tasted it as he ingested it. "Okay, so the food here is pretty good," he thinks to himself. "I don't know what I was worried about."
During the car ride to the Luchadores facility, however, Vance's life changed forever. Sitting in the backseat, his stomach makes a sound the likes of which he'd never heard before, and is immediately followed by what can only be described as a bellow from his backside. It takes a few seconds, but eventually the entire car is filled with the most ghastly of smells. "What the F*** it smells like a rotting mouse mixed with taco seasoning!!!!" yells his driver. This is quickly followed by coughing. Then comes the gagging. "Oh... oh no..." says the driver, as he fights back the urge to vomit. It was a fight he could not win, however, as he spews all over the dash.
In his panic, the driver loses control and swerves off the road and into the ditch. It took them 35 minutes to get the car pulled out of the ditch and cleaned up. They then had to complete the drive in the 110 degree heat with the windows down.
And that, my friends, is the story of Vance Slattery's first day in Tijuana.
