The NFL draft is about five weeks away and, while it may not mean a hunk of unleavened bread to many of you since the Judases decamped from our table in January without paying the check, it does to some around here.
It does to me.
Always has, especially from that day in 1983 when I arose at 2 a.m. to cover my first one, anxious to see what the J’s would do with their three first-round picks (which hardly were wasted, but, sadly, not used to procure John Elway).
So I continue to pay attention to the lottery.