One year, there was a fullback that I had scouted at a Midwestern school to whom I had given a late round grade. I felt that he had the inside running ability, receiving skills, special teams production and other qualities worth taking a flyer on. However, during the pre-combine draft meetings, no matter how hard I fought to have this player kept on the board, I could not get it done — the player was 5-foot-8 and nobody wanted a fullback that short. Then came the pro day circuit, before the final draft meetings in April.
Amazingly, while none of the scouts had been there to fight for this fullback since our last meetings, he was now in play because he ran one of the fastest times for any running back at the combine. Although I was happy to see him on the board, it made me question if the team really knew what they were doing. Player should not move up the ranks so quickly just because they ran a great forty at the combine.
Another year, on draft day, my team’s second round target was one pick away, so we called the player up — but then things took a strange turn. Our head coach asked the scouts if we were sure about the pick. One veteran scout, who in my eyes is an outstanding evaluator, showed courage and said there was a player he would take over him. Thus, without any further debate, we told the player on the phone we were not selecting him, and instead selected the other guy our veteran scout wanted. We were fortunate when our pick came up in the third round that the player we had been on the phone with was still available and we ended up selecting him, but this raised a major concern. Why did we spend so much time meeting and setting our draft board when one scout could overrule the rest just like that? Unfortunately, although both players played in the league long enough to get their pensions, neither developed into a frontline NFL starter.