[12:04 PM, 15th April 2000, Tigers HQ, Hofstra University, Hempstead, N.Y]
The phone labelled TRADES line rang again. Thomas Dimitroff lunged for it. "Tigers front office."
He listened for a moment, his eyebrows rising. "Hold please." He covered the receiver, looking at Nathan. "It's Cincinnati. They want to move up to thirteen. Offering seventeen, their second, and a fourth next year."
Nathan didn't hesitate. "Pass. Not enough value."
Dimitroff relayed the message and hung up. "They didn't sound surprised."
"They're fishing," Belichick said without looking up from his notes. "Seeing if we're desperate. We're not."
On screen, Washington's selection came through: LaVar Arrington, linebacker, Penn State. Another no-brainer. The freakish athlete bounded onto the stage with infectious energy, pumping his fist as the crowd roared its approval.
"Two down," Rex muttered, crossing names off his board. "Twenty-five to go in the first."
The TRADES phone rang again; Atlanta was also interested in pick thirteen. Nathan listened, made a counteroffer that was immediately rejected, and hung up. "Everyone wants to move," Nathan said, almost amused. "Nobody wants to pay market value."
Xavier watched the clock tick down. Still no word from New England. Had they passed? Were they still deliberating? Or were they waiting to see how the board fell before committing? His grandfather caught his eye across the table and gave a slight shrug.
On screen, Trueman returned to the podium. "With the third pick in the 2000 NFL Draft, the Washington Redskins select... Chris Samuels, offensive tackle, University of Alabama!"
The war room exhaled collectively as Chris Samuels' name was called. The massive offensive tackle from Alabama rose from his seat in the Green Room, his family erupting around him. Even through the television screen, his relief was palpable—the waiting was over.
"Alabama pipeline continues," Charlie Weis noted, making a mark on his board. "That's a heck of a pick for Washington; they are the definite winners of this draft trade saga. Samuels is as pro-ready as they come."
Nathan nodded absently, his attention already shifting to the next selection. "Cincinnati's on the clock. Four minutes to make our lives easier or harder."
The TRADES phone rang again. Dimitroff grabbed it. "Tigers front office... Yes, sir... Hold please." He covered the receiver. "It's Denver. They want to discuss thirteen."
"Tell them we're listening," Nathan said, moving closer to the phone bank.
Dimitroff uncovered the receiver. "Go ahead, we're interested... uh-huh... uh-huh..." His expression remained neutral, but Xavier caught the slight downturn at the corner of his mouth. Not good news.
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The line went dead. "That's five teams in ten minutes," Dimitroff said, tallying marks on his notepad. "Everyone thinks we're a candy store."
On screen, the Cincinnati Bengals' table showed activity. Their representatives were hunched together, clearly debating. The clock ticked down: 11:23... 11:22... 11:21...
"Who do we think they're taking?" Rex asked, leaning forward.
"Peter Warrick," James Harris answered immediately. "Wide receiver, Florida State. He's got character concerns from that shopping scandal, but the talent's undeniable. Cincinnati needs playmakers."
"Please take Warrick," Rex muttered under his breath. "Please take Warrick."
The clock hit 9:47 when Trueman returned to the podium. "With the fourth pick in the 2000 NFL Draft, the Cincinnati Bengals select... Peter Warrick, wide receiver, Florida State University!"
"Yes!" Rex pumped his fist, actually smiling for the first time all morning. "That's what I'm talking about!"
Nathan allowed himself a small grin. "One less receiver off the board. Baltimore's up next." The Baltimore Ravens were picking fifth, and the room knew exactly what they wanted. Xavier watched the clock reset—15:00—and felt the first real flutter of nerves.
The LEAGUE OFFICE phone rang. Nathan grabbed it before the first ring finished. "Stewart... Yes, sir... We're ready... Understood." He hung up. "League office confirming our contact information."
"Baltimore's taking Jamal Lewis," Belichick said with absolute certainty. "Running back, Tennessee. Ozzie wants to pound the rock, and Lewis is the best pure runner in this class."
Sure enough, at 12:14 remaining, Trueman announced: "With the fifth pick in the 2000 NFL Draft, the Baltimore Ravens select... Jamal Lewis, running back, University of Tennessee!"
The next drafts went on as pretty much expected:
6 Philadelphia Eagles - Corey Simon dT, Florida State
7 Arizona Cardinals - Thomas Jones rb, Virginia
8 Pittsburgh Steelers - Plaxico Burress wr, Michigan State
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The Steelers took their time, letting the clock wind down to 6:43 before Trueman returned. "With the eighth pick in the 2000 NFL Draft, the Pittsburgh Steelers select... Plaxico Burress, wide receiver, Michigan State University!"
The tall, rangy receiver from Michigan State rose, his lanky frame somehow elegant despite his size. He moved toward the stage with an easy confidence that suggested he'd always known this was his destiny.
"Burress to Pittsburgh," Weis said, shaking his head. "That's going to be a problem for someone. Kid's got rare size-speed combination."
"Not our problem right now," Belichick said. "Chicago's up. They're going defensive end or linebacker."
The Chicago Bears' table showed unusual activity—phones ringing, multiple conversations happening simultaneously. The clock ticked down: 13:27... 13:26... 13:25...
"They're thinking," Rex observed. "That's never good."
"They might go off-script," Nathan announced to the room. "Everyone, stay sharp."
The clock hit 8:15 when something changed. The Bears' representatives suddenly stopped talking, nodded in unison, and signalled to the league official at their table. Within seconds, their selection card was being rushed to the podium.
Trueman opened the envelope, and for just a fraction of a second, his eyebrows rose. "With the ninth pick in the 2000 NFL Draft," Trueman announced, "the Chicago Bears select... Shaun Ellis, defensive end, University of Tennessee!"
The war room went dead silent. "What?" Rex said, his voice flat with disbelief.
"They took Ellis," Nathan said slowly, as if saying it out loud would make it make sense. "They took our defensive end."
Xavier felt his stomach drop. Shaun Ellis had been pencilled in as their target at twelve a versatile defensive end who could rush the passer and set the edge—a perfect fit for Rex's scheme. And Chicago, who'd been expected to go linebacker or secondary, had just sniped him.
"Someone tipped them," Harris said quietly. "Or they just got smart."
Belichick's expression didn't change, but his fingers drummed once against the table—the only outward sign of frustration. "We adjust."
Nathan was already moving, pulling out his backup boards, shuffling through contingency plans they'd prepared for exactly this scenario. "Alright, people. Ellis is gone. What's our next-best defensive end option?"
"John Abraham was plan B, right?" Crennel said immediately. "South Carolina. Pure pass rusher. Not as strong against the run, but he can get to the quarterback."
"Hugh Douglas types," Rex added. "All speed, all motor. I can work with that."
"He won't last to eighteen," Belichick said. "If we want him, we take him at thirteen."
Nathan nodded, already recalculating. "What about Urlacher? Is something wrong with him, because I don't understand why he is still on the board?"
The room paused. Brian Urlacher—the linebacker from New Mexico—had been on their board as a top ten pick. Freakish athleticism, instincts, and range that defied his size. But they never imagined he would drop beyond ten, so he had been written off as they'd planned on addressing the defensive line first.
"Urlacher's special," Bob Sutton said carefully. "But something is wrong; otherwise, he would have been picked."
"Let's confirm, make some calls," Nathen instructed as the scouts began calling. On the screens, they could see other teams' reps also receiving calls, trying to answer the question on everyone's mind: what's wrong with Brian Urlacher?
They thought that the Baltimore Ravens at number ten would pick him up, but they did not. "With the tenth pick in the 2000 NFL Draft," Trueman announced, "the Chicago Bears select... Travis Taylor, Wide receiver, University of Florida!"
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"With the eleventh pick in the 2000 NFL Draft," Trueman announced, "The New York Giants select Chad Pennington, Quarterback out of, Marshal
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"With the 12th pick in the 2000 NFL Draft," Trueman announced, "The New England Patriots Select Ron Dayne, Running Back, out of the University of Wisconsin"
"Well, this just turned into a cluster fuck, No one will touch him with a ten-foot pole without knowing what's wrong with him," Rex muttered in disbelief as the panicked figure of Brian appeared on the screen, discussing animatedly with his agent. "It's probably just a Bears thing, but with them not talking, no one knows."
"He is probably fine, but we shouldn't pick him yet," Xavier said from the back, catching everyone's attention. "Right now, he is a volatile stock that could either implode or rise to the top, but if even the reckless Tiger owner passes on him, no one will in the first round. If he were lucky, he could fall to 18, but we should try to get a pick swap with Dahlen at the Broncos. He won't want to gamble this early into his job, but the possibility still exists."
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To Be Continued...