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Bud Shaw's Guide to the NFL Draft

The NFL draft is upon us. We know this because Mel Kiper Jr., who has made a comfortable living as a draft guru for ESPN, is fully prepped for what has become an American sports spectacle.

Scouting reports? All in his head. Sharpenened pencils? Whatever for? Key to the men's room? Pffft. Save that for the sissies.

It seems only fair that if we know everything about the draft prospects -- from their Wonderlic test scores to their time in the three-cone agility run to the size of their hands -- that we should know even more than is necessary about the face of the draft himself.

For one thing, Kiper doesn't go to the rest room once the draft begins until it ends each day. Ever.

The NFL draft is an exercise in TMI -- too much information -- and now I feel I've done my part in sharing that bathroom scouting report on Kiper.

I'm not sure when the draft reached its information tipping point. But it was definitely long after 1946, when the Washington Redskins chose UCLA back Cal Rossi as their first round pick. He was the ninth player taken overall.

The only problem? Rossi was just a junior and ineligible for the draft at the time.

Embarrassed, the Redskins took a full year to recover from their blunder. They chose Rossi again the following year. That's when they found out Rossi had no intentions of playing pro football.

Draft Lesson No. 1: Always do your homework.

Now homework on NFL draft prospects is a year-long cram, and nobody hooks up the caffeine IV and hits the library quite like ol' Mel.

It was during a recent interview on ESPN's Pardon the Interruption that Kiper verified he does not use the men's room once the draft begins.

This year the draft is a three-day affair for the first time with only the opening round in prime-time Thursday night. The second and third rounds go Friday. Rounds four through seven on Saturday. In the previous format, the first day of the draft could stretch 10 or 11 hours. Not even one bathroom visit?

Kiper explained on PTI that he did take a lavatory break one year—but never again. He said it took him two or three picks to get his enthusiasm level back to where it needed to be.

What was he doing in there? Using the facilities or giving blood? For the sake of his kidneys, couldn't ESPN station a nurse outside the men's room to hand him a sugar cookie on his way out?

A three-day draft instead of two seems a good opportunity for Kiper to strike an endorsement deal.

"Got a lot to do and can't afford to leave your work station? This is Mel Kiper Jr. for Depends."

Or, "This is Mel Kiper Jr. for Just Catheters."

Kiper has become an American sports institution right along with the draft he covers. This is his 28th year. It's the 75th year for the NFL.

He started preparing scouting reports as a teenager and would take them to the Baltimore Colts' training camp and hand them out.

There are still people who don't accept them in the intended spirit.

In NFL circles, one famous Kiper-related eruption made the volcano in Iceland that shut down air traffic all over Europe look like a puff of cigarette smoke.

It came from Colts' president Bill Tobin, who objected vigorously to Kiper's on-air criticism of his organization for passing up quarterback Trent Dilfer in the 1994 draft.

"Who is Mel Kiper?" Tobin railed. "He's never been a player, he's never been a coach, he's never been a scout, he's never been an administrator and all of a sudden he's an expert. He has no more credentials to do what he's doing than my neighbor, and my neighbor's a postman."

Here's another anti-Kiper rant from Tobin:

Kiper is part of why the draft has become such a televised spectacle. He doesn't use note cards. His projections might not be any better than your neighbor the mailman, but his memory bank on players is encyclopedic.

Like Watching Someone Read the Phone Book

The NFL unintentionally helped make Kiper the industry he's become. Teams can't let the average fan inside their draft preparations. They're protecting state secrets as far as they're concerned, trying to purposely mislead their competition about their intentions.

So Kiper and the draftniks who've followed are the conduits to the hungry fans dying for information on the players they convince themselves are crucial to their team's success. So we know why Kiper is big. But he alone can't account for the viewer ratings jumping 60 percent over the past handful of years.

The event that became his vehicle to fame moved into Radio City Music Hall in 2006 and just keeps growing.

Back in 1980, when ESPN chief Chet Simmons approached NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle about televising the draft, Rozelle thought he was joking.

"Why would you want to do that?" Rozelle asked.

ESPN's Chris Berman, on a conference call a few years ago, referred to the draft in that context to reading "the Manhattan phone book on TV."

The draft was a blind spot for Rozelle, otherwise a man of vision.

Is it so popular because it feels like Christmas Day to fans? That while they might not get exactly what they wanted, they got enough to close the gap with the rich kid next door?

Is it because there is no real scoreboard to ruin the day for the fans of the lesser teams who make their selections from the cream of the crop at the top of the draft?

Do people watch just to see if Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis is going to go even further off the deep end one of these years and draft, say, every member of his lookalike band, Sha Na Na?

Is it because people see it as just another reality show where 20-somethings either hit the jackpot or sit on camera trying to look calm while their stock falls through the floor, as it did for Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn a few years ago?

Is it because the NFL is so popular it could draw a crowd for Cat Flag Football if it slapped its logo on it and ESPN bought the TV rights?

It's for all of those reasons. It's certainly not because all the scouting, probing, measuring and testing has made drafting players such a sure thing.

Busts

Two years ago, ESPN.com released its list of the Top 50 Draft Busts.

Having lived in Cleveland since 1991, I was surprised to find only three Browns on that list. It seems as if there have been three worthy candidates a year.

No. 8 on the list was Mike Junkin, a Duke product drafted fifth overall in 1987. He was trumpeted to Browns fans as "a mad dog in a meat market." Not so much.

No. 19: Quarterback Tim Couch of Kentucky. Joining the expansion Browns in 1999 as the No. 1 overall pick, he spent most of his time in Cleveland being treated like a pinata.

No: 34: Craig Powell, a linebacker from Ohio State. He was drafted in the first round in 1995. Browns' owner Art Modell moved the team to Baltimore after that season. So poor Craig Powell was considered a bust in two cities.

The Browns' draft pick that stands out to me, though, was a fifth-round selection in 2001. His name was Jeremiah Pharms.

With all the scouting tools at their disposal, the Browns overlooked one small detail: Pharms had been under investigation for a drug-related shooting in the Seattle area for almost a year while he played his final season at the University of Washington. In the Browns' defense, University of Washington head coach Rick Neuheisel said he had no idea Pharms was in trouble. (For that crime at least. Pharms had a history of issues.)

Two weeks after the Browns drafted him and his maturity and high character were cited, police arrested him and he went to jail.

Bust? Or just busted?

I'll let Mel Kiper Jr. make the call.

Bud Shaw is a columnist for the Cleveland Plain Dealer who has also written for the Philadelphia Daily News, San Diego Union-Tribune, Atlanta Journal-Constitution and The National. You can read his Plain Dealer columns at Cleveland.com, and read all his mental_floss articles here.

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15 Heartwarming Facts About Mister Rogers
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Though Mister Rogers' Neighborhood premiered 50 years ago, Fred Rogers remains an icon of kindness for the ages. An innovator of children’s television, his salt-of-the-earth demeanor and genuinely gentle nature taught a generation of kids the value of kindness. In celebration of the groundbreaking children's series' 50th anniversary, here are 15 things you might not have known about everyone’s favorite “neighbor.”

1. HE WAS BULLIED AS A CHILD.

According to Benjamin Wagner, who directed the 2010 documentary Mister Rogers & Me—and was, in fact, Rogers’s neighbor on Nantucket—Rogers was overweight and shy as a child, and often taunted by his classmates when he walked home from school. “I used to cry to myself when I was alone,” Rogers said. “And I would cry through my fingers and make up songs on the piano.” It was this experience that led Rogers to want to look below the surface of everyone he met to what he called the “essential invisible” within them.

2. HE WAS AN ORDAINED MINISTER.

Rogers was an ordained minister and, as such, a man of tremendous faith who preached tolerance wherever he went. When Amy Melder, a six-year-old Christian viewer, sent Rogers a drawing she made for him with a letter that promised “he was going to heaven,” Rogers wrote back to his young fan:

“You told me that you have accepted Jesus as your Savior. It means a lot to me to know that. And, I appreciated the scripture verse that you sent. I am an ordained Presbyterian minister, and I want you to know that Jesus is important to me, too. I hope that God’s love and peace come through my work on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.”

3. HE RESPONDED TO ALL HIS FAN MAIL.

Responding to fan mail was part of Rogers’s very regimented daily routine, which began at 5 a.m. with a prayer and included time for studying, writing, making phone calls, swimming, weighing himself, and responding to every fan who had taken the time to reach out to him.

“He respected the kids who wrote [those letters],” Heather Arnet, an assistant on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette in 2005. “He never thought about throwing out a drawing or letter. They were sacred."

According to Arnet, the fan mail he received wasn’t just a bunch of young kids gushing to their idol. Kids would tell Rogers about a pet or family member who died, or other issues with which they were grappling. “No child ever received a form letter from Mister Rogers," Arnet said, noting that he received between 50 and 100 letters per day.

4. ANIMALS LOVED HIM AS MUCH AS PEOPLE DID.

It wasn’t just kids and their parents who loved Mister Rogers. Koko, the Stanford-educated gorilla who understands 2000 English words and can also converse in American Sign Language, was an avid Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood watcher, too. When Rogers visited her, she immediately gave him a hug—and took his shoes off.

5. HE WAS AN ACCOMPLISHED MUSICIAN.

Though Rogers began his education in the Ivy League, at Dartmouth, he transferred to Rollins College following his freshman year in order to pursue a degree in music (he graduated Magna cum laude). In addition to being a talented piano player, he was also a wonderful songwriter and wrote all the songs for Mister Rogers' Neighborhood—plus hundreds more.

6. HIS INTEREST IN TELEVISION WAS BORN OUT OF A DISDAIN FOR THE MEDIUM.

Rogers’s decision to enter into the television world wasn’t out of a passion for the medium—far from it. "When I first saw children's television, I thought it was perfectly horrible," Rogers told Pittsburgh Magazine. "And I thought there was some way of using this fabulous medium to be of nurture to those who would watch and listen."

7. KIDS WHO WATCHED MISTER ROGERS’ NEIGHBORHOOD RETAINED MORE THAN THOSE WHO WATCHED SESAME STREET.

A Yale study pitted fans of Sesame Street against Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood watchers and found that kids who watched Mister Rogers tended to remember more of the story lines, and had a much higher “tolerance of delay,” meaning they were more patient.

8. ROGERS’S MOM KNIT ALL OF HIS SWEATERS.

If watching an episode of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood gives you sweater envy, we’ve got bad news: You’d never be able to find his sweaters in a store. All of those comfy-looking cardigans were knitted by Fred’s mom, Nancy. In an interview with the Archive of American Television, Rogers explained how his mother would knit sweaters for all of her loved ones every year as Christmas gifts. “And so until she died, those zippered sweaters I wear on the Neighborhood were all made by my mother,” he explained.

9. HE WAS COLORBLIND.

Those brightly colored sweaters were a trademark of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, but the colorblind host might not have always noticed. In a 2003 article, just a few days after his passing, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette wrote that:

Among the forgotten details about Fred Rogers is that he was so colorblind he could not distinguish between tomato soup and pea soup.

He liked both, but at lunch one day 50 years ago, he asked his television partner Josie Carey to taste it for him and tell him which it was.

Why did he need her to do this, Carey asked him. Rogers liked both, so why not just dip in?

"If it's tomato soup, I'll put sugar in it," he told her.

10. HE WORE SNEAKERS AS A PRODUCTION CONSIDERATION.

According to Wagner, Rogers’s decision to change into sneakers for each episode of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was about production, not comfort. “His trademark sneakers were born when he found them to be quieter than his dress shoes as he moved about the set,” wrote Wagner.

11. MICHAEL KEATON GOT HIS START ON THE SHOW.

Oscar-nominated actor Michael Keaton's first job was as a stagehand on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, manning Picture, Picture, and appearing as Purple Panda.

12. ROGERS GAVE GEORGE ROMERO HIS FIRST PAYING GIG, TOO.

It's hard to imagine a gentle, soft-spoken, children's education advocate like Rogers sitting down to enjoy a gory, violent zombie movie like Dawn of the Dead, but it actually aligns perfectly with Rogers's brand of thoughtfulness. He checked out the horror flick to show his support for then-up-and-coming filmmaker George Romero, whose first paying job was with everyone's favorite neighbor.

“Fred was the first guy who trusted me enough to hire me to actually shoot film,” Romero said. As a young man just out of college, Romero honed his filmmaking skills making a series of short segments for Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, creating a dozen or so titles such as “How Lightbulbs Are Made” and “Mr. Rogers Gets a Tonsillectomy.” The zombie king, who passed away in 2017, considered the latter his first big production, shot in a working hospital: “I still joke that 'Mr. Rogers Gets a Tonsillectomy' is the scariest film I’ve ever made. What I really mean is that I was scared sh*tless while I was trying to pull it off.”

13. ROGERS HELPED SAVE PUBLIC TELEVISION.

In 1969, Rogers—who was relatively unknown at the time—went before the Senate to plead for a $20 million grant for public broadcasting, which had been proposed by President Johnson but was in danger of being sliced in half by Richard Nixon. His passionate plea about how television had the potential to turn kids into productive citizens worked; instead of cutting the budget, funding for public TV increased from $9 million to $22 million.

14. HE ALSO SAVED THE VCR.

Years later, Rogers also managed to convince the Supreme Court that using VCRs to record TV shows at home shouldn’t be considered a form of copyright infringement (which was the argument of some in this contentious debate). Rogers argued that recording a program like his allowed working parents to sit down with their children and watch shows as a family. Again, he was convincing.

15. ONE OF HIS SWEATERS WAS DONATED TO THE SMITHSONIAN.

In 1984, Rogers donated one of his iconic sweaters to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

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5 Things You Might Not Know About Ansel Adams

You probably know Ansel Adams—who was born on February 20, 1902—as the man who helped promote the National Park Service through his magnificent photographs. But there was a lot more to the shutterbug than his iconic, black-and-white vistas. Here are five lesser-known facts about the celebrated photographer.

1. AN EARTHQUAKE LED TO HIS DISTINCTIVE NOSE.

Adams was a four-year-old tot when the 1906 San Francisco earthquake struck his hometown. Although the boy managed to escape injury during the quake itself, an aftershock threw him face-first into a garden wall, breaking his nose. According to a 1979 interview with TIME, Adams said that doctors told his parents that it would be best to fix the nose when the boy matured. He joked, "But of course I never did mature, so I still have the nose." The nose became Adams' most striking physical feature. His buddy Cedric Wright liked to refer to Adams' honker as his "earthquake nose.

2. HE ALMOST BECAME A PIANIST.

Adams was an energetic, inattentive student, and that trait coupled with a possible case of dyslexia earned him the heave-ho from private schools. It was clear, however, that he was a sharp boy—when motivated.

When Adams was just 12 years old, he taught himself to play the piano and read music, and he quickly showed a great aptitude for it. For nearly a dozen years, Adams focused intensely on his piano training. He was still playful—he would end performances by jumping up and sitting on his piano—but he took his musical education seriously. Adams ultimately devoted over a decade to his study, but he eventually came to the realization that his hands simply weren't big enough for him to become a professional concert pianist. He decided to leave the keys for the camera after meeting photographer Paul Strand, much to his family's dismay.

3. HE HELPED CREATE A NATIONAL PARK.

If you've ever enjoyed Kings Canyon National Park in California, tip your cap to Adams. In the 1930s Adams took a series of photographs that eventually became the book Sierra Nevada: The John Muir Trail. When Adams sent a copy to Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes, the cabinet member showed it to Franklin Roosevelt. The photographs so delighted FDR that he wouldn't give the book back to Ickes. Adams sent Ickes a replacement copy, and FDR kept his with him in the White House.

After a few years, Ickes, Adams, and the Sierra Club successfully convinced Roosevelt to make Kings Canyon a national park in 1940. Roosevelt's designation specifically provided that the park be left totally undeveloped and roadless, so the only way FDR himself would ever experience it was through Adams' lenses.

4. HE WELCOMED COMMERCIAL ASSIGNMENTS.

While many of his contemporary fine art photographers shunned commercial assignments as crass or materialistic, Adams went out of his way to find paying gigs. If a company needed a camera for hire, Adams would generally show up, and as a result, he had some unlikely clients. According to The Ansel Adams Gallery, he snapped shots for everyone from IBM to AT&T to women's colleges to a dried fruit company. All of this commercial print work dismayed Adams's mentor Alfred Stieglitz and even worried Adams when he couldn't find time to work on his own projects. It did, however, keep the lights on.

5. HE AND GEORGIA O'KEEFFE WERE FRIENDS.

Adams and legendary painter O'Keeffe were pals and occasional traveling buddies who found common ground despite their very different artistic approaches. They met through their mutual friend/mentor Stieglitz—who eventually became O'Keeffe's husband—and became friends who traveled throughout the Southwest together during the 1930s. O'Keeffe would paint while Adams took photographs.

These journeys together led to some of the artists' best-known work, like Adams' portrait of O'Keeffe and a wrangler named Orville Cox, and while both artists revered nature and the American Southwest, Adams considered O'Keeffe the master when it came to capturing the area. 

“The Southwest is O’Keeffe’s land,” he wrote. “No one else has extracted from it such a style and color, or has revealed the essential forms so beautifully as she has in her paintings.”

The two remained close throughout their lives. Adams would visit O'Keeffe's ranch, and the two wrote to each other until Adams' death in 1984.

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