The NFL Draft, to the regular sports fan, has to be one of the most mundane events that exists.
At least the soccer transfer window was the original creator of fake news, drama, and extended periods when ABBA's old hit Money, Money, Money gets trapped in your head.
In contrast, the draft is this weird process where you follow kids and take notes on stats and hope to the gods above your team bags a winner. This NFL Draft added new levels of tears and emotions for all sorts of reasons.
Typically, the draft occurs on my birthday, and this is when I usually write down my goals for the following year. That recurring themes are probably sport and disability.
I took a break from my [also] mundane task to tune in to see how my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers would do. And, to my amazement, linebacker Ryan Shazier literally walked again.
I still remember that night on December 4th where Shazier made a routine tackle and lay there lifeless saying he could not move his legs. I can still see the fear etched on his team-mates’ faces, and those of the opposition, when it became clear there was something wrong.
I still remember that awful stomach tightness you get when you see something tragic happen. Shazier was not supposed to be that guy, who all of a sudden acquires such a debilitating disability that he was no longer able to walk, run, play with his child and instead becomes a wheelchair user. There’s that idea that players and athletes are superheroes. They can overcome anything at all.
And, on the night of the draft, Shazier overcame everything. He walked, with the aid of his fiancée, across that stage, threw himself onto the podium and announced the Steelers pick in that draft.
Shazier shows you what football or any sport can do to you. But he proves my point about being a superhero. He overcame everything and what a moment it was to see him work his way back to everything he once knew in his life before.
The only possible way that moment could be topped was if some other hero emerged from the darkness, like in a Marvel movie, and saved the day. Enter Shaquem Griffin.
Growing up, Shaquem and his twin brother Shaquill, only ever spent one minute apart . . . when they were born. They were always side by side playing football just like brothers do. Shaquill was drafted to the Seattle Seahawks and had to leave his brother’s side for a year after Shaquem stayed in UCF to help them go unbeaten in their season.
Nothing of note so far, only when you realise Shaquem only has one hand and was the first person with such a disability to play college football – and now the NFL. Shaquill used to tell his brother his chance of being drafted was one per cent, whereas others would have said the odds were much lower, if he had any at all.
Congenital condition
His left hand was amputated when he was four-years old, as a result of a congenital condition called amniotic band syndrome, which had stopped the development of the appendage and caused intolerable pain.
While his personal story is one of overcoming every obstacle, even in his football career he overcame all ideas that he was at a disadvantage. Shaquem got to the NFL combine after initially not being invited, and well, the rest was astounding.
Using a prosthetic hand, he bench-pressed 225 pounds 20 times, three more reps than his brother over a year ago. He then matched his twin brother by running the 40-yard dash in 4.38 seconds, which was clocked as one of the fastest linebackers since 2003.
After Shaquem got drafted by the Seahawks, the brothers reunited for a brief moment, fixed their suits, put on the Seahawks draft SnapBack and waited for Shaquem's name to be called. His walk-up music began playing, Drake's Do Not Disturb, and it was time for Shaquem Griffin, draft pick of the Seattle Seahawks, to take his much-anticipated walk across the stage in front of a frenzied crowd. He took a deep breath, patted his chest and looked over at his brother, who was right next to him once again. They had been 524,161 minutes apart officially.
Shaquem Griffin and Ryan Shazier, while amazing and inspirational stories, do not want to be your feel-good stories or the miracle you cling onto for hope. They want to be footballers, and while Shazier is already an established linebacker, Griffin wants to reach those heights. He dreamed of the draft, he is currently dreaming of the Pro Bowl, and then he’ll focus on the Super Bowl.
For now, they are both doing what they need to do to fulfil their goals and ambitions.
Eighteen years ago, four-year-old Shaquem was found by his mother trying to cut his own arm off with a knife. Now he’s arguably a contender for a Super Bowl, with his brother by his side. Shazier just five months ago was in a hospital bed being told he may not walk again. Now he’s walking with his fiancée by his side.
So, I flicked back to my empty Word document titled ‘hopes and plans for my 22nd year’, and all I could write was my lesson from that NFL Draft.
Never give up.
