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Brady Quinn Falls to 22nd Pick; Angry QB Blasts Critics with Passive Aggressive Sarcasm

Brady Quinn

Notre Dame Quarterback Brady Quinn was not smiling during or after his embarrassing tumble in the NFL draft. Quinn's understated sarcasm prompted hostility from the assembled press corps. While many will tolerate passive-aggressive behavior from their wives, they were not about to tolerate it from a soon-to-be fabulously wealthy NFL quarterback who, until that point, never had a bad day in his young life.

NEW YORK, NY (The Sportsman's Daily Wire Service) – The longest first round in NFL draft history lasted 6 hours and 8 minutes. To Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn, a projected top ten pick who tumbled to number 22, it felt like an eternity. Several hours after the draft, a bitterly disappointed Quinn continued to lash out at the “twenty NFL teams that obviously think I suck.”

As the first day of the draft inched forward, it became painfully clear that Quinn, celebrated for his on-field exploits and matinee idol looks, was in for a long and highly humiliating day. The Notre Dame star appeared disappointed but not devastated when the Browns, his favorite team growing up, used the third pick to select someone not named Brady Quinn. He was confident he’d hear his name called within the next six picks. But when the Dolphins confounded the experts by using the ninth pick to select someone other than the Fighting Irish quarterback, Quinn could barely conceal his shock – which soon turned to horror as he realized that none of the next several teams – Houston, SF, Buffalo and St. Louis – needed a quarterback.

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell eased the mounting tension and put an end to Quinn’s acute public embarrassment by hustling him into a private suite, where he paced and brooded as the first round picks came in irregular, merciless intervals, each delivering a small but punishing psychic deathblow. By the time he was selected by the Cleveland Browns with the 22nd pick, Quinn drifted toward the podium like a condemned apparition in a pinstripe suit.

“For just about anyone, that has to be extremely painful, humiliated before millions watching at home,” said a classmate and friend of Quinn’s who attended the draft at the fabled Radio City Music Hall. “But it’s impossible to overstate how painful it was for a guy like Brady – he’s like the girl who’s never in her life experienced a bad hair day. Then one day she wakes up with split ends and ESPN is there by her bedside to record each futile brush stoke. When you’ve lead a charmed, perfect life, an uncooperative coif is a near-death experience.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” said an ashen Quinn, still shaken and somewhat downcast an hour after his name was called. “If anything I’m relieved. Seriously. I mean it. Honest. As the 22nd pick there’s no pressure. I’ll report to mini-camp like just another rookie, without any expectations. Obviously no one’s expecting me to win the starting job or tear up the league any time soon. It will be interesting to just sit back and see how my career, to the extent that I have one, unfolds.”

When asked if he felt he now has something to prove, Quinn passively shrugged it off.

“According to the experts I’m a late first round talent. I have no doubt there are 21 football players that should have been picked before me. Which, as you now know, were.”

Surprised by his lack of affect, the questions continued, each reporter attempting to fan Quinn’s unspoken but palpable hostility into a fiery outburst of authentic anger.

“Obviously they know more about Brady Quinn than I do. They’re the geniuses making the decisions. Who am I to argue with the collective wisdom of the NFL’s best minds?”

“Why spend my entire career trying to prove them wrong? I was drafted 22nd for a reason – obviously I don’t have the skills or leadership qualities you need to be a franchise quarterback in the NFL. I’ll just have to live with that.”

“If you asked me yesterday whose career would I like to pattern mine after, I would have said Carson Palmer, maybe Dan Marino, but with a Superbowl ring. Now I’ll be lucky to be Rick Mirer. Someone once referred to Mirer as ‘shit in a uniform,’ which I think was highly unfair – shit may not win games, but it’s an indispensable staple of our nation’s agribusiness and should get the respect it deserves.”

Quinn’s comments grew darker as the longest day in his otherwise charmed young life seemed never to end, his passive aggressive hostility combining with a poisonous self-loathing.

“Maybe I should just listen to the guy who told me to kill myself. Turns out he’s a Green Bay fan, so I’ll just take it under advisement.”

Quinn’s passive hostility – or hostile passivity – came as a great relief to at least one NFL executive whose team considered selecting him with their mid first round pick.

“The last thing you need is a quarterback who becomes passive aggressive in pressure situations. When you’re down late in the game, sarcasm won’t get it done. I’ve known some quarterbacks who had some success with irony and one who had a brief successful run using well-placed understatement. Brady Quinn may go on to have a nice NFL career once he learns to express his anger and disappointment less ambiguously. Perhaps he should spend some time with Alec Baldwin and ask for pointers.”

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