The Pro Day is the latest rage for college players who are looking to make it to the NFL. Some do it to improve their stock; others are just hoping someone with a stopwatch will take notice.

It seems a little silly to me, because I wonder what those 12 or 13 games during the fall have to do with being a good football player. You may have led the nation in interceptions, but can you run the three-cone drill?

I remember my Pro Day …

No, really, I actually had a Pro Day (sort of) as I neared graduation from Louisiana Tech in 1981. Two potential employers came to Ruston to see what I was all about. I remember showing up in cream-colored Jimmy Connors sweatsuit (don’t laugh — you wish you had one in the early ’80s) at Maxwell’s Restaurant at the Holiday Inn along Interstate 20. There was a lot of pressure as these potential landing spots looked at such things as:

**How fast could I hit the return carriage on the typewriter?

**Did I leave any participles dangling?

**Was I a risk to use a one-word lead?

**Were my hands large enough to handle the full keyboard?

Having been heavily scouted, the word was out that I was a hunt-and-peck typist instead of a 10-finger guy, but I felt like that was one thing that set me apart from the others. That was me being me; I had to keep it real.

When it was all over, I felt like I had left it all out there. There was nothing more I could do, so I just had to let the chips fall.

Ultimately, I did go pro. After some brutal negotiations, I showed up a few weeks later at the Shreveport Journal for $240 a week (that was brutal). And I vowed revenge on the Monroe Morning World for passing on me.

(Maybe it was the Jimmy Connors sweatsuit.)