The greatest beauty and cruelty of college football is the brevity. The short seasons are here and gone before we feel we’ve fully grasped their import, and, at most, we are granted only a few years to appreciate the players we most admire before they’re shipped off to be homogenized into the NFL. It’s only natural, then, that draft season is the bleakest time of year for us. We wish all departing players well, but it always chokes us up a bit.
Never does this hit home harder than when Subway gets ahold of promising draft prospects. Was it just a few short months ago that we were marveling at Jarvis Jones’ Cocktail Party performance? He was an apex predator, an eater of Gators, and now he’s chicken salad. So wags the weary world away.