Last week, the NFL conducted its 2024 Draft. A record 750,000 people attended the three-day event in person, and more than 12 million people worldwide watched it on TV. It truly has become quite a spectacle.
The NFL draft is where hope springs eternal; every player believes they are a future hall of famer, and every fan believes this is "their year."
Amidst the excitement and anticipation, there's one player who stands out in a very unexpected way. "Mr. Irrelevant" is the moniker bestowed on the player chosen with the draft's final selection.
Fifty years ago, after a brief stint in the NFL, Paul Salata came up with an interesting idea: What if the NFL celebrated the last pick of the draft the same way it did the first guy off the board? The idea was to celebrate the mere selection of being asked to play in the NFL, but in a fun way, coining the phrase, Mr. Irrelevant.
In an article on ESPN.com Salata stated, "We established Mr. Irrevelent to drive home an important message—that it's not a negative to be picked last in the NFL Draft; rather, it's an honor to be drafted at all. The last draft pick demonstrates perseverance, a lesson that resonates with people everywhere."
One of the latest and greatest examples of this lesson is Brock Purdy, quarterback of the San Francisco 49ers, and Mr. Irrelevant 2022. During his rookie season, after injuries to the starting and backup quarterback, Purdy left the practice squad to lead his team to eight consecutive victories and the NFC Championship game. Were it not for a severe injury he sustained at the start of the game, many believed the 49ers, led by Purdy, would have gone on to win the Super Bowl.
Brock Purdy proves that despite dozens of coaches and scouts, thousands of hours of film study, and dozens of pre-draft workouts, the best of the best still get it wrong. Determining who someone will become is more of an art and less of a science. It's more about will than it is skill.
"He's never had a backup plan," Brock's mom, Carrie Purdy, says. "He wasn't going to be a pharmaceutical sales rep or real estate agent. He was going to be a football player."
Like many of you, I identify with Mr. Irrelevant because early on in my career, I was never seen as or felt like I was 'draft-worthy' as a music educator.
After auditioning to be a music major, I was not awarded a scholarship and wasn't accepted into the studio. After I got in, I struggled with theory, history, and piano, and I rarely placed in the top ensembles. In short, I had to work and study twice as hard to keep up with my more talented counterparts.
But I didn't give up. I persevered and put in the work. Over time, I watched more qualified candidates and better musicians fade away into other majors while I stayed the course. Like Brock Purdy, for me, there was no backup plan. I would be a music teacher, and a good one—period.
Music Educator is our title. We are musicians and educators—requiring two equally essential but divergent skill sets. Are we musicians first or educators first? What good are music skills if you can't communicate them in an environment conducive to learning? Conversely, what good are classroom control skills if you have no music pedagogy to share when the room is quiet?
We've all seen fine musicians struggle on the podium, and many stellar teachers struggle with an instrument in their hand. Truth be told, most of us are somewhere in between - proficient at both and perfect at neither.
Being a musician is hard. Being an educator is hard. Combined, the job description morphs into something completely different. It's almost impossible to describe and even harder to assess. These qualities are subjective, and the skills required vary based on the levels, content, and area in which you teach.
Despite my desire, I didn't know if I would be a good music educator. And neither did anyone else. Others thought they knew, but they didn't.
The same holds true for our students. I like to think I know if they will be successful, but I don't know for sure. Just as I would like to believe I surprised some of my professors, I can tell you that there are students who have amazed me.
Remember, after over a decade in the sport, countless coaches, two dozen college games, thousands of game-time reps, hundreds of scouts, general managers, and coaches failed to see Brock Purdy's potential. They saw the mobility, speed, and arm strength but could not see the magic.
All of you have outpaced, outperformed, and outlived someone else's expectations. Someone placed limitations on you that you did not embrace. At some point and in some way, through your efforts, expectations were exceeded, challenges were overcome, and barriers were broken. This is your super power.
And it's what makes you Mr. Irrelevant.
And that's something the NFL thinks is worth celebrating.
Why not?
Have a great week, everyone!
Scott