It is almost sundown. Thru my full length leather coat I can feel the wanning heat on my back. The sweat forming on my skin underneath collects dust like a magnet, waffed by swirls of wind whipping up from the baking Sonorean Desert. I tug a little on my sombrero chin tye, lowering it a little to clearly see the endless horizon thru the blowing dust. I clamp hard on my picayune when I see the sky turn almost black. It didn't take a conscious thought to realize what blotted out the sun. The sweat on my face turned to ice. Then I knew-The battle is about to begin! 100,000 arrows were screaming toward me with a vengeance all with TST posts taped to them speaking in one hissing voice-"TRADE DOWN!" So with the theme song of "The Good, Bad and the Ugly" ringing in my ears,...... I took the jump........

And landed squarely in a used car parking lot crammed full of Yugo's. Shaken for a moment, I got up to dust myself off only to discover I was back in my flip-flops, too short jeans and ragged T-shirt. Before I could even utter the words "wha thu" my eyes fell on the name of the lot- "The Rams 3-4-5-6-7th future picks." My voice trailed off into a muted breath as I said to myself "Cheezjesus". Is this what we all waited for all these years? To trade down into the Yugo lot? To pick every guy because of how cheap he is? The glaze over my eyes was again broken like a slap to the face when a Hugh Mac truck semi pulled out of the lot next door, roaring and belching fire, burning rubber, and then another, and another. On the sides were emblazoned the names of other teams that gave up the cheap Yugo's for bulldozers. As the last truck pulled out, It gave me a smirk, flipped me off and said "Hey Dude, be happy-you get what you pay for" The Rams have a choice to take, or not to take, the opportunity to build at least one side of the team or the other into what will make us news, and be half way respected as an opponent, or we go the way of the Yugo and get pink pants for our new Unies. I'm going to battle for the Mack Truck!