That exciting draft

J's World, by Jeremiah Bartz

On June 26, rather than enjoying the cool, yet sunny outdoors, I spent the entire afternoon and early evening sitting on my couch watching the National Basketball Association draft.

It is ironic, the NBA normally bugs the heck out of me, but I do love the NBA draft.

I am all about professional sports draft. The NFL ranks at the top of the list, but the NBA is watchable also.

This could mean one of two things. Either I am an idiot and wasting my time, or I have no life.

Well, it is probably a combination of the two.

I have always had this idea that I am some kind of talent evaluator. I often send notes to former colleagues with the University of Alaska Fairbanks athletics about local prospects I think would do well in that blue and gold Nanook uniform.

And on draft day I sit in front of the television, yearning for the day that I am sitting at that desk telling the world why I think the Milwaukee Bucks reached by drafting T.J. Ford.

I try to be like Mel Kiper Jr. without the hairdo, or Charles Barkley without the dark complexion or athletic ability.

The NBA draft is normally a good source of entertainment, whether you are watching the future pros decked out in their thousand dollar pastel-colored suits and wearing earrings with diamonds larger than the basketballs they dribble or listening to Stuart Scott trying to interview a sobbing

mother.

The laughter is often interrupted by screams, especially if you are a Bulls fan.

This year I screamed at the television after ESPN announced that the Bulls may be trading for yet another project big man? They do not need another Tyson Chandler.

Two years ago I screamed so loud after they traded Elton Brand for Chandler, that I thought I did significant damage to my vocal chords.

I am just recovering. Karaoke has not been the same.

This year I am some-what pleased with the Bulls draft.

Drafting Kirk Hinrich was a good move.

You always have to pull for the spunky white guy.