Like most Jets fans, my initial draft attention focused mostly on that Sanchez character and my new main man, Mr. Shonn Greene. Lest we not forget football fans that the J-E-T-S had one more pick in their thin-in-the-selection-dept. 2009 NFL Draft. With the #193 pick, the New York Jets selected Steve Lattimer, defensive end, ECU…
Just kidding…the green-and-white added 6-6, 315-pound former Nebraska Cornhuskers guard Matt Slauson, who only conjures up images of the famed face-painting animal from The Program.
I don’t know a whole lot about Slauson other than what the “experts” say about his potential to play multiple O-line positions and the fact he was All Big 12 for three years. Besides that, I’m pretty reliant on photos. And all I can say is that, from the looks of him, I am already a big Matt Slauson fan.
Not that painting your face makes you good or anything, but it does up the chances that you’re perhaps just a wee bit…off — which is a trait that I love in my team’s offensive lineman (maybe outside of the center position). Not to abuse the cliche, but a good ole-fashioned mean streak never did hurt those dudes in the trenches. I like the way them fellas play, the Kyle Turley types who seem like decent human beings off the field but turn into somewhat maniacal road graters on it.
Sure, Slauson may turn out to be a nice college player who can’t make his way onto an NFL roster, but we’re rooting for him. I mean, when was the last time you tore your pectoral muscle during the bench press portion of the combine and then “gutted it out?” Are you f-in kidding me? With that to contemplate, a photographic tribute to one of the newest Jets. My personal favorite is the one where he’s sprinting down the field after his back sans helmet looking ready to decapitate someone. Fanstastic.
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About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.