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kasper13

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What's his name? Schefter? Just said again Buffalo tried real hard to get Tebow and they are very disappointed. Also said Minnesota and Cleveland also need a QB and between the three- Bills, Browns and Vikings and only Claussen and McCoy left, one team will lose out and be disappointed. Let me guess, it will be Buffalo. Two major disappointments on Night One of the draft. Funny, but I'm not disappointed at all. I think Tebow is going to do nothing but sell a few jerseys in Denver. There is a reason Claussen went from a Top 10 prospect to not being drafted yet and McCoy is kinda short for a NFL QB. I'll wait for Locker 1st overall in 2011. Eh, Detroit traded for Minnesota's pick. Claussen will be in the 2nd round.

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What's his name? Schefter? Just said again Buffalo tried real hard to get Tebow and they are very disappointed. Also said Minnesota and Cleveland also need a QB and between the three- Bills, Browns and Vikings and only Claussen and McCoy left, one team will lose out and be disappointed. Let me guess, it will be Buffalo. Two major disappointments on Night One of the draft. Funny, but I'm not disappointed at all. I think Tebow is going to do nothing but sell a few jerseys in Denver. There is a reason Claussen went from a Top 10 prospect to not being drafted yet and McCoy is kinda short for a NFL QB. I'll wait for Locker 1st overall in 2011. Eh, Detroit traded for Minnesota's pick. Claussen will be in the 2nd round.

 

 

Minnesota now has Detroit's second round pick. They need a Qb too. Unless we trade with the Rams, I expect Clausen to be gone by our second round pick.

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QB or not QB: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause: there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office and the spurns

That patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry,

And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd.

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