Barry Tompkins: So many draft experts, so little time

I admit it. I do listen to sports talk radio.

I do it for several reasons and in spite of several others. When I’m driving, I like to think of talk radio as audio wallpaper. I don’t really hear every word that’s spoken because my mind is generally asking me a more pertinent question like, “Has the dog pooped in the last few days?” Or, “Did my wife say pick up milk or pick up Milk of Magnesia?”

So, my mind only absorbs bits and pieces of any blather discussing Bryce Eldridge’s chances of being on the major league roster or whether Victor Bericoto’s grand slam means he’s the reincarnation of Aaron Judge. After all, it’s almost baseball season.

So why is every word (or at least the ones I hear) about the NFL?

I have to admit that the NFL has figured it out. There won’t be a block thrown in anger until next fall but the league has spaced out every notable (and several non-notable) tidbits throughout the year so that there is always fodder for the talk shows.

Teams can begin negotiations with potential free agents on March 3. Legal (formerly illegal) tampering follows on March 9. On March 11 free agents may be signed. Then we get to talk about who the 49ers did — or more importantly did not — sign in free agency.

That takes us all the way to the NFL draft which begins April 23. However the date to begin talking about the draft seems to have started about two weeks ago. Which is roughly five weeks too soon.

To say that the NFL Draft has grown into seemingly the greatest city-held event this side of Mardi Gras just boggles my mind. It was historically held in the basement of a hotel in some un-named berg with 64 people sitting behind folding tables with a mimeograph machine, a pen and paper, and a telephone the size of a refrigerator glued to their ears. The on-site staffing generally consisted of the guy who throws the used jock straps into the laundry bin, and the team receptionist or, if she refused, the hotel doorman.

The poobahs in what has become known as the “War Room” back at team headquarters were generally the head coach, the chief scout, the general manager, the team owner, and his stepson who was told he could decide on who he wanted to pick in the second, fourth, and sixth rounds. When the chosen player was selected, the poobahs called the jock strap guy who handed a card with the player’s name on it to the receptionist/doorman, who hustled over to the Commissioner’s attaché who put it in a pile with all the previous picks.

Players were informed of their selection by a guy on a horse with a mailbag.

The ESPN production of the NFL draft consisted of Chris Berman, Mel Kiper, and 10 other guys who were there for the sole purpose of telling Mel and Chris what a lousy pick that was.

There was so little public interest in the draft that TV Guide simply called it “Alternative Programming.”

And here we are, just a generation or two later, and the NFL draft has become the second coming of the Greatest Show on Earth. And, to boot, there are roughly 2,762,000 viewers out there who are certain they know more than every NFL front office, every scout, every commentator, and everyone who ever held a stopwatch at the combine.

If the truth be told, 2,760,000 of them actually do know more than Mel Kiper.

Today you’ve got an enormous squadron of draft “experts” who sit on a shredded Barcalounger in their mother’s basement surrounded by Cabbage Patch dolls and empty donut boxes. Most are incredulous that they are not asked to be in on John Lynch and Kyle Shanahan’s player evaluation sessions. It’s simple. They just know more and never get asked for an opinion. But they do have the radio talk shows.

And because their area of expertise has expanded beyond the draft and into who the 49ers should go after in the free-agent market, we’re talking primarily about our local football team before the first pitch of the baseball season.

And this is why, despite my loyalty to our local sports talk show hosts, I’m thinking more about my dog’s bowels than I am about who the 49ers will select with the 27th pick of the draft six and a half weeks from now.

Even despite the conversation on these shows having been centered on what the 49ers might or might not do over the next several months, between memorizing a shopping list and pet regularity, I’ve learned some valuable things from callers.

For instance, I had no idea that Steve Kerr couldn’t coach basketball any longer and needed to find another line of work. It’s remarkable to me that he could forget how to do his job after so many championship rings. Maybe he’s thinking about his dog, too.

And those Giants? I just don’t know. I agree with those callers who think we should trade Spencer Bivens and Jerar Encarnacion to the Dodgers for Shohei Ohtani and Freddie Freeman. Somebody out there’s really thinking.

Minnesota needs a quarterback. So let’s trade Mac Jones to them for Justin Jefferson. Hey, we need receiving help, don’t you think? That guy’s good.

Better yet, let’s get Macklin Celebrini. He’s young and a big scorer. Maybe the Warriors can use him.

What’s the call-in number at The Sports Leader?

Oh wait. It is Milk of Magnesia — and boy do I need it.

Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native. Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.