Whether or not you enjoy watching every long, drawn-out second of the NFL Draft (apparently some people have lives to go live), I hereby forbid you from calling yourself a football fan if you are not aware of the Daniel Jones saga that has been continuing to build ever since that fateful first night of this year’s event. It was a night that many teams altered the fortune of their franchise forever, but in the collective case of Giants fans, this was hardly a cause for celebration. Immediately upon hearing Roger Goodell announce the highly controversial decision to select Duke quarterback Daniel Jones with the #6 overall pick (lol, pick-six, get it?), you were hard-pressed to find anyone that approved of such a move.
Naturally, I played along and laughed at those poor, exasperated Giants fans along with the rest of the NFL. In reality, I’d be lying if I said I saw Daniel Jones throw a single pass in college, and I have no clue if he can rescue
my guy Saquon that floundering franchise from the imminent death that it appears to be darting towards at lightning speed. Life is about the likes and retweets on your brutally savage jokes, not being educated or correct. I can, however, empathize with the gripes that the fanbase is taking with its organization.
Ohio State QB Dwayne Haskins was almost universally predicted to be first quarterback off the board that night, so one would think that the Giants would’ve taken Jones with their second pick at #17. Haskins thought it was all pretty humorous too… for more, uh, personal reasons.
The only being on the entire planet who seems to be parading this pick around like a shiny new Hatchimal (apparently this is a popular kids toy) is Giants GM, Dave Gettleman. Post-draft, Gettleman proudly proclaimed that he fell in love with Jones after witnessing one series at the SENIOR BOWL. As concerning as this was, Jones’ former coach, David Cutcliffe, made an even more jarring statement to back up Gettleman’s satisfaction with his choice:
“Daniel Jones embraces something we believe in here – real swag is no swag.”
I’m sorry, I must have underestimated the rate at which my vision is deteriorating due to the amount of time I spend staring at screens all day… because there’s no way I read this correctly as an actual quote that came out of a living and breathing human being’s mouth. I’d be less flabbergasted to see an entire colony of flies escape the mouth of Eli Manning during a press conference than I was by this.
This nonsense has lingered for far too long, so “swag” is what we’re investigating today. Specifically as it pertains to the appointed heir of Eli. Is real swag truly no swag? What even is swag? We’ve seen the word thrown around carelessly for years on end — most notably done by Justin Bieber in his song “Boyfriend.”
But what the heck does this word actually mean? Let’s start with the basics. According to Urban Dictionary, “swag” can be “better” defined as:
The new generation’s alternative word for “cool”.
The new generation originally used swag to describe anyone thought to carry themselves in a way considered by some to be sexy / cool.
Now it is used to describe anything thought to be cool, initiating the irk of previous generations and members of the new generation that disagree with new words.
Okay Urb (we’re really close so I can call him that), for once in my life, you didn’t really help me out here. Judging by the constant additions to this story line, a swag-vestigation is what the people want to carry them through to the day that we actually see Daniel Jones play. So as the woman of the people that I am, that’s exactly what I’m going to give you.
It turns out that publicly establishing your swag can provide you with endless chances in this league, regardless of how many bar fights you’ve initiated, threats of gun violence you’ve made, and homes you’ve invaded while dressed as a cowboy. Bonus points if you literally just start referring to yourself as “Swag.” How is a GM supposed to scoff at that?!
I won’t be suggesting any of the above methods, but since Giants fans are already out on Jones, let’s examine what precautionary steps he can take in order to boost his swag and stretch out his NFL career for as long as possible. Or in other words, end up as a backup on the Jets for a few seasons. As an Eagles fan, this is an extremely noble undertaking for me, but I don’t need your praise. Improving someone else’s life is all I am on this Earth to do and is rewarding enough.
Daniel Jones. Ho hum. Did I stay up until 2 AM playing my free download of Sims 4 last night or did that name just lull me to sleep faster than you can say “We didn’t sign Odell to trade him.” As I established via my second-ever blog post, a name can make or break your status as a football player. As a human in general, it’s arguably the most important quality that you take ownership over. And as a man whose place on The Bachelorette I still cannot seem to determine, John Paul Jones is proving that requesting to be called by your entire name may be a simple trick that does wonders.
While John Jones is an innately cooler name than Daniel Jones, due to the alliteration factor, adding “Paul” takes him to entirely new heights as an overall individual.
Does John David Booty ring a bell? Of course it does. I have absolutely no idea what happened to him after USC, but it was certainly not notable enough to remember his name today. But I do, because he went by three names. And the last one was Booty.
Now, I am suggesting that Daniel Jones experiment with the same tactic.
Unfortunately, his middle name is nowhere to be found on the internet, and it’s possible that he does not even have one. Shockingly, we try to give this dude some helpful hints, and he just complicates the entire process. The uphill battle to stardom continues to throw him down the mountain while Eli remains at its peak, mostly because Archie has nailed his cleats to it.
Unless Daniel Jones decides to run for president in fifteen years and people start questioning his birthplace, I’m not sure I will ever truly know the status of this name that I so badly need him to don. The natural next step in this progression is to create a middle name for him. Pffft, and men say they do all the work.
When looking at a list of the most popular middle names of the 90’s, two of the top ten stick out to me: David and James. Using either one of these would gift Daniel Jones a form of the coveted alliteration that he currently lacks.
Daniel David Jones.
Daniel James Jones.
I could work with either, but I think I’m leaning towards James. Thoughts? We don’t need to ask Daniel himself — we know what we’re doing here, as loser outsiders sitting in our cubicles and unfairly judging millionaire kids who have yet to take their first snap in the NFL.
“Old Kobe, I guess.” For real? At least trust in your terrible pick with some passion and confidence!
Some may say a number is just a number. Sometimes you don’t have many to choose from, and you don’t end up with your first preference.
But EIGHT?! Is he a big Frosty the Snowman fan? Weird move to rock the picture of a guy who melted under pressure. Additionally, Trent Dilfer, Sam Bradford, and Kirk Cousins come to mind. Wow, I’m shaking in my boots.
Big ole nerd from Duke — probably picked it because it’s symmetrical along both axes. Yikes, I sound like a massive poindexter even pointing this out. I tried to swim at Duke but they ignored my emails…
We had one optimist (wouldn’t know what that’s like) trying to give him some credit:
But it’s not like he’d be allowed to take #24, so no credit is due.
Taking a glance at the Giants’ roster, it appears that it hasn’t been updated for the rookies yet, so the numbers he likely had to choose from were 1, 4, 6, 7, 11, 14, 16 — arguably all being no-brainers as better choices. Not a ton of players are out there rocking 14 or 16, but something about them is still more enthralling than 8, no?
As the #6 overall pick, I’d assume he got the first crack at number selection, and if he didn’t, that’s a whole new route of embarrassing that we’d have to dig through. He should force someone to switch with him immediately, before he starts to actually play and people forget that he was once a sought-after draft pick.
A nice, clean slant that OBJ will unfortunately not be running for him. That’s the one. Plus, he needs all the luck he can get.
You don’t have to be as intelligent as someone who attended Duke to know that earning a degree in economics from the institution is a very impressive feat. So congrats on that, Daniel James Jones. Daniel David Jones? Damn it, I still can’t decide.
Anyway, as hunky-dory as this is for someone who aspires to work on Wall Street, Daniel Jones won’t be setting foot there for awhile, unless he has hopes of visiting the Museum of American Finance. Which he probably does, now that I write this out.
When it comes down to it, on a swag level, Duke just doesn’t scream “rough around the edges.” Not even a soft whisper. What’s done is done, but the future holds endless possibilities. I suggest that Daniel Jones complete a second degree from another school, and just start spreading the narrative that he went there instead. Like me, telling people that I went to Penn State and ignoring the part where I spent four years at South Carolina before that. No one has to know. He can do it online. Still counts.
I can see it now: Sunday Night Football, Giants @ Cowboys (week one, obviously — year is interchangeable). His Eli Manning-clone face pops up on your screen as he gets his fellas psyched up to watch him throw a pick six on his first drive.
“Daniel David Jones. Florida.”
That certainly roughs him up a little, does it not? Aaron Hernandez, Riley Cooper, Louis Murphy, Matt Elam, Will Hill, Brandon Spikes, Jermaine Cunningham, Ray McDonald… did I miss anyone? If he’s too busy to get a second degree, perhaps he could just spend a weekend with Urban Meyer, and the trouble would ensue. Quick, grab him before he starts coaching USC or Notre Dame! It’s always nice to have options.
Just think it over, DDJ (acronyms are hot). This could be the beginning of something beautiful. Swag-iful? Get moving, you’re not off to a sensational start.