Take a few deep, cleansing breaths

So, after months of speculation, countless mocks, gallons of petrochemicals sacrificed on the altar of Mel Kiper's hair and about 12 hours of the actual NFL Draft, what have we learned?

Not a damned thing.

Chances are, if your favorite team sucked Friday, it still sucks today. Or maybe they don't. Maybe they've picked up some unholy combination of Deacon Jones and Darryl Green who can run like the wind, bench press Cadillacs, eat iron and crap high-grade steel.

The fact is, nobody knows what, if anything, this weekend will mean for any team. Not yet, anyway. Any honest commentator will tell you a draft can't be judged for at least three years.

So all those "Grade the Draft" columns you're going to see this week? The insights of my cats are about as useful. You're better off downloading porn instead of worrying about what Peter King thinks about the draft.

Actually, that's probably always true. At least porn will get you off and King can't say that. (I hope. What kind of sick freaks are you people?)

Quiet as kept, most of the guys drafted this weekend will never be anything more than camp bodies who never get into an NFL stadium without a ticket. There is as much chance the highly-touted rookie you're so excited about will become an All-Pro as there is he'll become a bust so horrible his name is only mentioned as a cautionary tale or a sick joke.

So for those of you who think that first-rounder is just the guy to put your team over the top? Relax. He probably won't start this year and there is, at best, a 50-50 proposition he ever becomes a regular starter. Courtney Brown was once a can't-miss prospect.

For those of you who are convinced your team's entire front office is composed entirely of knuckle-dragging sub-morons who've doomed the franchise for years to come (i.e. Eagles fans every single year)? Relax. It's entirely possible that men who've watched so much college game tape in the past few months that they scream "Whoo, pig sooey" upon orgasm might know a bit more about football than you've been able to glean from the local sports radio meathead.

The draft is a crapshoot and the odds are terrible. Accept this now, and you'll live a much happier life.

Unless you're in Detroit. You should probably just become a hockey fan.