Yesterday, my stepdad and I traveled to Nashville. We’re big football fans, and both of our teams were in action. Like all NFL events, it was a huge production. ESPN was there. NFL Network too. The festivities began in the late morning. The stadium parking lots A, B, C and D filled up with fans who gathered to tailgate. Most of them wore their favorite player’s jersey. Some in full face paint. Cheerleaders paraded by to get everyone psyched up. All around the stadium, there were vendors and events where you could run the 40, kick a field goal, or see how long you could throw a football. There was even a display where you could see every Super Bowl ring. Nearby, tens of thousands of fans packed in front of a huge stage to watch a pregame concert. We had VIP tickets to have dinner and drinks at a local restaurant, so we headed here. As 7pm approached, it was time for kickoff. But the stadium remained empty. The crowd stayed bunched around the main stage. In our restaurant, everyone stayed in their seats and huddled around the bar. No one was in a hurry. “Here we go, it’s starting,” someone said. For four hours, we watched an old man come out onto the stage every 10 minutes and call out someone’s name. Kyler Murray. Quinnen Williams. Daniel Jones. That’s it. That’s all that happened. Yet it was oddly thrilling. It was like any pro football game. We ate barbeque and mac and cheese. We cheered the great plays and booed the bad ones. It was the first sporting event we’ve ever attended where no sport was played. We can officially cross the NFL draft off our bucket list.