Sentences with phrase «high draft choice»

His original plan was to play three years of college ball and then accept a hefty contract befitting a high draft choice.

It isn't just athletes who fail to live up to their early potential — if you are a «high draft choice» in life, you have a responsibility to focus your gifts.

Not exact matches

Jan 04,2016... Pittsburgh, often a contender but never a champion, puts no great store in high - priced draft choices...

Maybe not as much power as you'd like in a high draft pick, but with everything else he seems to offer for tools (and he does have some pop in that bat), he's probably my 3rd favorite choice in that spot.

As a youth growing up in Canoga Park, Calif., the son of an Italian - American father and an Irish - French mother, Tim Foli was such a talented athlete that by the time he graduated from high school he was offered both football and baseball scholarships to the University of Southern California and Notre Dame and a $ 75,000 baseball bonus by the Mets, who had made him their first choice in the 1968 free - agent draft.

The Nuggets put him with one of their first - round 1991 draft choices in a package and traded him back to the Bullets for Washington's higher first - round draft choice last June.

The lowly Rangers made Clyde their first draft choice, gave him a $ 125,000 bonus, and then, amid much fanfare, announced that he would start his first major league game only 19 days after he graduated from high school.

The center fielder was selected in the first round (23rd overall) by the Detroit Tigers to become the highest local draft choice since 1998.

Among the possible draft choices, Baker Mayfield led the way, with a 75 % chance of becoming a better player than Keenum, (he put up similar stats to Keenum in college, but played against higher level competition).

It went something like this: hotel check - in, locate room, locate wifi service, attempt connection to wifi, wonder why the connection is taking so long, try again, locate phone, call front desk, get told «the internet is broken for a while», decide to hot - spot the mobile phone because some emails really needed to be sent, go «la la la» about the roaming costs, locate iron, wonder why iron temperature dial just spins around and around, swear as iron spews water instead of steam, find reading glasses, curse middle - aged need for reading glasses, realise iron temperature dial is indecipherably in Chinese, decide ironing front of shirt is good enough when wearing jacket, order room service lunch, start shower, realise can't read impossible small toiletry bottle labels, damply retrieve glasses from near iron and successfully avoid shampooing hair with body lotion, change (into slightly damp shirt), retrieve glasses from shower, start teleconference, eat lunch, remember to mute phone, meet colleague in lobby at 1 pm, continue teleconference, get in taxi, endure 75 stop - start minutes to a inconveniently located client, watch unread emails climb over 150, continue to ignore roaming costs, regret tuna panini lunch choice as taxi warmth, stop - start juddering, jet - lag, guilt about unread emails and traffic fumes combine in a very unpleasant way, stumble out of over-warm taxi and almost catch hypothermia while trying to locate a very small client office in a very large anonymous business park, almost hug client with relief when they appear to escort us the last 50 metres, surprisingly have very positive client meeting (i.e. didn't throw up in the meeting), almost catch hypothermia again waiting for taxi which despite having two functioning GPS devices can't locate us on a main road, understand why as within 30 seconds we are almost rendered unconscious by the in - car exhaust fumes, discover that the taxi ride back to the CBD is even slower and more juddering at peak hour (and no, that was not a carbon monoxide induced hallucination), rescheduled the second client from 5 pm to 5.30, to 6 pm and finally 6.30 pm, killed time by drafting this guest blog (possibly carbon monoxide induced), watch unread emails climb higher, exit taxi and inhale relatively fresher air from kamikaze motor scooters, enter office and grumpily work with client until 9 pm, decline client's gracious offer of expensive dinner, noting it is already midnight my time, observe client fail to correctly set office alarm and endure high decibel «warning, warning» sounds that are clearly designed to send security rushing... soon... any second now... develop new form of nausea and headache from piercing, screeching, sounds - like - a-wailing-baby-please-please-make-it-stop-alarm, note the client is relishing the extra (free) time with us and is still talking about work, admire the client's ability to focus under extreme aural pressure, decide the client may be a little too work focussed, realise that I probably am too given I have just finished work at 9 pm... but then remember the 200 unread emails in my inbox and decide I can resolve that incongruency later (in a quieter space), become sure that there are only two possibilities — there are no security staff or they are deaf — while my colleague frantically tries to call someone who knows what to do, conclude after three calls that no - one does, and then finally someone finally does and... it stops.