Combine Test (3)

(Chris Rose) — NFL Network Host

"I have never seen anything like this in my life."

The NFL Network host said it because of the stands — packed absolutely wall to wall.

League officials had briefly amended the rule that normally allowed up to five minors free entry, cutting it down to two per adult, and even then the seats the front office opened up were filled with barely room to breathe.

What was even more astonishing was that the number of fans ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who had been turned away at the gates easily surpassed those who made it inside by several times over.

The moment Dwayne Moi Stone's athletic testing began, the area around Lucas Oil Stadium had been flooded with fans desperate to get in.

3:30 in the afternoon, spent alongside the luckiest man in football.

The On Field Test was about to begin.

(Chris Rose)

"Just listen to this crowd. We're in Indianapolis, but you can see quite a few fans here wearing Georgia Bulldogs jerseys. All of it because of this young man, I'd wager."

(David Carr) — NFL Network Analyst

"I couldn't be more excited myself. Even more so after seeing his athletic testing results. Did you know Buck canceled his plans and stayed at the stadium?"

(Chris Rose)

"Really? That is so not like him."

(David Carr)

"My point exactly! He's probably up in one of those VIP lounges right now, watching on TV with some folks from his club. He's hearing this crowd too — honestly, I just want to tell him to get down here."

(Chris Rose)

"Hahaha. As I mentioned earlier, from the On Field Test onward, I'm joined by David Carr and Manti Te'o."

The first stage of the quarterback's On Field Test was a measurement of passing velocity.

After receiving the snap, each quarterback threw three passes to the left and three to the right, with the highest recorded speed among them standing as the official Combine record.

Quarterbacks could also notify the league office in advance and skip this test entirely.

The benchmark NFL teams generally looked for was 55 mph, with anything within ±2 mph considered average.

Since the test was first introduced in 2008, the record stood at 62 mph — set in 2018 by Josh Allen.

After Louisville's Malik Cunningham, Kentucky's Will Levis, and Stanford's Tanner McKee, Dwayne Moi Stone walked to the testing mark to measure his own passing velocity.

In an instant, the stands caught fire.

"Are you ready?"

"Yup."

"Alright. Let's start right in."

"…."

Dwayne Moi Stone took the football, gave it a light tap with his left hand, and fired a pass at the left-side target.

61 mph.

The moment the number clocked by the radar gun flashed across the scoreboard, a gasp rippled through the crowd.

But as if to say this was no time to celebrate, Dwayne Moi Stone took the next ball in quick succession and threw again — and the numbers on the board kept climbing.

63 mph.

64 mph.

The velocity spiked sharply from the second throw onward, and on his third and final pass to the left, the gun read 66 mph.

The stunned stands kept erupting in cheers, and the reaction in the NFL Network broadcast booth carrying the Combine live wasn't much different.

"THE LAST ONE!"

Shouting it himself as he took the final ball, Dwayne Moi Stone pointed at the right-side target with his left index finger — then whipped his right arm through.

66 mph again.

With a small nod, he brushed off his right shoulder with his left hand as if it were nothing — then turned straight to the camera and flexed his bicep.

The Combine-issued uniform was sleeveless, and those thick arms and densely carved muscle were laid bare for the entire broadcast to see.

(Chris Rose)

"THIS SHOW GOES ON!! I've been marveling all day long and I honestly don't know how to express it anymore. You two weren't here earlier, so I'll hand it over. How do you even explain this?"

(David Carr)

"I was in the building when Josh Allen threw 62 at the Combine. I was amazed then, too. You'll see 60 to 61 a few times over the course of a season, but 62 is genuinely rare. But 66… I have to wonder if it's even physically possible. As you know, the football is shaped so uniquely that simply throwing it hard is a challenge in itself. Even major league pitchers who sling triple-digit fastballs only manage 50 to 55 mph with a football. Granted, that's unfamiliarity — but 66? Even with practice, I don't think it's reachable. This Combine is endlessly fascinating."

(Chris Rose)

"Manti?"

(Manti Te'o) — NFL Network Analyst

"First, speaking on behalf of the Hawaii community — I couldn't be prouder. Passing velocity isn't everything, but when you put this record together with everything this young man has been doing since high school, it carries real weight. There's more testing to come, and I honestly can't wait to see it."

A fast arm guaranteed nothing as a quarterback.

Lamar Jackson, for one, clocked just 49 mph at his Combine, and in 2014 Logan Thomas became the first quarterback ever to break 60 — then converted to tight end in the pros.

Still, players who threw above 55 did tend to succeed at higher rates, which was exactly why NFL teams watched the number so closely.

After the athletic testing, Dwayne Moi Stone looked determined to keep proving he was still the main event — and the other quarterbacks began to feel the sting of it.

The stands and the broadcast booth never noticed, but the players, the staff assisting them, and the broadcast personnel on the field all sensed the atmosphere had shifted.

Of course, that applied only to the quarterbacks.

The wide receivers were rather more relaxed.

"Wonder how the order's gonna shake out?"

"Right there with you. I want a crack at catching that kid's passes."

"66 mph? Good grief, the man's got horseshoes for a liver."

"My palms would split open."

The quarterback's On Field Test was a crucial day for the wide receivers too.

With no way to demonstrate positional skill that didn't depend at least half on a quarterback's passes, a receiver needed a good test partner to show everything he had.

If the passes were poor, a receiver could end up looking like his hands were the problem.

Soon the quarterbacks' velocity testing wrapped up entirely, and the order that could be called today's biggest highlight arrived.

From here, the wide receivers would run the routes they'd been briefed on beforehand — slants, outs — and haul in the quarterback's passes.

Dozens of NFL team officials came down to the field, and the broadcast cameras settled into their positions.

Now it mattered.

The order in which quarterbacks took the field was strictly random, decided at the league office's discretion.

The first out was Jake Haener of Fresno State, followed in turn by Aidan O'Connell, Jaren Hall, Anthony Richardson, C.J. Stroud, and Bryce Young.

Next up: Max Duggan of TCU.

And after him — Moi.

'Niiiice.'

Tank Dell poked his head sideways just enough to check the number of the player ahead of him and let out a silent cheer.

Counting the two men in front of him, exactly as far as himself — those were the wide receivers who'd be paired with Dwayne Moi Stone.

And the same held true for Puka Nacua of BYU and Jaxon Smith-Njigba of Ohio State.

Smith-Njigba especially had been dreaming of catching passes from a quarterback like that ever since facing Moi's Georgia in last season's playoffs.

When Max Duggan's turn ended and Dwayne Moi Stone strode out, the stands roared all over again.

"Whiii—!!"

(David Carr)

"He's Comming—"

(Chris Rose)

"Take a look at these numbers. 8,102 yards. And the key point is, that's not his career total — that's the 2022/23 season alone. Touchdown passes: a staggering 82…"

(David Carr)

"He's Crazy. HE IS. ABSOLUTELY. CRAZY."

(Chris Rose)

"His career collegiate numbers are coming up as well — that was a huge talking point in its own right, so I'll spare you the recap. Here we go. Dwayne Moi Stone."

What the NFL teams were scrutinizing in this test was, yes, accuracy — but more than that, whether the quarterback put the ball where the receiver could carry his momentum straight through the catch.

With the slant, the route itself was naturally built for continuity, so the evaluators dug into even finer details.

Whether the quarterback instinctively picked up a first-time partner's stride length and speed, and so on.

If a receiver's stride broke or his speed dropped after the quarterback released the ball, the NFL teams judged that pass as a bad one.

A ball thrown off target went without saying.

At the Combine, accuracy was non-negotiable.

There was no defensive pressure whatsoever, so any quarterback who'd played the game for years should, as a matter of course, be delivering the ball to the spot easiest for the receiver to catch.

Though that was a conversation limited to the slant route.

Puka Nacua stood on the ready line.

His expression was grim with resolve.

"…."

After mediocre results in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠measurements and athletic drills, BYU's Puka Nacua needed to prove himself somehow in a test like today's On Field Test.

An unremarkable height (187 cm) and a disappointing 40-yard dash (4.57 seconds). He'd languished in the bottom tier of his position group in the 20-yard shuttle (4.36 seconds) and the 3-cone drill (7.32 seconds) as well.

With the very concerns NFL scouts had voiced about him in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠college now magnified tenfold, Puka Nacua could feel the walls closing in.

"Go Ready-! HUT!!"

The ball arrived on Dwayne Moi Stone's cadence, and in the same instant Puka Nacua exploded off the line.

What he did best.

That was YAC.

Yards After Catch.

He wasn't long-limbed like other receivers, nor especially quick or fast — but Puka Nacua's edge lay in change of direction and balance, and he excelled at driving forward after the catch.

There was no way to showcase that without a defense on the field, but still — he had to give it everything, no excuses.

Pop!

"Oh, that's good."

"Niiice."

Snatching the pass that arrived in perfect position right in front of his facemask and taking off downfield, Puka Nacua caught the voices of the officials.

He knew they weren't about him — but every NFL team would rewatch today's On Field Test dozens upon dozens of times, and the real evaluations would come then.

Even a spectacular catch would be greeted first with "well, the quarterback didn't throw it well" on a day like this — getting greedy would only tangle things further.

Next came Jaxon Smith-Njigba and Tank Dell hauling in Moi's passes, and when they cycled back to the rear, they traded notes.

"Something about that felt easy, didn't it?"

"Did it? …Yeah, maybe it did."

"Exactly. My instincts don't lie. Look at the team people — everyone's too busy muttering to each other. You can't see it properly without the film. Right now it's all just surface. Something about it came out pretty. You know what I mean? That's roughly it."

"Man, you're acting like you know something."

"Get outta here—!"

"Kukukuk."

Listening to Tank Dell and Smith-Njigba from the side, Puka Nacua found himself wanting to catch Moi's pass one more time.

The next route was the out — a throw where a bad pass meant no run after the catch at all, and for a man whose bread and butter was YAC, he had zero desire to catch anything from Max Duggan or Stetson Bennett.

Time passed, the slant route portion ended, and the out route began. As Puka Nacua counted through the order, he realized — Moi's passes ended exactly one receiver before his turn.

Delighted, he secretly clenched his fist.

The two receivers ahead of him wore expectant looks too.

(Chris Rose)

"8,102 passing yards, 82 touchdowns, an 85.3 completion rate. And zero interceptions. Last season alone, Dwayne Moi Stone put up numbers far better than other quarterbacks' entire collegiate careers."

(David Carr)

"Truly. I threw for about 6,900 yards and a little over 60 touchdowns in four years at Fresno. Granted, college football back then isn't what it is now — but even stacked against this year's Combine quarterbacks, I'd wager it holds."

(Chris Rose)

"Dead on. C.J. Stroud put up 8,123 passing yards and 85 touchdown passes over the last two years. Bryce Young threw for 8,356 yards and 80 touchdowns across three. Dwayne Moi Stone's single-season mark matches — or outright beats — the other participants' career totals. That's why they call him the greatest college quarterback of all time."

"Go Ready-! HUT!!"

The instant his foot planted and broke outward, Puka Nacua knew he'd made a mistake.

He'd cut the angle far too sharp.

For YAC, he needed to round it off just a touch — at this rate, even a perfect throw would make it look like he couldn't run after the catch.

And then.

"…."

Pop.

Resolving to at least make the catch cleanly, Puka Nacua launched himself at the ball — and after landing, realized he was still in bounds and still perfectly balanced.

Strange. But for now, he ran.

"That kid's got something too."

"Recovered the mistake well."

Hearing the scouts' voices from beyond the left sideline, Puka Nacua found himself asking whether he'd actually done well.

The answer came easily.

'No. I didn't do anything.'

Had he attacked the rep with any real intent to gain ground, he could have accepted that praise at face value.

But right now, that wasn't the truth of it.

All he'd thought was: don't screw up.

It might have been luck. But it certainly looked like Dwayne Moi Stone's pass had handed him the chance to run at all.

Which meant that in a real game, that throw would have bought extra yards — and what Georgia's quarterback had accomplished in the NCAA convinced Puka Nacua that this was absolutely no accident.

And the moment that conclusion settled, a chill ran down his spine as a memory surfaced — a video he'd watched long ago.

Jerry Rice, his idol and role model, appearing on a broadcast and saying this:

Until moments ago, Puka Nacua had taken it as the modesty of a great man. But having lived it firsthand, he now thought the man's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words might have been simple fact.

He regretted being so locked into his own rep that he hadn't watched how the receivers ahead of him ran.

'Whoa… wow.'

Puka Nacua — a receiver who overcame his physical shortcomings with his head, just like his idol — caught a brief glimpse of a new world of football today.

Truly.

Just for a moment.

Tailoring every throw to a different receiver across every type of route situation — it was a remarkably special experience. A fun one, too.

Watching every single rep of the other quarterbacks from the very start paid off from the second rotation on — not that I needed it, since from the beginning I'd only had eyes for the receivers.

What were their strides like?

Any habits?

When their feet moved like slow motion, I had their stride lengths calculated; the tiny flinch after a catch translated effortlessly into discomfort.

The final stage of the On Field Test.

The deep ball.

Only at the last order did I run into that loathsome, welcome face, and I grinned, pointed a finger at Jordan, and hollered that I'd kill him if he dropped it.

Not that I don't trust the guy.

"Go Ready-! HUT!!"

The deep ball test began with the ball already in your hands, the play call serving to sync the receivers' timing.

At the same time, it doubled as a Voice Test — tomorrow, we'd be examined on play execution and play calling in front of the head coaches and OCs of all 32 NFL teams.

Anyway.

Backing up, I counted the timing.

The method: tapping the ball.

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Normally, a quarterback would have thrown right here, and the football launched from a spot ten yards shy of the end zone would have come down somewhere around the opposite 40.

In other words — a distance of roughly fifty yards.

But I tapped the ball one more time.

Pop.

Three Mississippi.

Jordan could cover another ten to fifteen yards in the time of one extra tap, and I calculated the pass landing around the opposite 20-yard line as I swung my right arm through.

The pass rose — not especially high — and flew in a flat arc, sailing and sailing before settling into Jordan's arms.

The stands had been roiling since the moment the ball refused to come down, and now they erupted as if a touchdown had just been scored.

Jordan crossed into the end zone and threw both hands up high.

The punk pointed the ball straight at me.

Here You Go!!

Damn right you do!

(Chris Rose)

"OH MY GOODNESS! He threw from the nine-yard line and put the pass down at the 18, 19 on the far side. What is that — 80 yards? No, no. Closer to 70."

(David Carr)

"And it wasn't even thrown high."

(Chris Rose)

"HE IS A PERFECT QUARTERBACK SO FAR— at least, that's exactly how it looks."